Date: Sat, 11 Apr 2015 10:49:20 -0400
From: Paul Knoke <paulkdoctor@gmail.com>
Subject: INSTALLMENT TWENTY-ONE of "THE FATHER CONTRACT"

INSTALLMENT TWENTY-ONE
from

THE FATHER CONTRACT
by

Arthur J. Arrington

Edited Paul K. Scott

Please consider making a donation to Nifty to keep our PJ's hopes alive and
well!  Remember, he needs all the help he can get to make his wish for a
father come true!

Chapter Forty-One: The Invisible Boy

Once James had trotted off to join his friends, PJ took a step and felt so
dizzy, so sick that he had to grasp onto a part of the bleachers to keep
from falling. He leaned against the cold metal brace and struggled to
remain upright, terrified he was going to start bawling right there in
public. Stop it, he commanded himself, fighting the tears welling up. Stop
it! Stop being such a baby!

Gradually he got control of himself. "Travis," he muttered. "Find
Travis. Gotta cheer for him."

As he let go of the bleachers to move slowly across the grass, toward the
road, the edges of things took on a slight rainbow shimmer. He could hear a
low humming in his ears. "Oh no," he whispered. Thoughts he didn't want
circled like dark-finned shapes in his mind.

"Go away, weirds!" he commanded.

He tried focusing on nice things. Jack had seen his last catch. Jack had
said how proud he was of him! It was bad luck he hadn't seen the other
things, but it didn't really matter.

But it did matter. He knew it did. It mattered so much.

Bill isn't missing anything Erik's doing. Erik is Bill's son.

Jack wouldn't have missed anything either if he'd known I was playing!, PJ
tried to insist.

But it was no good. Jack doesn't care. He's just being nice.

I'm Jack's son! PJ screamed in his mind.

No! Jack's son is dead!

"Dead," PJ muttered. Stepping blindly into the street without looking, he
was nearly hit by an oncoming car that jammed on its brakes, swerving to
avoid him. A horn blared, which PJ ignored, and he never even saw another
car which nearly ran him over. Crossing to the opposite side, he made his
way onto a field where a crowd of people stood watching . . . watching
. . .

PJ couldn't remember what he was doing. He was looking for
someone. . . . Jack? He'd said he was coming to the game. And he had,
hadn't he? Or at least . . . but it'd been too late. So who else was he
looking for? PJ felt a twinge of panic. The buzzing in his ears was
worse. He pushed past people, searching . . .

"PJ! PJ! Over here!"

Travis. It was Travis was calling him. PJ turned, and there was his friend
waving. The first thing Travis said as he came over was, "PJ, I saw your
catch!" Then the older boy frowned in concern. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Fine!" I'm fine." PJ forced a grin. "A little tired is all. How's the meet
going?"

"Oh man, everything's goin' great!" Travis seemed happy and excited. "I did
my best time in the hurdles. I got second. An' I won the high jump! My best
jump ever! Erik and Billy were really yelling for me! You should'a seen
it. Geez, PJ. . . ." He smiled at his little brother and shook his head in
obvious delight. "It means a lot to me to have you and Erik and Billy and
everyone here to cheer for me. Sometimes it gets pretty lonely when I don't
have anyone to watch me. With you guys here it's just the greatest. And
Jack's so nice. It really helps. And I like to watch you guys play, too. I
was really happy about your catch, PJ. You should'a seen how proud Jack
was!"

"Yeah," PJ said. "He told me." His tone of voice was almost solemn.

"Hi, PJ!" Coach Drew appeared, holding out a hand. "Travis, they're calling
for the relay."

"Guess I got here just in time." PJ said, shaking hands with the
coach. "Good luck, Big Brother. You'll hear me cheering for you!" Inside,
though, he was thinking of Jack, not Travis. Keep smiling. Look happy!
Everything's fine. Don't let them know. Don't let anyone know!

"Thanks Little Bro." Travis was smiling at him. "I'm goin' for another best
on my split." Again he repeated, "Man, it's great havin' you here. I really
feel psyched!" He went off with a confident stride.

"How was your game, PJ?" Coach Drew gave him a playful nudge in the
shoulder. "I saw you make a great catch!"

"Okay." PJ blinked to clear his eyes, wishing his head would stop buzzing
so. "I made a few good plays." Then he added with forced enthusiasm,
"Sometimes I can play baseball as good as I can swim. I really like it."

The young coach nodded, but after looking at him closely, asked, "Are you
all right?"

PJ smiled back. "Sure. Just a little tired, I guess." He turned away,
pointing. "Hey, there's Travis' relay. Come on, Trav!"

With a puzzled expression, Coach Drew watched PJ a moment longer before
turning his attention to the relay teams gathering on the track. The first
runners were lined up. "Travis will be going third, PJ," he said. Then the
starter's gun sounded. The first boys took off, sprinted once around the
quarter mile oval, and passed a baton to the next runner on their
team. Gordonsville had a slight lead.

"Each guy does just one lap?" PJ asked.

"Right," said Coach Drew. "It's basically an all-out sprint."

As Travis pulled off his sweat suit, getting ready, PJ compared his
friend's wiry body and slim legs to the heavier boy going third for
Gordonsville.  "Travis is gonna catch up."

"I hope so," Coach Drew replied.

"He's going to," PJ declared positively. "Come on, Travis! Go get 'em!"

The Gordonsville runners passed their baton without a slip. Travis got his
a few seconds behind them. He took off after the other boy, slender legs a
blur of speed.

"Come on, Trav!  Pour it on!" PJ yelled. "Go! Go!" It never even occurred
to him that he was rooting against his own schoolmates!

