The Spy on Third Base Read Free

voice. “See this morning’s paper? It says you’re psychic!”
    A cold streak shot up T.V.’s spine. “Who is this?” he demanded.
    “Don’t try to use your ‘powers’ in the game against the Stockades, or you’ll be sorry. And you know it!”
    Click! The caller hung up.
    T.V. returned to the table, his heart pounding.
    “Who was that?” his father asked, peeking around the edge of the paper.
    T.V. avoided his eyes. “Some kid … calling about the article.”
    “Sounds like your fame is spreading quickly,” Mr. Adams said.
    “Lucky me,” T.V. mumbled.
    Mr. Adams laid the paper aside and patted T.V.’s hand. “Don’t worry, son. This too shall pass. Pretty soon you’ll be just
     a regular guy again.”
    Not soon enough, T.V. thought. But in the meantime, he promised himself, he would try to put the phone call out of his mind.
    That afternoon T.V. got out his swimming trunks and went to the park pool. It was sunny and hot and he was sure a good swim
     would make him feel better.
    When he got there, some of the guys looked familiar. He recognized two from the Stockade Bulls baseball team. The short, husky
     one was Chet Barker, the Bulls’ catcher. The tall, skinny one was Stick Jolly, the Bulls’ third baseman.
    “Look who’s here! T.V. Adams, the great mind-reader!” Chet yelled. He was standing on the diving board, ready to dive off.
     Stickwas sitting on the edge of the pool, his wet black hair matted down.
     

    T. V. blushed. Oh, no, he thought. Not that again.
    “See you made the headlines!” Stick’s high-pitched voice came across the pool. “Wow! A psychic! You might be on TV, T.V.!
     Hah!”
    T.V. glared at him.
    Stick and Chet laughed.
    “Don’t let those goons get to you,” someone said from behind T.V.
    T.V. whirled around and found himself facing Alfie. Chuck stood next to him, shuffling his feet.
    “We saw the article about you,” Alfie said. He seemed nervous. “And Chuck and I were talking.”
    “We’re sorry about yesterday,” Chuck said. His eyes were red from swimming underwater. “We acted like jerks.”
    T.V. grinned. He felt as though a block of ice had melted inside him.
    “Coming in?” Alfie asked. “The water’s great.”
    “Yeah,” T.V. said. “I’ll go change, and…”
    Just then Stick walked up to them, a crooked smile on his face. “How do you do it, T.V.? What kind of power have you got?”
    T.V. tried to keep his cool. “I haven’t got any power,” he said firmly. “I just study the batters, that’s all. Anybody could
     do the same thing.”
    The crooked smile broadened. “Well, look, pal. Don’t try to study us when we play you guys on Thursday.”
    Stick’s threat sounded familiar, but T.V. was sure that Stick wasn’t the one who had called. Not with that high voice.
    “He’s right!” Chet Barker yelled, springing up and down on the edge of the diving board. “It’ll never work on us! We’re the
     Bulls, man!”
    Then he dove, making a complete turn in the air before straightening out and hitting the water, fingertips first.

6

    The day was gray in more ways than one as T.V. Adams waited for his turn to bat. There wasn’t a blue patch in the whole sky,
     as if the sun were having a day off. And T.V., gloomy as the day, had made up his mind he wasn’t going to do any “spying”
     in this game against the Stockade Bulls. He’d been threatened too many times and the butt of too many jokes since the game
     against the Green Dragons.
    And just a few moments ago someone in the crowd had shouted at him, “What’s he going to do, T.V.? Hit or strike out?”
    The person was referring to José Mendez, who was batting now. It was the top of the first inning. There was one out, and Bus
     was on first base. He had smashed a single through the pitcher’s box. I don’t know and I don’t care, T.V. wanted to say to
     the fan, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
    José drilled a line drive directly at the first baseman. Bus started to