Armageddon's Children - Terry Brooks [69]
Then he hit it a ton, his smooth, hard swing catching the ball flush on the end of the broomstick and sending it soaring far out into the square. Chalk and Bear, who were already playing pretty far out in deference to Panther’s superior athletic ability, backed up hurriedly. But the ball dropped between them as they misjudged its distance, and Panther skipped around the bases, tossing out taunts about ineptitude and bad eyesight. Unfortunately for him, he was having such a good time that he failed to account for Sparrow, who was waiting at second base for the relay, and he ran right into her. Sparrow, furious, kicked him in the shins and started beating on him. Howling in dismay and at the same time laughing, Panther broke away.
By this time, Bear had chased down the ball. Wheeling back, he gave it a mighty heave. Bear was strong, and the ball flew a long way. Sparrow tried to catch it, but the ball caromed off her hands, took an odd hop, and bounced into Panther, who was just coming into home plate.
“You’re out!” shouted Sparrow.
“Out!” Panther laughed. “No frickin’ way.”
“Out!” Sparrow repeated. “The ball hit you on the base path. The rules say you’re out!”
Panther picked up the broomstick, waved it at her threateningly, and then threw it down again. “What are you talking about? That don’t count! Bear just heaved the ball in! He didn’t try to hit me, so I ain’t out! Besides, it hit you first!”
“Doesn’t matter who it hit first. It hit you last, and you’re out!”
“You’re frickin’ crazy!”
Sparrow stalked over to him, brushing her mop of straw-colored hair out of her blue eyes, brow furrowed in anger. “Don’t talk to me like that! Don’t use that street language on me, Panther Puss! Owl, tell him he’s out!”
The rest of them came crowding in to stand around Panther and Sparrow, who by now were right in each other’s faces, yelling. Hawk watched it for a moment, amused. Then he saw Owl give him an irritated glance as she wheeled over to try to break it up, and he decided that enough was enough.
“Hey, all right, that’s the end of it!” he shouted them down, striding over. “Panther, you’re not out. You can’t be out when the ball bounces off someone or something else first. That’s the rule. But,” he held up one hand to silence Sparrow’s objection, “you have to go back to first for running over Sparrow. Isn’t that right, Owl?” He looked over at her and winked.
She gave him a thumbs-up. “Play ball!” she shouted, one of the few things she knew they said in baseball when they wanted the game to resume, motioning Panther back to first base.
Grumbling, the players all returned to their positions. “Still say that’s bull!” snapped Panther over his shoulder as he slouched away.
Hawk ambled after Owl as she wheeled back behind home plate, hands in his pockets, head lowered so that he could watch the movement of his feet on the pavement ahead of him. “I don’t know about these games,” he said.
Owl glanced over her shoulder. “It’s good for them, Hawk. They need the games. They need something to take their minds off what’s happening around them.
They need to get all that energy and aggression out.” She gestured at him. “You should be playing, too. Why don’t you take Fixit’s place for a while?”
He shrugged. “Maybe later.”
She wheeled into position behind home plate and reached for his hand as he stopped beside her. “At least tell me what’s bothering you. And don’t say nothing because I know better. Is this about Tessa?”
It was, of course, because everything was about Tessa these days. But it was also about Candle’s vision, and he hadn’t told Owl of that yet. He wasn’t sure he should tell anyone because he didn’t know what it meant or what he should do about it. He was still working that through, trying to decide if he should make preparations to leave the city and, if so, where he should think about going.
Leaving meant uprooting everyone from the only stable home they had known.
It meant finding another place to go to, abandoning the familiar and striking off into the unknown. It meant finding a way to