Bit by bit, the distance between Travis and the Gordonsville boy in front
of him shortened. Arms pumping, legs pounding, he leaned into the curve of
the oval track. "Go, Trav! Go, Trav! Go! Go!" PJ screamed, jumping up and
down with excitement. "I told you, I told you!"He grabbed Coach Drew's
arm. "He's gonna catch him!"

Travis was on the straight part of the track now, running his opponent
down. For a moment they were even . . . then he was past, entering the last
turn.

"Kick it, Trav! Kick it!" PJ yelled. With a final burst of even more speed,
Travis raced for the handoff area, his face straining with effort, pulling
farther ahead with every stride. Extending his arm with the baton, he
passed it off to the last Franklyn Prep runner.

Coach Drew clicked his stopwatch. "Oh yeah!" he shouted, holding it
up. "His best split ever!"

"Yee-eoo-oww-ww!" PJ yelled. He went running over to where his friend was
standing bent over, hands on his knees, trying to get his breath. "Your
best split, Trav! Your best ever! And you caught up! You gave your team a
lead!" Still gasping, Travis straightened up and the two boys hugged each
other, PJ pounding his older friend on the back. Then together, they
watched Travis' teammate hold onto his lead and cross the finish line ahead
of the Gordonsville runner. "Yeah!" Travis and PJ yelled, high-fiving in
celebration.

He'd forgotten, temporarily, all about Jack Canon.

The members of the Gordonsville relay looked over, puzzled at the sight of
PJ in his blue-and-red baseball uniform standing with a member of the
opposing team. "What's all that about, PJ?" one of them growled when they
came over to shake hands.

"Travis is one of my best friends," PJ explained. "I always cheer for him."

"And I always cheer for PJ," Travis said, shaking hands. "I always do good
when PJ cheers for me."

"Trav just did his best split ever," PJ told the boys proudly.

"Geez, PJ," said the track team captain coming up to shake Travis'
hand. "Give us a break and cheer for us next time. I could use a best time
myself!"

How 'bout I cheer for you both," answered PJ, and all the boys laughed.

"Come on, Trav," PJ said after the Gordonsville boys left. "Let's go watch
Erik."

"Right!" His friend nodded eagerly. "Wait. I'll get my stuff."

While Travis went to put on his sweat suit, PJ stayed with Coach
Drew. "Travis is sure a good runner," he told him.

"Yup," the coach agreed. "He's best at swimming. But this makes kind of a
fun break for him. Kind of the way baseball is for you."

"Yeah. . . . " PJ's head, which had felt better after Travis' race, was
starting to buzz again. He felt the beginning of a headache.

"PJ," the coach asked, "What was all that cheering we heard from your
field?"

"Oh. . . . " PJ shrugged. "There were a few exciting plays in the first
couple of innings. Nothing special."

"We sure heard something over here." Coach Drew was giving him a concerned
look again, so PJ tried changing the subject. "It's really great Travis did
so well today. He seems pretty happy."

The coach smiled. "He's happy because you guys were here to watch. Your
friendship means a lot to him. He talks about you and Erik all the
time. And now, I think, he's going to talk about Billy too. They really hit
it off."

Travis came hurrying over, sweat suit on, carrying his bag. "I'm all
set. Gordonsville won, PJ. But we gave you guys a good meet."

"It's great you did well, Trav. Wish I could have seen your high jump."

"Yeah." Travis grinned and held out a fist for PJ to tap. "That was a good
one. But at least you got to see me run. And I got to see you make that
nice catch! You were under a lotta pressure, too, weren't you? If you'd
missed, a lotta runs would've scored!"

"Maybe," PJ vaguely answered. He couldn't actually remember anymore. "Hey
Trav, you guys go ahead, okay? I gotta make a pit stop in the locker
room. I'll be over there as soon as I can."

"Sure, PJ." Travis slapped his shoulder. "I'll tell everyone you're
coming."

Trotting quickly away toward the athletic building, PJ tried to focus
through an increasing blurring of vision. His head was really starting to
feel strange and he was desperate to get away before he did something weird
right in front of everybody. Brain buzzing, stomach churning, he made it to
his locker room and practically ran into one of the bathroom toilet
stalls. Locking himself within the privacy of that smelly, close space, he
sat down on the john with his pants up, his aching head down on his arms,
and finally gave way to feelings that were overwhelming him. Slender body
shaking, he sobbed uncontrollably, stifling the sounds of his crying
against his arms and legs so that no one would hear. Over and over, he made
soft little muffled cries--cries anyone hearing would have thought came
from a very young child.

"Jack, Jack . . . Daddy . . . I want my Daddy . . . Please, please come
find me."

Only the thoughts in his own mind answered. You're Daddy's dead. But which
one?

Eventually he stopped. Keeping his head down a little longer, he hiccupped
a few times, blew his nose, opened the stall door cautiously, and peered
out. No one was there. He washed his face at the sink before going back
outside. This time, on his way to the ballfield, he looked carefully both
ways before crossing the street. A smell of frying burgers was coming from
the back of a vendor's truck parked by the curb. PJ's stomach rebelled
against the odor and he hurried past, searching for his friends. They were
not in the bleachers around home plate, but he soon located them standing
behind the fence on the other side of the Gordonsville dugout up the
third-base line.

"PJ!" Billy called, catching sight of him. "Erik's playing great!" Bill
moved over so that there'd be room for PJ to stand next to him and said,
"Hey, this is some game! Erik got a single and two RBIs in the fifth. Then
he scored by stealing home! He has two stolen bases!"

"Hi Tiger?" Jack put an arm around PJ's shoulders. After a moment's
hesitation, PJ put his loosely around Jack's waist. "The score's tied
8-8. You guys are still in it. I hear Travis did well."

"He did his best split," PJ answered. "He caught up to the man in front of
him and gave his team a lead."

"That's great. Did you cheer for him?"

