Safe At Home (Home Run Edition)

Chapter 1: The Field

"Get in a line everyone. Let's pick 'em." My brother Joe pointed and shouted. He tried to organize the group of noisy boys around him. "Let's move, the sun goes down in two hours."

Playing and winning on "the Field" meant everything to us back then. Most of the neighborhood kids would find their way to the Field every day. We'd play for hours. If enough kids showed up, we'd play real games. Some nights, we'd stay out until the sky was nearly black. The bright Arizona moon would be the only light shining down on us.

The Field was a strip of beat-up grass located right next to our apartment. Most of our free time was spent there, even though it was in such poor condition. The area was about one quarter the size of a football field, and it wasn't well cared for. Weeds poked through the grass and big rocks jutted out everywhere.

I lived in the town of Tierra de Sueno, which, in Spanish means dreamland . Five of us shared a second floor apartment, located behind a tall wooden fence. That same fence acted as the left field foul line on the Field. Hitting one over the fence counted as an automatic out. Balls hit there were rarely found. They always ended up buried deep in the bushes.

I usually played center field and I loved it. My heart would race when I'd catch a line drive in the webbing of my glove or chase down a fly ball. The pothole-filled outfield was a tough place to run. Twisted ankles and bloody knees were not uncommon. Still, it was a safer place to play than the infield. Out here, players could avoid one-hoppers and line drives. Not that I was scared of them. I would have played shortstop or first base in a second. I got stuck in center because of my age, and because I was a girl. Only the older boys brought their gloves into the infield. Ground balls on the Field bounced around like they were inside a pinball machine.

While the brave ones lined up in the infield, only the best players lined up in right. This part of the Field included a section of our street. This was the one spot where errors weren't tolerated. Right fielders on the Field had to guard parked cars from flying baseballs. That job often included leaning your hip on a car's side door. A bad play from a right fielder could result in disaster. Cracked windshields and dented doors ended more than a few of our games.

I was the youngest player and the only female. Still, I never worried about getting left off a team. In terms of skills, I was right about in the middle of the pack. When captains chose teams I was never picked last. My oldest brother, Jose, who we called Joe, organized most of the games. He would usually stick me on his team in center field anyway. I was a short and skinny nine-year-old girl, but I was athletic and tough. I had the cuts and bruises to prove it. Being the underdog made me fight twice as hard.

On this particular day, I wasn't even given the chance to compete. Home Run Derby was the game of the day. Joe, my know-it-all brother, pushed me away. He stuck out his bony chest and raised his chin, his jet-black hair shining. "Sorry, Selena, today is only for the big boys. Maybe tomorrow." He turned to the crowd of boys. "Come on guys, line up and let's pick'em."

I looked over at Carlos, my older brother. I was hoping he'd say something. Carlos usually treated me more gently than Joe. Out on the Field, though, he went along with Joe's tough-guy attitude. The fact that Carlos was thirty pounds lighter than our big brother had something to do with this. My next option was to run home and tell Mom. I knew she would make it all right. But she was working downtown. I didn't know what to do. My mind raced. I stared at the big rock that sat on the edge of the Field. It acted as a backstop for our bizarre shaped diamond. The boulder towered over me. It had a crease in it's side that looked like a set of big lips.

The boys formed the line that Joe had commanded. From there, they began to choose teams. I jumped up on top of the big rock behind them. I sat down on it and dangled my feet over the side. The boys continued to pick teams. I tried to think of a way to get into the game. A few of the boys below me looked up to see what I was doing. I twisted my black hair around my index finger. With each thought my short legs swung faster and faster. I got it! I thought. I knew the perfect way to make sure that I would get a chance to play.

I pushed myself off the rock, landing feet first in a thick clump of grass. The boys still tried to ignore me. That is, until I made a challenge that changed everything. "I bet I can hit the ball farther than you, Joe." I spoke loudly, pointing at him in front of everyone. This comment drew the attention of the entire crowd. "Well?" I said, putting my hands on my hips.

"Ooooh." Sergio Lopez shot a sharp look at my brother. "Now that's a challenge, Joe." He was egging him on.

"You get one pitch and I get three," I continued. "If I lose, I won't bug you to let me play ever again. If I win, from now on, I always get to play."

After I had spoken those words I wanted them back. What if Joe hit the ball farther than me? He was the best player on the Field. If I lost, would I ever get the chance to play on the Field again? I had to take back my offer. "Wait, Joe, I--"

"See, I knew it," he said. "Now you're being smart, Selena. You don't want to play against me."

