Ann Martin - Kristy's Mystery Admirer

I was incensed. Especially considering that Shannon and I were on our way to the ball field for a game against the Bashers. (As we walked along, I kept my eye out for slow-driving, suspicious-looking cars.)

Ahead of us were walking David Michael, the Papadakis kids, and a couple of other Krushers from our neighborhood. They were laughing and talking, paying no attention to Shannon and me.

"Well, if that's what Bart is doing, that is really . . . that is really despicable!" I exclaimed. (That was the worst thing I could think of to say.)

"I know," said Shannon. "I agree. I refused to speak to him in school today."

"Thank you," I told her.

The thought that the notes might be from Bart after all did two things for me. One, it made me less worried about a lunatic being after me, and two, it made me incredibly angry — which was good. The more angry I am the more energy I have, and the more energy I have, the better I coach the Krushers. We were going to beat the Bashers that day.

"You know what else is wrong with your lunatic theory?" asked Shannon as we reached the playing field.

"What?" I replied, even though I was tired of hearing about all the things wrong with my theory.

"If a psycho really did want ransom money, why wouldn't he kidnap Karen or Andrew?

They're Watson's own children, plus they're littler and they'd be easier to capture."

I just made a face. I didn't like the way Shannon had implied that "real" children are more important than stepchildren. And I didn't like to think about Karen or Andrew being kidnapped.

Shannon didn't see my face, though. She had spotted Mary Anne and Dawn. They were sitting under a tree. Dawn had brought the Braddock kids to the ball field (Matt as a player, Haley as a cheerleader), and Mary Anne had just come along to cheer the Krush-ers on. Shannon ran over to them and they began to talk. I almost joined them, but I was a little angry at Shannon for making those comments (even though I knew she hadn't meant to hurt me or upset me). Besides, the Krushers were excited and ready to begin the game, and the Bashers were nearby, looking tough.

I caught Bart's eye (he was surrounded by his team) and he grinned at me, but I just looked away. How could he smile at me like that?

The game began. The Krushers were up at bat first, and I'd placed Matt Braddock in the number-one spot in the lineup. He may be

deaf, but he is one of our best hitters.

The Bashers pitcher wound up and slammed a ball to Matt.

CRACK!

Matt hit the ball with such force that I thought it would break a window at Stoney-brook Elementary. But it hit the ground first. An outfielder scrambled after it. Meanwhile, Matt was running bases and had lost sight of the ball. He hesitated at third base.

Nicky Pike signed something to him frantically and Matt frowned. He stayed where he was, looking completely confused. A few seconds later, the third baseman was holding the ball triumphantly, and Haley Braddock had her head in her hands.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"Nicky was signing, 'Swim! Swim!' to Matt. I think he meant to sign, 'Run, run.' Matt could have made a home run, but he didn't know what was going on."

No wonder Matt had looked confused, I thought. Then I said to Haley, "Will you explain things to Matt later? Tell him it wasn't his fault and I'm not mad. I'll talk to Nicky. I think he needs a refresher course in sign language from you, Haley."

Next up at bat was Claire Pike. She is not a good hitter, and I wanted to get her turn

out of the way. as quickly as possible. Claire surprised me, though. I think she surprised herself, too, when her bat connected with the first ball pitched and sailed away from her.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then took off for first base.

But — SWOCK! The pitcher caught Claire's ball on the fly.

"One out!" called the referee.

Claire immediately threw a tantrum. "Nofe-air! Nofe-air!"

I let Nicky and Vanessa calm her down and sent Jake Kuhn up to bat. He struck out. Two outs. Matt stood on third base with his hand on his hip, looking disgusted and disappointed. I couldn't blame him.

Jackie Rodowsky was up next. He swung and missed twice before getting a hit. But it was a low grounder, and the pitcher scooped the ball up and tossed it to the catcher, who got it just before Matt slid home. Three outs.

Matt looked like he was ready to kill someone, or maybe a lot of someones. First his chance at a home run had been ruined, then his chance to score.

"Don't worry," I said calmly to my team before they headed, discouraged, to the field. "The score is still zero to zero. Nicky, you're pitching. See if you can keep the game score-

less. The rest of you, just play your best."

Nicky did not, unfortunately, manage to keep the game scoreless. By the end of the first inning, the score was 3-0, in favor of the Bashers.

"Come on, you guys," I said cheerfully to the Krushers as the teams changed places again. "I know you can earn some runs this time. I can feel it. Now get out there and give it your best."

"Okay, Kristy Thomas," said Gabbie Perkins.

(I am always amazed at how the Krushers just keep on going. Sometimes they are disappointed or Claire throws a tantrum, but for the most part, the kids cheer each other on, don't begrudge anybody anything, and are understanding of each other and their shortcomings. Still, they must have been upset at the prospect of losing to the Bashers, after finally beating them, especially with the World Series just around the corner.)

The Krushers dutifully got into the batting order, though,'and Buddy Barrett stepped up to the plate. He was nervous but trying not to show it.

The Basher pitcher wound up and let fly a fastball.

Buddy was prepared. THWACK. The ball

sailed through the air — but it was out of bounds.

And it hit Shannon on the head.

"OW!" she shrieked.

She and Dawn and Mary Anne had seen the ball coming toward them and, in trying to duck, had gotten in each other's way. Shannon hadn't been able to avoid the ball.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Dawn and Mary Anne cried.

"I'm sorrier!" That was Buddy. He and I and a whole group of kids had run over to Shannon.

"Are you all right?" everyone kept asking.

"I think so," Shannon replied, patting her head cautiously. (This is why we play so/fball.)

"Are you really all right?" asked Buddy anxiously.

"Yes, I really am." Shannon smiled at Buddy, and he looked back at her with what can only be called love.

Bart had run over to us by this time, along with some of his teammates.

"Are you okay, Shannon?" he asked, genuinely concerned. (Shannon was rubbing her head, even though she was smiling at Buddy.)

Shannon did not answer Bart. She didn't even look at him. (Neither did Mary Anne nor Dawn. I had a feeling Shannon had told them

her suspicions about Bart.) And I focused on Shannon, feeling only mildly sorry for Bart.

When Shannon had convinced us that she truly was fine (or was going to be) and had even asked to keep the ball with which she'd been hit, the collected Krushers and Bashers finally returned to their game. Buddy lingered for a moment, though, received another smile from Shannon, then ran to catch up with his team.

The rest of the game went about the same way as the first inning. The Krushers simply were not a match for the Bashers- that day, no matter how hard they tried, and no matter how loudly the cheerleaders shouted. In the end, the Bashers beat the Krushers 10-1, and that one run was suspect, but the Bashers "gave" it to us, since they already had eight runs at the time and the game was nearing its end.

When the game was over, Bart trotted up to me and said, "Good game, Kristy. You coached your kids well."