"Uh-huh. Pretty loud. I'm surprised you didn't hear me over here."

This got a chuckle from Jack. He gave PJ's shoulders a squeeze. "Travis is
a nice kid. He's a good friend for you PJ. And you and Erik are good for
him."

"Yeah."

Jack looked down at him. "You feelin' okay, Tiger?"

"Sure." PJ was trying hard to make himself sound normal. He forced a smile,
and Jack hugged his shoulders again.

"Erik's doin' real well," Jack continued. "He drove in or scored all your
runs in the fifth. And on defense he made a real nice play on a chop
grounder to save the inning. He's been the difference out there. And he's
the youngest on the team!"

Actually, PJ was the youngest. But he didn't try to correct Jack. "How did
the other team catch up?" he asked.

"They got four runs right after you left. But Erik got you guys tied back
up in the fifth."

"Nothing in our sixth?"

"Nah. They made a nice 4-6-3 double play on you."

The faint buzzing was back in PJ's head again. He bit his lower lip hard
and as a distraction, tried to concentrate on the action on the
field. Franklyn Prep had two outs, but they had runners on first and
second, so there was still a scoring threat. As he watched, the
Gordonsville pitcher gave up a walk to load the bases.

"Uh-oh," said Jack. "They may get something here."

The next batter hit a slow roller to Gordonsville's shortstop, who charged
it perfectly but in his excitement bobbled the pickup. By the time he had
control of the ball, a run had scored, everyone was safe, and the bases
were still loaded. Jack shook his head. "Tough break. That was a difficult
play. Those slow rollers can eat your lunch." Over on the left side of the
field, lights on the scoreboard changed: Franklyn 9, Gordonsville 8.

Erik, from his position at second base, was calling encouragement to his
pitcher. The thought occurred to PJ that perhaps he, too, should cheer, but
his head hurt and the impulse died. Instead he stared out at the field,
pretending interest in the game, but actually feeling strangely detached
from everything.

The next batter was a left-hander. PJ remembered him. He'd hit the long fly
that PJ had chased to the fence. It all seemed a lifetime ago. The
Gordonsville pitcher worked him inside with a few deliveries, then threw a
fastball that drifted into the middle of the plate. The batter turned on it
and socked a blistering grounder into the right side of the diamond. But
Erik was there. Reacting immediately, he dove to his left, extending his
glove. For one heart-stopping instant, his body flew parallel to the
ground. Then the ball smacked into his glove, and he skidded through the
dirt on the base path. Straightening up on his knees, he fired the ball to
first base, got the batter by a full stride, and ended the inning.

"Oh yeah!" Jack roared. "Way to go, Erik!" He clapped PJ on the back,
exclaiming delightedly, "That was Major League! That kid can play ball!"

Next to PJ, Bill was yelling like a wild Indian. Further along the fence,
Billy and Travis were cheering too, and Travis had Billy up on his back so
the younger boy could see better. The spectators in the bleachers were on
their feet applauding and gave Erik a big hand as he trotted in toward the
dugout. The grinning boy tipped his cap.

"I'm going to sit with Erik," PJ abruptly told Jack.

"Right, PJ." Jack patted his shoulder. "I think you should. It's better if
you stay with your team."

Entering the dugout, PJ was about to go to his roommate when he was
startled by Coach Lewis grabbing him by the arm and demanding, "Where have
you been?"

"I . . . I was at the track meet, cheering for my friend," PJ
stammered. "Then I went to see Jack."

The coach eyed him sternly. "You need to stay right in here from now on so
I know where you are! I've been looking all over for you. Park your butt on
that bench and keep it there!"

"Yes, Coach," PJ answered in shocked confusion, adding meekly, "I'm sorry."
But Coach Lewis had already joined the rest of the team crowding around
Erik, congratulating him. "Nice play, Ace!" he said, giving Erik a pat on
his butt. "Way to get that uniform dirty out there!"

Erik grinned again. Then, spotting PJ, he hurried over to sit next to
him. "Why'd Coach get so pissed at you?," he whispered. "We told him what
we were going to do."

"I don't know." PJ was trembling a little in reaction to being yelled
at. "I guess he just forgot." Trying to cover up the hurt he felt with a
nice comeback, he hurriedly went on, "I got a chance to cheer for Travis
an' he did his best split on the relay today."

"Hey that's good!" Erik grinned and pumped his fist. "He's having a great
day." Then his grin got even wider. "PJ, check this out! I got two RBIs and
I scored a run!"

"That's good, Erik."

His friend gave him a sharp glance. "PJ, are you okay?"

"Sure. I'm okay. Just a little tired is all. That was a beautiful play you
made on that grounder."

"Yeah." Erik smiled happily. "You know, I just knew he was gonna hit it
there. You ever have one of those feelings? As soon as I saw him swing, I
was moving. Somehow I just knew."

"Jack said it was a Major League play."

"Did he?" Erik was beaming. "That's neat! Hey, I'm up this inning. We gotta
get that run back or we're history!"

"You'll get it," PJ declared, faking enthusiasm, thinking, Erik's my best
friend. I won't let him down.

"Okay guys!" Coach Bates was at the side of the dugout, clapping his
hands. "Last inning. We need a run. Let's hear some noise!"

To PJ, the words meant nothing, but he derived comfort sitting on the bench
next to his roommate. The two of them watched as the first Gordonsville
batter drew a walk. "Yeah!" Erik yelled, encouraging the rest of his
teammates to cheer. "Walk's as good as a hit! Let's bring him around now!"
Grabbing a helmet and bat, he went to the on-deck circle.

The boy hitting in front of Erik fouled off a pitch, and then lined into
deep right, which brought the bleacher crowd to its feet. The Franklyn
outfielder made a good play and got the ball in quickly enough to hold the
batter to a single, but Erik came striding to the plate with runners on
first and third, and no outs.