His cocky attitude made me want to scream. I couldn't back down now. "Yes I do." I moved closer to my brother. "Unless, I mean--" I grinned.

"Unless what?" He asked.

"Unless you're too scared--too chicken." I raised my eyebrows at my brother and laughed as I said, "Are you too chicken, Joe?"

Sergio looked over at him and started flapping his arms up and down. "Buck, buck, buck, buck, buck!" I heard a few other boys jump in. I could see that Joe was angry now.

I smiled as I twisted the ribbons and bows Mom had put in my hair. This was something Mom and I did every day. Each morning before school, she would take the time to put ribbons and bows in my hair. Every time I got nervous or excited about something I would run my fingers through them.

"Buck, buck, buck, buck, buck." Carlos joined Sergio.

"Shut up!" Joe shot a mean look over at Carlos. He then moved closer to me, whispering so that only I could hear him. "Okay, Selena, but just remember, you asked for this. It's time I teach you a lesson, little girl." Joe glanced at the crowd. "Let's play ball." He smiled nervously again. He knew that this was not a winning situation for him. On one hand, he couldn't turn down my challenge. He had to accept it. But even if he beat his baby sister, he would still look foolish.

There was also the unthinkable--he could lose.

Feeling the pressure, Joe spoke to the crowd once more. "I'll even bat left-handed, to give her a chance." Everyone smiled at this show of sportsmanship. The truth was, they were all hoping that the biggest and oldest boy on the Field would lose.

I reached down and grabbed the smallest bat. Being the youngest had one advantage--I got to go first. I dug my dirty white tennis shoes into the ground. "I'm ready," I yelled. The group of boys stood a few feet behind me at home plate. Joe made his way to the pitcher's mound.

He lofted the first pitch softly in the air. My uppercut swing sent the baseball looping high, but not far. That wasn't going to do it. Even left-handed, my brother would be able to hit the ball farther than that. "That was just the first one." I explained to the crowd. "Give me another one, Jose."

The second pitch was inside, and the ball weakly bounced off the handle of my bat. It was even shorter than my first swing. Joe was really smiling now. He was about to beat me very easily-- and do so left-handed. "All right, this is it. Now I'm serious." I tried to convince myself. The crowd settled back a few feet. They were disappointed by my first two swings. Keep your eye on the ball, Selena, I told myself. Snapping the bat back into position, I stared at Joe's right hand. His next pitch came in low. This forced me to level out my swing. As I extended my short arms, the ball hit the "sweet spot" of my bat. I knew I'd hit it well just by the way it sounded. Smack! It shot forty feet in the air, sailing deep into center field. It was probably the farthest ball I had ever hit.

"Whoooa!" reacted the neighborhood boys who stood behind me.

"Uh-oh, Joe." Sergio laughed and looked over at my brother.

"Big hit, Selena!" Carlos slapped me five.

I raised my right arm and pointed at the ball. "I think that's a winner!"

The smirk on Joe's face showed his nervousness. He tried to mask it, lifting his head high. "Give me any bat. It doesn't matter."

Sergio tossed him the big barrel. "Show us what you've got, Joe."

Joe flipped the bat over his left shoulder. Each of his practice swings sent the giant bat wobbling in different directions. He was no switch-hitter. Everyone knew that.

"Remember, only one swing," I laughed.

All eyes focused on Joe. Carlos wound up and delivered a pitch in the dirt. Joe was smart enough not to swing at that one. "Sorry Joe," Carlos winked at me. He was doing whatever he could to help me win. I knew that his next pitch would have to be a strike or he'd really hear it from Joe. Sure enough, I was right. Carlos let go of a straight pitch that headed right down the middle. As the ball reached the batter's box Joe swung with all his might. He connected. At first, I thought his ball was going to fly past mine. Luckily, the ball smacked the top half of his bat. This caused it to sail straight up into the air. It plopped down near second base, well short of my blast.

"That was a terrible pitch!" Joe yelled as he walked up to Carlos and gave him a shove.

I skipped over to Joe to shake his hand. He walked away from me. "Go away, Selana."

My light brown face beamed anyway. "Looks like I'll be seeing you guys tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and the next."

The fact that I had earned an automatic invite to play was great. But the greatest prize I earned that day on the Field was respect. After seeing me take on Joe, everyone agreed that this little girl could play. I stopped hearing whispers of, "Just let her get on base." The "pitch underhand to Selena" rule was wiped out, too. Now that I was officially "one of the guys," baseball became the focus of my life. Winning that bet with Joe started it all. From that day forward--more than anything else--I wanted to be a baseball player.