Tim said, “Okay, let’s play baseball, guys. I guess I’ll be the umpire.” To decide who will bat first, Tim pulled cotton strings from his T-shirt, put them together in his hand and made a fist. Tim said, “Okay Jumper, pick one. Whoever gets the short string will take the field.”
Tim had made one long string and one short string. Jumper’s team got the short string. Jumper, number 1, was the catcher for his team. Ross, number 2, was the back catcher. Ford, number 6, was the first batter for the Sun Scorchers. Bob, number 9, was playing first base. Second base was played by Dave, number 4. Shortstop was played by Will, number 12, and Steve, number 9. Left field was played by Carl, number 5.
Ford was standing in the batter’s box and Jumper pitched the baseball so it looked like slow motion. It was going 250 miles per hour when it came over the plate. Tim shouted, “Strike One!”
Jumper pitched a curve ball that went right over home plate. Tim shouted, “Strike Two!”
Jumper pitched again. Ford swung and missed. Tim shouted, “Strike Three. You’re out!” Jumper’s team started bobbing up and down, happy he struck out the batter.
Next batter up was Paul, number 7. Jumper’s pitch missed home plate and struck Paul in the head, picking him up off his feet. Paul fell backwards, toppling over the back catcher and Tim, knocking them to the surface. Paul walked to first base after being out cold for 45 minutes.
The new batter up was Zeff. Jumper pitched. Zeff swung wildly and missed. Tim shouted, “Strike One!”
Jumper pitched and Zeff tried to bunt and missed. Tim shouted, “Strike Two!”
Paul thought Jumper didn’t see him trying to steal second base. Paul ran and Jumper threw the baseball between Paul’s legs as he was running to second. Tim shouted, “You’re out!”
It was the end of the ninth inning. It had been a battle between pitchers. Jumper with his red hot high speed power pitching had struck out the Sun Scorchers for nine innings. For Tim, things went blank. When he woke up, he was standing in the middle of his hometown ballpark.
Tim pulled out his brother Matt’s uniform and cap from the pile, putting on his brother’s cap, picking up his leg braces, slinging them over his shoulder and walking out of the ballpark, headed home.
Sheriff Park was parked at the Dairy Queen. The dispatcher, Bruce, called.
“Sheriff Park!”
“Go ahead, Bruce,” the sheriff said. “Sheriff! It’s back. We are getting a lot of calls that something really big is over the ballpark!”