"Give it a ride, Erik! You're the one!" PJ yelled as some of the darkness
in his mind receded. Do it, Erik, he thought, show them how good you are!
For a few moments, at least, he felt that his battery had been
recharged. He'd forgotten about Jack all over again!

Erik stood cool and relaxed at the plate. Even though he appeared smaller
than the other players, Franklyn had learned to be wary of him, just as
they had with PJ. Erik watched Coach Bates at third for a sign, then
stepped in. There's some kind of play on, PJ thought.

The pitcher fired and the ball came in high, but Erik swung anyway, missing
it as the runner on first broke for second. The catcher took a step as if
to make a throw. Then, mindful of the runner on third, he wisely held the
ball. PJ grinned. The double steal! It had almost worked.

Erik got another sign and stood back in. He'll swing away now, thought
PJ. And they won't walk him. They'll try to get him out. He was right both
ways. Erik laid off the next pitch for a ball, but on the one after that,
he belted a line drive into the left-centerfield gap. The ball rolled to
the wall, and Erik got a standup double along with two more RBIs as the
runners on second and third both scored. The Gordonsville dugout erupted in
cheers, boys stamping their feet and chanting, "Er-ik, Er-ik, Er-ik. . . ."
As Erik put his fist up in a victory salute, PJ could hear Jack, Bill, and
Mr. Thatcher's deep voices cheering from the fence by the dugout, along
with Travis' and Billy's higher-pitched yells.

The number eight better came up for Gordonsville. The eighth spot in the
order hadn't produced all day except for a sacrifice fly in the second
inning, but the batter this time was a sub who was inspired by Erik's
hit. He hung in at the plate, finally knocking a 2-2 pitch on the ground
through the hole between first and second. The ball skittered into the
outfield, there was general confusion as four players went for it, and Erik
raced from second to third, rounding the corner for home. With pitcher and
catcher both screaming for the ball, the centerfielder finally picked it up
and threw a line drive to the catcher at the plate. The play was close!
Amid a cloud of dust, Erik made a perfect slide under the tag. The umpire
threw his hands out wide and shouted, "Safe!" The stands erupted in a
tremendous racket.

Chanting, "Er-ik, Er-ik, Er-ik, Er-ik," the Gordonsville team, PJ included,
spilled out of the dugout to escort Erik back in triumph. With a grin, PJ
high-fived his friend. "Way to go!  I knew you'd get those runs back!
You're the best!"

Erik was grinning too. He punched PJ on the shoulder and told him, "I hear
you did pretty good yourself today. I've been hearing some things. I'm just
trying to keep up with you!"

"Together! "PJ said, leaning close.

"Together!" They high-fived again, and Erik yelled to the rest of the team,
"All right, let's get some more!"

"Everybody hits!" PJ echoed.

They tried. The batters made contact with the ball, and nobody struck out,
but the breaks went to the other team. The number-nine Gordonsville batter
grounded out to second on a ball hit sharply enough so the runner at second
couldn't advance. Then the Gordonsville leadoff batter was able to bunt for
a base hit and steal second, setting up another second-and-third situation,
but the next batter dribbled a weak little grounder to the pitcher, and the
runner on third was thrown out trying to make it home. The batter after
that flied out to left.

Gordonsville had to go out on defense with Franklyn coming up for their
last at-bat, only down by two, 11-9. Two runs! PJ rubbed his hands
nervously on his thighs in the dugout. Not much of a lead! Let's hope we
can hold it!

Arthur, the lefty Gordonsville pitcher who'd come in as a reliever for
Dustin, seemed as nervous as PJ because he walked the first batter. He
tried throwing more carefully to the next one, but got caught flat-footed
like everyone else when the Franklyn player laid down a bunt towards first
base. Although his left-handed follow-through left him leaning the wrong
way, Arthur still managed to get to the ball, bare-hand it, and fire a
dangerously-rushed throw to the first baseman, who caught it in the tip of
his glove barely in time to get the batter out! It was a nice defensive
play, but the sacrifice moved the first Franklyn runner into scoring
position at second base. Now the tying run came to the plate. Thoroughly
rattled, Arthur began to aim his pitches instead of throwing them with
confidence, and the result was another walk. Runners were on first and
second!

"Better go calm AJ down, Roomie." PJ was thinking, Arthur Jeremiah
Arrington wanted to be called "Art," and the rest of the team went along
with the nickname, but PJ figured that it just gave him "airs," so he
insisted on calling him AJ. Didn't Mr. Bingham always say that "what was
good for the goose was good for the gander"? Erik ran over to the pitcher's
mound, said something to AJ, gave him a pat on the shoulder, and then
trotted back to his position. That's the way, Erik, thought PJ. Settle him
down.

Erik's encouragement apparently worked because AJ relaxed a little. He
threw a strike, got himself set, fired another one . . .  ah, oh! He'd
forgotten the runner on second! Breaking with the pitch, the Franklyn boy
stole third standing up before the catcher could get out of his crouch.

"No harm done, Art! No harm!" PJ heard Erik yell.

In the dugout, PJ pounded a fist on his thigh. Come on guys! Don't let 'em
steal the game from you!

"Gee, I hope we can hold them to only two runs," PJ heard Coach Bates say.

Wrong! PJ thought. That's not the way to think! The idea is to get them
out! Don't let them score any runs at all!

