Wall Ball Read Free Page B

buried houses up to the eaves. You expected to see reindeer zipping through the air.
    “On Donner,” I called. My dog cocked his head at me as if I was crazy. “What?” I asked. “You might as well be a reindeer in that getup. No self-respecting dog would be caught playing dead in such a coat.”
    To let Mr. Bones know I was just kidding, I tossed a snowball for him to chase. He caught it on the fly and ate it.
    When we got to the park, the whole team was gathered on the frozen tundra of what was once a baseball diamond. Everybody, that is, except Gasser Phipps. I wondered if he’d gotten tired of ice cream yet. Just thethought of it made me shiver. From where I was standing, the whole world looked like a big scoop of vanilla.
    Mr. Bones and I greeted the guys: Slingshot. Ducks Bunion. Ocho James. Kid Rabbit. Stump. Tugboat Tooley. Gilly Wishes and his kid brother, Billy. The Glove. And, of course, Lou “Skip-to-My-Lou” Clementine.
    Standing next to Skip was a tall guy in a red hat with big earflaps. I didn’t recognize him.
    “Welcome back, team,” said Skip Lou, his breath puffing white in the frigid air. “It’s been a long winter. But now it’s high time for baseball. We’re going to have to dig out the field to play, of course. Before we do, I want to introduce our newest teammate.”
    The tall guy in the red hat with earflaps smiled shyly.
    “This here is Orlando Ramirez,” said Skip. “He can catch anything that moves, and he’s got a cannon for an arm. He’ll be patrolling center field while Gasser mends. Orlando’sfamily just moved to town. He starts school with you guys on Monday.”
    In addition to being coach of the Rounders, Skip Lou was the music teacher at Rambletown Elementary School. I guessed that was how he knew about Orlando and his family. Skip played clarinet like nobody’s business.
    We all welcomed the new kid to Rambletown and to the Rounders.
    “Where did you move from?” I asked.
    “Florida,” Orlando said.
    “Cool!” Billy Wishes gushed. “Like near Disney World? Orlando from Orlando?”
    Billy once won a trip to Disney World for himself and his whole family. He really wanted to go back sometime. Given how lucky he was, I didn’t doubt he would.
    Orlando shook his head. “Farther north,” he said. “Up around Jacksonville.”
    “You ever play snow baseball in Florida?” I asked, looking across our field.
    “No, I haven’t.” Orlando laughed. “I’ve nevereven been sledding. I have ice-skated though.”
    “In Florida?” Ducks asked, astonished.
    “Sure. There’s an indoor rink near where I lived. I used to go there all the time. I love to skate.”
    “That’s good,” said Ducks. “The way this winter is hanging on, we may have to change over into a hockey team.” He nodded toward the field. “Just flood it and turn the outfield into a rink.”
    “I like winter,” Orlando said. “It’s…it’s…”
    “Cold,” said Slingshot. “That’s what it is. Cold and stubborn. It’s like a rash that just won’t go away. Personally, I think Florida sounds awesome. I bet you played baseball year-round.”
    Orlando nodded. “Even during Christmas vacation we went to the batting cages,” he said. “In shorts and T-shirts.”
    “Chipper Jones is from Florida,” chimed in Stump, our resident expert on the life stories and career stats of major-league players. “Allthat sunshine is a huge advantage. In Florida, players never have to shovel the diamond. So, are you any good?”
    Stump never was shy about getting right to the point.
    “Pretty good, I guess,” Orlando muttered.
    “You have a nickname?” asked Ducks Bunion, tactfully changing the subject.
    “Some people call me Or,” our new center fielder admitted.
    We all considered this bit of information. Or didn’t seem like much of a nickname. It didn’t seem complete. “Or what?” you wanted to ask. “Or else?”
    “I was thinking of something a little more colorful,” said Ducks, whose