It's Going, Going, Gone!

Prologue

     "Skye Jade Parker! What the hell do you think you're doing?" James Parker, my father, asked me.
     "Going to play ball with Benny." I answered honestly, knowing Benny was the only of my friends my father actually tolerated.
     "Hell no! Go wash the dishes."
     "I did."
     "Go clean your room."
     "I did."
     "Go scrub the washroom."
     "I did."
     "Go mow the lawn."
     Reluctantly, I put down my old leather ball glove and walked to the garage. My father smiled triumphantly and picked up the newspaper. I opened the garage and pushed the lawnmower out to the grass. I started it up and pushed it back and forth across the grassy lawn, occasionally wiping the sweat off my brow.
     When I was finished, I looked up to see all my friends. "Where've you been, Hurricane Skye?" Squints asked me.
     "My dad wouldn't let me come until I finished mowin' the lawn." I answered.
     "Well, you're finished now, come play." My best friend Benny said.
     I smiled and rolled the lawnmower back to the garage and closed the garage while Benny went inside to grab my glove. My brother tossed me my glove and we started jogging down the street to the sandlot. "You've been waiting all day for me?" I asked Ham.
     "Yeah, anything for our favorite Hurricane." He answered.
     I smiled and continued down the street. It was a Saturday morning in April. Baseball at the sandlot, couldn't be better, right? Well, for the boys, no. For me, it would be better if I was allowed to play in the few games we play. But, sometimes you have to make do with what you got. For now, at least. "Hurricane, we got games during recess at school, dress like a guy?" Benny told me.
     "Of course! I might as well try to get away with what I can. I call dibs on wearing a Dodgers jersey!" I answered.
     "Not cool, tomorrow's picture day!"
     "I don't care, I called dibs!"
     "You two are ridiculous." Timmy said.
     "You two are ridiculous." Tommy mimicked his brother.
     Benny and I rolled our eyes in unison as we continued jogging. As soon as we reached the sandlot, Ham placed the bat in my hands, but Benny took it away. "She's unpredictable. We haven't even started yet, can't let her uncork a homer." He argued.
     "That's why we call her Hurricane. She's unpredictable." Squints noted.
     I rolled my eyes and took the bat out of Benny's hands, "I'll be careful, I promise."
     "You better be, otherwise, we gotta buy a new ball." Benny insisted.
     "I know, I know. DeNunez, pitch me the Heater."
     "There's no way she's not gonna crush that ball!" Bertram argued.
     Nonetheless, when I was lined up and loaded, DeNunez pitched me the Heater. I heard the satisfying CRACK! of the bat and bolted for first. I looked up and saw everyone just standing there. Dang it! My conscience scolded me. You said you wouldn't hit a homer!
     I rounded second and third before heading home. "Hurricane! You said you'd be careful!" Benny scolded me.
     "Sorry, Benny!" I called.
     "Guys, we gotta buy a ball!" Benny decided.
     I put my glove down in the dugout and thrust my head into my hands. "Dang it. Dang it. Dang it!" I muttered under my breath.
     "Oh, come on. Don't feel bad. You belted a homer, that's awesome." Yeah-yeah told me.
     "But now we have to spend the day doin' chores instead of playin' ball."
     "Well, yeah-yeah. But, maybe next time you wait until the end of the day for a homer."
     "Yeah. That'll be the new plan of action."
     "Come on. Let's go start collecting bottles."

***

     "This is my friend Jade. We call him Hurricane." Benny introduced me.
     "Look up." The kid commanded.
     I pulled my hat down further and looked up. "Say something." He commanded next.
     "He's a mute. Won't say a thing after his mom died." Benny explained.
     "Where's that girl you got hidden amongst you?" The kid asked.
     "She's home sick." Benny lied.
     "I didn't know this kid was in our grade, Benny."
     "Yeah, he just moved here."
     "Oh, really?"
     The kid pulled the hat right off my head, causing my long black hair to cascade down my back. "She's not playing." The kid decided.
     "I'll tell you what, if your pitcher can strike me out, I won't play. However, if I get a base hit, no, a homer, you have to let me play. Deal?" I suggested as I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and put my hat back on.
     "Fine. I doubt you'll hit one." The kid said.
     "You better not blow this, Hurricane." Benny demanded.
     "Chill, I got this." I assured him.
     I handed my glove to Benny and took the bat out of Ham's hands. "You better not quick-pitch me." I told the pitcher.
     I lined up at the plate and got into my load. The pitcher rolled his eyes and pitched the ball. I fouled off the ball. The catcher threw the ball back to the pitcher. He pitched and I had another foul. Another pitch and another foul. Another pitch and the ball goes flying over the fence. I ran around the bases while the Timmons brothers went to go get the ball. "Boom! That's our Hurricane!" Yeah-yeah cheered.
     "Fine. She can play." The kid finally decided.
     "Play ball!" The catcher shouted.
     Yeah-yeah walked up to the plate and lined up with the two-step. "Go Yeah-yeah!" I cheered for my friend.
     He smiled at me. Per usual, Yeah-yeah got two strikes in five pitches. "This next one's dedicated to my good luck charm, Miss Hurricane Skye!" Yeah-yeah announced.
     He always did that, he would wait for a full count and then dedicate a hit to me, claiming I was his good luck charm. The next ten minutes went on like that, the boys stepping up to the plate and getting base hits.
     Finally, Benny was up to bat. "Go Benny! Crush that ball!" I cheered.
     My friend smiled at me and tapped the bat against the inside of his black Converse before tapping the plate. Moving the bat confidently, he lined up at home plate. Benny crushed the first pitch out to left field. He rounded first and second before the ball made it to the cut-off man. As Benny ran for home, he got stuck in a pickle.
     At his house, Benny and I had rehearsed this situation with Ham at least a thousand times. "Pickle! Go on! Go!" Ham shouted as he leapt off the bench. We followed him and continued cheering for Benny.
     Finally out-pacing the pitcher and third basemen, Benny ran fast as a jet to home. Knowing I was up to bat next, the other team groaned and threw their gloves on the ground. Oh, what a good day it was for baseball.