| OCR Text |
Show Car Baseball Butch and Fenn Stories 49 "A sharp shot through the middle; Fenn is there and up with it, but it looks like . . . " Butch has now tagged the base and is racing back my way as Fenn fires the ball against the house into my hands. The throw is high, but in time, and I pull it down for the force, as Butch slides under my legs and we pile upon the plate. "In time for the out!" Fenn hollers, running up to the mound. "And what an arm this guy has shown us today! I'm telling you this kid's got a future!" So, there are no runs as we go into the top of the second inning in a scheduled three inning Wall Ball game. Then: Parley slips around the corner of the house and trots through the yard. Butch's yard is the most prominent shortcut in the neighborhood. "Parley, where you going?" Parley looks high; something's going on. I can tell by the way he keeps his chin tilted way up there. I check the side of the house to see if Old Man Wilkes is lurking around. "Hello, boys." He says it like a professor, funning us. "We got a rock fight over by Lopez's. Those guys from Riverside want a rock fight." He looks us over. "We could use a little help." He flips his hand out in a little wave and jogs up the alley, looking both ways just in case the Murder Plymouth is cruising hereabouts. |