PJ could tell that AJ was mad at himself because he smacked his glove a few
times before toeing the rubber again. He got set, checked his runners, and
fired once more. This time the batter swung. "TINK!" A hard ground ball
shot through the infield grass toward the shortstop. He fielded the ball
cleanly. Erik was already on the bag at second. With a quick flip, the
shortstop shoveled the ball to Erik for the first out. Then, in a beautiful
move, Erik pivoted, just as he and PJ had practiced so often in front of
their wall in the Field House, and later on the grass of their
field. Wheeling, he leaped to avoid the runner sliding in on him, and fired
a bullet to first. The throw smacked into the outstretched first baseman's
glove! It caught the oncoming batter by a step--a perfect 6-4-3 double
play! The inning was over! The game was over! Gordonsville had won!

Dugout and stands again erupted with cheers. Swarming around both shortstop
and Erik, the Gordonsville team escorted them to the side of the field
where PJ hugged his roommate, pummeling his back. "I knew you'd do it,
Erik. I knew it! It's just the way we practiced it!"

Erik was grinning from ear to ear. "What a game, PJ! What a game! Hey! Do
you realize . . . wait a minute!" He looked at PJ closely. "How many RBI's
did you get?"

"Four," PJ answered.

"And how many runs did you score yourself?"

"One."

Erik looked dumbfounded."PJ!" he said in amazement. "Do you realize that
between the two of us . . . I mean, I have four RBIs, too. And I scored
twice. PJ, PJ, we batted in or scored all the runs! Us two!
Yee-e-ooo-oow-ww-wee-eeee!" Erik hugged his roommate, laughing
delightedly. "Oh, man! No one back at school will ever believe this!"

"Together!" PJ told him, hugging back.

"Together! Yee-e000w-wwe-ee-ee!" Erik whooped again. They high-fived.

After lining up with the rest of the team, the two of them went down the
line shaking hands with the Franklyn players, PJ recognizing several boys
from the swim team and Erik greeting some he knew from basketball. After
milling around a bit after the hand-shaking to congratulate AJ, Dustin, and
the other older players, they walked back to the dugout where Coach Lewis
was waiting with a big grin on his face. "You two! I don't know how you did
it, but you did. I'm still not sure I believe it." The young coach held up
his scorebook. "I may have to look at this again tonight to convince
myself." PJ and Erik just smirked at him.

"Clapping the boys on the shoulder, Mr. Lewis added, "PJ, I'm sorry I
yelled at you."

PJ turned red, shuffled his feet, and mumbled, "That's okay, Coach. I
should have reminded you where I was going before I left."

"I still shouldn't have yelled. It's just that I got worried when I
couldn't find you." He put arms around both boys' shoulders. "Take your
time, guys. Relax a little. The bus won't leave without you. You're the
stars today."

Grinning at each other, PJ and Erik touched fists and proceeded to run to
the fence where friends and parents were waiting. Billy scampered over to
greet them. "Erik, you were great! You won the game!"; Travis followed up
with, "Way to go, Erik! That double play was fantastic!"; Bill grabbed Erik
in a huge hug, patted him on the back, and told him, "I'm so proud of you,
Son!"; Mr. Thatcher offered his own congratulations and added, "I don't
think you'll be subbing for long"; and once Bill released him, Jack gave
Erik a high sign with a detailed critique: "Those were two nice plays. That
double play was beautiful. And that diving stop you made the inning
before--Major League! They would've won for sure if you hadn't made
those. That clutch hitting was nice, too. That's the real thing--to hit
when it counts!" It became a round of excited celebrating. Everyone had
something good to say about Erik's play!

Off to one side, PJ watched, trying to ignore the terrible hurt he felt
while the others gathered around Erik, heaping praise on him. It was like
the year before, playing on the House intramural team, the only boy who had
no family, relatives, or friends by his side after the game: the invisible
boy, the boy no one came to see, the boy no one cared about.

Stop it! He commanded himself as a tear welled up. Stop being a baby! It
was just bad luck that his friends hadn't seen him play. Travis, Erik, and
even Billy wanted Jack to be with them too, and besides, Jack had been
there for that last nice catch--a catch done just the way they'd practiced
it together. That was enough. Anyhow, this is Erik's day. He's my best
friend. He's the baseball star, an' I'm happy for him. He deserves the
recognition. He won the game for us! He was there for me at all those swim
meets when I was doin' stuff, an' now I'm here for him.

But somehow, however much PJ tried to bury it, the hurt was still there
despite his attempts to wish it away. Maybe he wasn't as good as Erik, or
lots of other kids, but it hurt even worse because everyone seemed to have
forgotten his own contributions to the victory. An' he'd wanted so much for
Jack to see him play . . . especially in a game that had been so special
for him, a game in which he'd played so well himself. But Jack had never
seen him hit that home run. He was still invisible . . . The Invisible Boy!
. . .

Two strong hands came down on his shoulders. He looked up to see Coach Drew
standing behind him. "All you guys are kinda forgetting about somebody,
aren't you?" Coach Drew pushed PJ forward toward Jack.

"Yeah, Dad," Erik said, looking up at Bill. "What about PJ?"

"Sure," Jack said smiling. "PJ had a good game, too." He put his arm around
the boy's shoulders, hugging him.

"No," Erik protested, looking around at them. "Not just a 'good game'! You
don't understand!  Look. I got six runs, right? Four RBIs, and I scored
two. But the team got eleven runs. Who do you think got the other five?"

Everyone looked from Erik over to PJ, whose face was turning red.

"That's right," Erik told them. "PJ did. He had four RBIs and scored once
himself. Without PJ we wouldn't have won. He and I both scored or batted in
all the runs! We did it together."

Coach Drew said, "PJ. Why don't you tell them what all that cheering was
about." He looked around at the others. "Remember all that cheering we
heard when we were across the street at the track meet?"

PJ stared down at his feet.

"PJ?" Jack turned to him.

"Well . . . um, I kind of hit a home run," PJ said softly. He glanced up at
Jack and very quickly looked back down again.

