Force Out Read Free Page A

and blond—people said he looked just like her—but her authority didn’t come from the badge; it came from the burning light in her eyes. The consequences of spilling the beans danced around in his head. He shut his mouth and regrouped.
    â€œCan’t sleep.”
    â€œWell, you’ve got a big game tomorrow, so you better try.” She lay back down and pulled the covers over her head with a snap.
    â€œOkay.” Joey turned and went to bed.
    Sometime much later, he nodded off.
    There was nothing he loved more than baseball .
    The smooth wood of the bat handle was made for his hands. He felt, gripping it tight, that it connected him to the rest of the universe like an astronaut’s tether in space. He swung the bat to loosen his limbs and felt the power stored up there, the charge of a storm cloud ready to burst down upon the earth with the noise and the vibration of a great thunderclap trailed by the burning smell of ozone from the heavens .
    Coach Barrett stood on the other side of the plate. Instead of his cap and Blue Jays uniform, he wore a suit and tie. “You have to score, Joey. You have to score for us to win. You have to score. Whatever you do, don’t get an out.”
    â€œ V for victory, Coach.” Joey held up his first two fingers and spread them wide like his smile .
    When he stepped to the plate, the pitcher and the other players stood like helpless pieces on a chessboard, immobile and small by comparison to his quick-limbed swing and towering size. Joey laughed—meaning it as a private celebration but unable to contain his confidence. The umpire and the catcher gazed up at him respectfully. Then came the pitch, rotating on its axis, big and slow like a planet. Joey had time to feel the itch of anticipation and to rear back with all his might and strike it solidly in the center, blasting it into center field .
    That’s when everything changed .
    He dropped the bat and started to run, but his legs felt like tubes of sand, heavy and unresponsive. He was nearly paralyzed. Because the ball was hit so far and so well, he somehow made it to first base even with his unresponsive legs. The crowd went absolutely wild and Joey waved up to them, even the tiny frantic figures in the upper decks. It seemed the whole world was watching and waiting for him to score the winning run .
    The next batter stepped up to the plate. It was Zach. Oh, Zach! With his quick swing and nimble, athletic form, he was made for baseball. Zach pointed his bat toward the left field fence and the crowd cheered him as well. Zach then pointed a finger at Joey. Joey gave him a V for victory, and they had a private moment between them. The first baseman said something Joey couldn’t understand, and before he knew it, the pitch was thrown. Zach hit the ball, but it dribbled up the middle of the diamond and the second baseman scooped it from the dirt .
    Joey ran, or he tried .
    His legs hung heavy and dead from his hips, worse than before .
    Every ounce of effort and energy he had, he poured into his legs and his arms, pumping for his very life because he had to get to second. He had to score. They had to win. In slow motion, he moved, one step, two. He began to sweat. The second baseman had the ball. He raised his foot to stomp on the bag. The stomp would end everything for Joey, not just this inning or this game. It would end his life, he knew that. It was the end of everything he knew. He had to score. He had to win, but there stood the second baseman. Joey looked back at first base. Maybe he could go back? No, Zach came running. Joey had to go forward. He had to advance. It was a force-out .
    Force. Out .
    Everything. Over .
    The horror of it made Joey fight forward, screaming as the second baseman’s foot came down with a stomp to cave the entire universe in on itself .
    Nothing he could do .

6
    â€œAhhhhh!” Joey tore the covers off and sat upright in the tangle of damp sheets.
    He took