Everyone's Hero: The Unofficial Novelization

Chapter 4

The next morning brought a golden haze of sunshine into Yankee's room. It was as golden as the days he would remember in his senior years. He woke up feeling bright and early, but he rubbed his eyes with both to ensure that there were no signs of sand or dust in his tear ducts. His right hand opened the drawer, making sure that Screwy was still inside it and of course, he was.

"Morning, Screwy."

"Mornin'," yawned the ball in his mind.

The sound of the door opening shot his senses up to their peak and when he left his bed, entering the room to investigate, there were his parents standing before Mr. Barrow, Mr. Ruppert and a Jewish police officer of the NYPD known as Max Finkelstein. Captain Finklestein was thin, and he wore a blue uniform with a matching cap. His gold badge reflected the morning light, bringing a small patch of it towards the top corner of the room behind Yankee. Mr. Barrow and Mr. Ruppert on the other hand, stood with their grey and coal black fedoras held at the exact level of their stomachs, as though someone very dear to them had passed away. But thankfully, on their part, this wasn't the case.

"I'm sorry to bother you so early," said Mr. Barrow. "But we have a crisis on our hands. Someone broke into the Yankees' locker room last night and Babe Ruth's bat has been reported missing."

Yankee's eyes widened and so did his parents. How could anyone be so cruel enough to steal a lucky baseball bat? He had but two guesses.

"I think I know who stole it, Mr. Barrow," interrupted Yankee as he stepped up to the managers. "I think they were two guys from the Cubs. I saw 'em last night."

Mr. Barrow and Captain Finklestein seemed interested, but Mr. Ruppert shot Stanley a glare of icy eyes.

"You let a child into the locker room?"

"He just wanted to see."

Captain Finklestein lowered his eye level down to Yankee's.

"Did you see anyone else in the locker room besides those two?"

"No," Yankee shook his head.

"Investigate the room and make sure he's not lying," Ruppert ordered.

Emily was offended.

"My son is not a thief!"

But Captain Finklestein chose direct orders over an innocent woman's defense. He walked right past Yankee and scoured his room, check under the bed and through the closet. As there were no signs of a bat anywhere (perhaps even in a hidden floorboard used to store booze), his results were totally inconclusive.

"No bat here," was what he said, plainly and simply.

Emily and Stanley breathed in relief. "Thank God!" ran through their heads over and over.

"We still have Game 2 today," said Ruppert to Barrow. "Maybe we'll be in luck."

"And after that, we need to pack up our gear for Chicago," reminded Barrow.

Then he turned to Stanley. It seemed as though he had been trying to prevent himself from speaking the very words Stan feared he would say.

"Stanley Irving. As general manager for the New York Yankees, you are hereby discharged until the bat is found. In layman's terms, you are fired."

"Fired?!" Stanley was on the threshold of tearing his hair out. Without any money coming in, they would have to live on a strict budget until he found another job.

"If anyone deserves to be fired, it's the real thief!" cried Emily in a fit of outrage.

"Try to understand, Mrs. Irving, someone has to be held responsible. It was your husband's shift, not mine. If Babe's bat is found, I'll give Stanley his job back, but until then...." Barrow paused for four seconds. "I suggest you find another job."