Jack's arm tightened around PJ's shoulders, and then a wide-eyed Billy
blurted out , "PJ, you hit a home run?"

"You got a homer?" Travis exclaimed. "Awesome, Little Bro! Why didn't you
tell me?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jack was staring down at PJ.

"Well . . . you were kind of in a hurry, and . . . I don't know. . . ."

"That's not all, is it, PJ," Travis' coach said. "Tell him what you did. It
wasn't just an ordinary home run, was it?"

PJ shook his head. He was still looking down, making circles in the grass
with the toe of his baseball shoe.

"PJ, what's the story on this?" Jack demanded.

PJ kept looking down. He shook his head again.

"The kids I talked to say he called his shot," Erik told Jack. "He pointed
his bat at the centerfield fence and jacked the next pitch right over it."

"What?!" Jack's arm tightened so much around PJ's shoulders it was painful.

"That's the story I got, too," Coach Drew said.

"What's 'calling the shot'?" Billy asked.

Travis patted him on the shoulder. "It means PJ did something that hasn't
been done too often," he said. "In fact, I can only think of one other
time."

"Did you do that, PJ?" Jack asked the boy.

Again PJ shook his head. "It was just . . . I was just . . ."

"What?" Jack's voice had sharpened. "What did you do, PJ?"

"Well . . ."--PJ hesitated,--". . . see . . . I thought if I pointed my bat
at the pitcher, he'd sorta get all mad, and try to strike me out instead of
walking me . . ." He looked up at Jack. "An' I knew I could hit him. I just
knew. An' so I did, and it worked." Then he was looking down again, and
tears he couldn't blink back were filling his eyes. "See, I thought you
were watching me, Jack. I wanted to make you proud of me. . . ."

"Proud of you?" Jack told him softly. "Proud of you? PJ . . ."--he knelt
down next to the boy--. . . "PJ, what else did you do in those first
innings that we missed?"

PJ kept looking down. "Well . . . I kinda hit a triple. An' I made some
catches in the outfield."

"What do you mean 'catches'?" Jack took hold of him. "What kind of
catches?"

When PJ was silent, Erik said, "He made a shoestring catch and doubled a
runner off first. And there was another one where he ran down a ball at the
fence with an over-the-shoulder catch. I talked to the kids that saw
it. They said they don't know how he got to it." He made a gesture with his
hands. "He's been practicing, Jack. He's just . . . " Shaking his head,
Erik gestured again. There's no one I'd rather be on a team with!"

As Jack knelt by him, PJ kept staring at the ground. Suddenly the big man
took PJ in his arms and stood up, picking the boy off his feet. PJ wound
his arms around Jack's neck, burying his face in the man's
shoulder. "Look," Jack told the others, "would you excuse us for a few
minutes? I need to talk to PJ." He took the boy into the dugout, now
deserted, and sat down with PJ standing in front of him so their eyes were
level. "PJ, I'm sorry I wasn't there to see you play. Just as sorry as I
can be. I should have been. I know that doesn't help much. You know I
didn't do it on purpose, don't you?"

PJ nodded. "It's okay, Jack." But he didn't smile.

Jack shook his head. "No, it's not okay. I should have been there. That's
why I came today. But I was over watching Travis. I had to sign some
autographs, and . . . well, I lost track of time. But that's still not an
excuse." Jack looked at PJ for a few seconds, and continued, "PJ, I'm not
perfect. I know that maybe you think I am, but I'm not. I make mistakes. A
lot of mistakes. Today was one. I don't know. . . .  Lately it seems I've
been good at finding ways to hurt you. I'm sorry. I'll try to make it up to
you some way. I don't know how, but I'll come up with something. Damn!"
Jack sighed. "You know, I was really glad I came here today. Up until just
a few minutes ago I was having a good time . . . ." He stopped abruptly at
the stricken look on PJ's face. "Hey!" He gave the boy a little grin. "I'm
still having a good time. I like being with you, Tiger. We always seem to
have pretty much fun when we're together, don't we?"

PJ nodded. "Yes, Jack."

The star ballplayer studied PJ's face and then sighed again. "What am I
gonna do with you, Little Champ?" He thought for awhile longer, then
grinned and gave PJ a pat. "You know . . . I'm gonna regret to the day I
die not seeing you point your bat at that pitcher. Boy, I bet you pissed
him off!"

PJ managed a little smile. "Yeah, I think he got kinda mad."

Jack choked. "Geez, PJ. I bet the kid was ready to kill you! Oh man! I
really wish I'd seen that. Well, at least I saw you make that nice
catch. And I saw you in your uniform. God, PJ, I'm so proud of you. I can't
tell you how proud. Hey! You know, I had a heck of a time fixing it so I
could come today. I had to sneak away again."

PJ did manage a smile this time. It was impossible to stay mad at
Jack. "How did you do it?"

"Well, today's a travel day for the team, you know. So I pulled the same
stunt I used to get away during spring training. Told 'em I had to go to
Boston for a checkup on my knee. But I came here instead. Bill met me at
the airport. He's the one I arranged all this with."

"I'm glad you came, Jack," PJ said, looking at him gratefully.

"Yeah, I am, too. Even if I did screw things up. Forgive me?"

PJ nodded.

"That's my Little Champ. Listen. Are you getting my e-mails?"

PJ nodded again.

"Good. And you've been feeling okay?" Jack anxiously scrutinized him. "I
mean, sleeping all right and . . . and everything?"

"I'm okay, Jack."

"You haven't had any more of that . . . that trouble at night?"

PJ shook his head.

"Yeah.  Well, . . . okay." Jack gave the boy a pat on his head. "Look, I
gotta get going. I have to catch up with the team in Texas. We're playing
the Rangers. Wait till I tell Jim and the other guys what you did. They'll
love it!"

"Tell them all I said 'Hi'," PJ said. "And please thank the hitting coach,
Mr. Brock, again. Mostly I think all the time about what you and he told
me."

"I will, PJ." Jack stroked his shoulder affectionately. "God, you're such a
decent kid. What am I gonna do with you?"

Sudden tears filled PJ's eyes. He threw his arms around Jack, hugging
him. "I miss you when you're not with me, Jack," he said miserably.

Jack patted the boy on his back. He didn't say anything.

"I'll keep sending you something every day," PJ promised.

"I know you will," Jack kept patting him. "I'll write, too. Just like I
have been. I'm sorry about today. I'll make it up to you." When PJ clung to
the man even tighter, Jack pried him loose and stood up. "Gotta' go, Little
Champ. Remember, I'm proud of you."

"I will, Jack," the boy replied. "Jack.  Jack, I . . ."

"Come on now, Tiger," Jack led him out of the dugout to where their friends
were all waiting by the fence. "Bill, I guess we better get moving if I'm
gonna catch that flight." He looked at Erik and nudged him on the
shoulder. "Great game, kiddo. You and PJ sure showed 'em today." Erik
grinned happily.

"Travis?" Jack stepped over to the older boy. "You did great today. Now
don't forget to come see me when we play the Phillies."

"I won't, Jack," Travis promised, shaking hands.

After glancing around quickly, Jack stepped over to Billy and picked him
up. "You do good in that coach-pitch league now, Billy. Remember, I'm
counting on you to keep an eye on Erik and PJ for me. Keep 'em in line!"

Billy giggled happily. "I will, Jack."

After shaking hands with Mr. Thatcher and Coach Drew, Jack knelt by PJ
again. "I'll say goodbye here, Champ. I'm very glad I came today. You just
can't guess how proud I am of you. I promise I'll write. Now I want you to
have fun with your baseball. Just enjoy it. And I'll fix something up for
us. I'll be in touch about it. I want you to promise that you'll just
relax, have fun, and be okay, right?"

"I promise, Jack," PJ said.

"You have a lot of wonderful friends. They all care about you. You have
nothing to worry about. Okay?"

PJ nodded.

"Wish me luck, kid." Jack flashed him his big trademark grin. "I'm still
tryin' for that Series. Remember, Anything's Possible!"

"I'll never stop believing that," PJ told him, with a little
smile. "Never."

Jack nodded. He got up, waved to everyone, and he and Bill walked off, Erik
trotting after them. PJ watched them go. When they reached the street, Bill
gave Erik a hug. Then Jack took Erik aside, bending down to talk to him
about something. PJ saw that his roommate was speaking and that Jack kept
nodding his head up and down. Finally they shook hands. As Bill and Jack
went off down the street toward Bill's car, Erik came running back.

"Guess we better get going, too," Billy's dad said.

"No, Dad," Billy protested. "I wanna ride back with PJ and Erik."

Mr. Thatcher smiled, but shook his head. "I think it'll be awhile before
they leave. And they may stop somewhere. I've got to get you home so mom
can make supper for us. Say goodbye now so we can go."

"Okay," Billy said, disappointed. "See you, Erik. See you, PJ. Thanks for
letting me ride down with you."

"We'll be seeing you, Little Brother," Erik assured him. "I think you were
good luck for us today."

"Goodbye, Travis," Billy told the older boy. "I'm glad you won the high
jump."

"Thanks Billy." Travis ruffled the little boy's hair. "Remember, you're my
Little Brother now, too."

"I won't forget. Goodbye everybody. PJ, I wish I'd seen your home run."

PJ smiled at him. "Next time, Billy."

Billy and Mr. Thatcher walked away. At the street, Billy turned to wave
again, and then they crossed and disappeared behind the buildings.

"Do you gotta go now, too?" PJ asked Travis.

"Nope." The polder boy shook his head. "I'm sticking with you guys until I
see you off on the bus. I don't get to see my little brothers often and I'm
not missing any of it." Travis, Coach Drew, Erik, and PJ all started
walking slowly back to the athletic building. "You'll be coming to
Gordonsville soon for a track meet up there, won't you, Travis?" PJ asked.

"Yeah, in a few weeks." Travis gave them the date.

"We have an away game, then," Erik said in disappointment.

"We'll tell Billy, though," PJ assured him. "He'll wanna be there."

"Yeah, that'll be nice, PJ." Travis gave him a grateful look. "I really
like him. He's kind of a neat little kid."

"Yeah, he is," Erik agreed. "He's a lot of fun. You should have seen him on
PJ's snowboard this winter."

"PJ, are you still going to that sports camp in Florida?" Coach Drew
suddenly asked.

"Uh-huh. I'm already signed up."

Travis glanced over at him. "When does that start?"

"I fly down right after school ends."

"Yeah, and he doesn't mean on the airlines," Erik bragged. "You should see
what PJ travels around in." He related the story of the private jet he and
PJ had flown in coming back from New York, making it sound like it was Air
Force One.

"Come on, Erik," PJ said, turning red.

"Geez, PJ," Travis exclaimed. "What are you? Rich?"

PJ shook his head.

When they got to the athletic building, PJ and Erik headed for the
visitor's locker room, while Travis walked off to his. "I'll meet you out
by your bus," he told them.

PJ was silent as they got changed. Erik looked at him with concern. "PJ,
are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah, sure," PJ said, forcing a smile. "I'm okay, Erik."

"You're not mad at me, are you? I was just trying to have some fun, talking
about that plane ride. You know I was just kidding."

His roommate shrugged. "It's okay, Erik. I know you were. I just
. . . well, I sorta don't like talking about that stuff. That's all."

"Hey. I'll never mention it again, PJ," Erik vowed, turning red. "Me and my
dumb mouth. I'm sorry, I really am. I would never have done that if I knew
it would bother you. I just figured, you know . . . since it was Travis
. . ."

PJ smiled at him and punched his arm lightly. "It's okay. You're my best
friend, Erik. You always will be. I'll never be mad at you no matter what
you do."

"Thanks, PJ." Erik stared into his eyes. "Same here." PJ finished changing,
packed his duffel bag, and sat, watching his friend finish packing too.

"Erik?" he suddenly asked. "What did Jack say to you?"

"What?" Erik zipped up his bag.

"What did Jack ask you when you were saying goodbye to Bill out by the
street?"

"Oh." Turning red again, Erik glanced at PJ, and looked away. "Well
. . . he just asked if . . . you know . . . if you were okay and
everything. He wanted to know if you were sleeping all right."  "What did
you say?" PJ asked curiously.

"Well, jeez, PJ, what do you think I told him." Erik grinned. "I told him
the truth, naturally. I said that you were sleepwalking up and down the
stairs every night and keeping the whole House up."

They both laughed.

"Listen, PJ," Erik said, "he worries about you, okay? I mean, he's your
friend. He cares about you. So do I. Just like I know you care about
me. That's what friends do, okay?"

"OK. Thanks, Erik."

"PJ, I'm sorry I wasn't there to see your home run."

"That's okay. One of us had to cheer for Travis."

"Next time I'll be there, PJ, I promise. Together!" Erik held up his palm.

"Together!" PJ said. He gave Erik a high-five.

They picked up their bags, heading out to the bus where groups of
Gordonsville players were milling around, talking and laughing as they
waited to leave. Travis and Coach Drew were already there. "Wish you were
staying longer," Travis told them. "Wish this could have been an
overnight."

"Yeah, that would have been fun," Erik agreed. "Hey, listen, Travis. You
and I have to get together about this summer. I have some ideas.  I don't
live that far away from you."

"Right!" Travis' face lit up. "I hope these ideas of yours include things
like beach trips, water parks, movies, baseball games--you know, just the
basics!"

"Oh, yeah!" Erik laughed. "Listen, you and I have to find something to do
while PJ's down water-skiing in Florida!" They all laughed at that one.

"I don't suppose you'd consider working out with our team so we could make
a swimmer out of you?" Coach Drew asked with a sly grin.

Erik shook his head. "Uh-uh! I'll stick to Little League and soccer."

While Erik and Travis continued talking about summer plans, Coach Drew took
PJ aside. He looked at the boy with concern. "PJ, I really wish you'd
consider spending the summer with me and Travis. It's not too late to
change your mind. We'd love to have you on our team. And I know it would be
good for Travis. You're the very best friend he has."

"Except for you," PJ told him, smiling.

"Yeah, except for me." The coach regarded PJ thoughtfully. "I think it
would be good for you, too. I think maybe you could use a friend this
summer."

"Thanks," PJ told him. "I appreciate it. But, I need to go to my camp. They
have that baseball program that I like so much, you see."

Coach Drew nodded. "Okay. But stay in touch with us, all right? I know
Travis really likes getting e-mail from you."

"I will," PJ promised. "We might still get together again before school
ends."

Once more the coach nodded. "I hope so."

The Gordonsville players had begun to board the bus and Erik called, "We
better get going, PJ."

"Goodbye, Little Brothers." Travis shook their hands. "Keep e-mailing, so I
can hear about all the good stuff you're doing!"

"We will, Big Brother," PJ promised.

"Yeah, and I'll write about our plans for the summer," Erik told him.

They all touched fists, the boys got on the bus, and as it drove away, PJ
and Erik kept waving until Travis and Coach Drew were out of sight.

"Man, I wish we could see Travis more often," Erik said as he leaned back
in his seat.

"He's really nice," PJ agreed. "Coach Drew's nice, too."

"Oh, yeah. You can tell he's a really good coach. He understands
things. The same way Jack does."

The bus stopped at a steakhouse on the way back and the boys had a big meal
which made them sleepy. Afterwards, Erik drifted off, head pillowed on the
duffel bag he'd stuffed in the corner between his seat and the window.

PJ stayed awake longer. Leaning back in his seat on the darkened bus, he
listened to the wheels softly drumming on the highway, reliving the events
of the day. Already they seemed peculiarly distant, as if they'd happened
to someone else . . . or like he'd read about them in a book. They didn't
seem real at all. He tried to think. Had he run back to catch a fly ball at
the fence while the spectators cheered? Or had he watched Jack do that on
TV? He couldn't remember. It was all confused.

Suddenly he was in Times Square on the sidewalk. He knew Jack was somewhere
close by but he couldn't remember where. He looked in the Arcade and the
Laser Park, but couldn't find him. He's probably signing autographs, he
told himself. He decided to call Walter. He found a phone, but discovered
he'd lost Walter's number. Then he remembered where Jack was. Of course!
Jack was in Florida. He was by his pool. Why hadn't he remembered sooner?
He dove into the crystal-clear water, soft coolness swirling over his bare
skin. Then he felt Jack's strong hands on his waist, tossing him high,
flying into the air. It was a wonderful sensation! He dove to the bottom of
the pool and decided to stay there. It was so calm and peaceful. He felt
invisible. He would never leave. His hair floated, twisting in the current
around his head. His eyes stared up sightlessly. . . . Jack's son is dead,
he heard someone say. And then it didn't feel wonderful anymore. . .

PJ woke when they turned into Gordonsville. He didn't mention his dream to
Erik.

* * *

CONCLUSION OF INSTALLMENT TWENTY-ONE

Your feedback is much appreciated.
Editor Paul K. Scott's e-mail: paulkdoctor@gmail.com