This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical
events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other
names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s
imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
An imprint of Bonnier Publishing USA
251 Park Avenue South, New York, NY 10010
Copyright © 2018 by Bonnier Publishing USA
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or
in part in any form.
Little Bee Books is a trademark of Bonnier Publishing USA, and
associated colophon is a trademark of Bonnier Publishing USA.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available
upon request.
ISBN 978-1-4998-0723-3 (hardcover)
First Edition 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ISBN 978-1-4998-0722-6 (paperback)
First Edition 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ISBN 978-1-4998-0724-0 (ebook)
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
1.
The First Catch
2.
Zeke at the Bat
3.
Tryouts
4.
Cheater?
5.
Play Ball!
6.
Superstar!
7.
Time to Talk
8.
Take Me Out
9.
Dylan in Action
10.
Zeke, a Winner
HARRIS WALKER AND HIS BEST FRIEND
Roxy Martinez burst out the front
door of Harris’s house. They clutched
baseball gloves, a bat, and a ball in
their hands.
The sun shone brightly. The last
bits of snow had melted. The first
flowers had started to sprout, and a
warm breeze mixed with the last of
the chilly air.
“It’s finally nice enough outside for
the First Catch of the Year!” Harris
said as he and Roxy ran to opposite
sides of his front lawn.
The First Catch of the Year had
been a tradition for Harris and Roxy
since they were both old enough to
throw a baseball.
Roxy took a few practice swings
with her bat.
“I got this new bat for Christmas,”
she said. “I can’t wait to use it!”
“And I got this new catcher’s mitt,”
Harris said, pounding his fist into the
soft leather. “Time to break it in!”
Roxy put down her bat and slipped
on her glove. She picked up the baseball
and threw it right into Harris’s mitt.
It landed with a crisp, cracking sound.
“I can’t wait for tryouts!” Harris
cried. “I hope I get to play catcher this
year.”
Harris skipped a ground ball across
the lawn. Roxy took two steps to her
right, then reached over to field the
ball backhanded.
“And I hope I get to play shortstop,”
Roxy said.
“Keep making plays like that and
you’ll be on the team for sure!” Harris
said.
Harris and Roxy planned to try
out for the Chargers, the local youth
baseball team. The Chargers played
against other teams from nearby
towns.
Roxy tossed the ball high into the
air. “Pop-up!” she yelled.
Harris looked up, raising his glove
to shield his eyes from the sun. The
ball started to come down.
“Hey, what are you guys doing?”
asked a voice from near him.
It was Zeke, Harris’s new friend and
next-door neighbor, who just happened
Harris knew his secret. Roxy did not.
“Practicing baseball,” Harris replied
without taking his eyes off the ball.
The pop-up landed in his glove with
a soft thud.
“Base . . . ball?” Zeke asked.
“You don’t have baseball in Tragas?!”
Roxy asked.
Harris and Roxy gave Zeke a quick
explanation of the sport. They talked
about pitching, fielding, hitting, and
running the bases.
Zeke smiled. “This sounds a lot like
a game I used to play,” he said. “It’s
called Bonkas. Only in Bonkas, the bats
are thinner and ten balls are put into
play at the same time!”
“Ten balls!” Roxy exclaimed. “Boy, I
have got visit Tragas some time.”
“Well, it is pretty far away,” Zeke
said, glancing slyly at Harris.
“Hey, do you want to play catch,
too?” Harris asked Zeke.
“I do,” he said. “But I don’t have a
glove.”
“No problem,” said Harris. He ran
into the house and brought out one of
his old gloves. “You can use this.”
“Play ball!” shouted Harris.
“IT’S PRETTY SIMPLE, ZEKE,”
Harris said. “I’ll hold up my glove.
You try to throw the ball into it.”
Zeke stood across the yard from
Harris. He threw the ball. It sailed
over Harris’s head and landed in a
neighbor’s yard.
“Good try!” Roxy said, trotting over
to the ball. “Now try catching.”
She tossed the ball softly over to
Zeke. He stuck his glove out too late
and the ball bounced past him. He ran
after it and picked it up.
“Now throw it to me,” said Roxy
holding up her glove.
Zeke unleashed another throw. This
one landed across the street. “I don’t
know if I can do this,” he said sadly.
“All it takes is practice,” Harris said.
“Let’s keep trying.”
Zeke’s next few throws went onto
the roof of a house, bounced off a
tree, and splashed into a neighbor’s
swimming pool.
“Practice, huh?” Zeke said, fishing
the wet ball out of the pool.
“Practice,” Harris replied, smiling.
They walked back over to the yard.
Zeke took a deep breath, reared back,
and fired the ball right into Harris’s
mitt.
“That’s it!” Roxy cried. “Now you’re
getting it!”
Zeke’s next throw flew perfectly
into Roxy’s glove.
“You see?” she said. “You’re picking
this up really fast!”
But Harris wasn’t so sure. Zeke may
be an alien, but no one could improve
that fast. Zeke might be using his powers
to control the movement of the ball, he
thought. In a game, something like that
would be cheating.
&nbs
p; “Let’s try batting next,” Harris said,
hoping he was wrong about Zeke using
his powers. He crouched down into a
catcher’s position.
Zeke picked up Roxy’s new bat and
took a couple of practice swings. Then
Roxy threw a pitch. Zeke swung early
and didn’t come close to hitting the
ball. It landed in Harris’s mitt.
“Follow the ball in, Zeke,” Roxy said.
“Then time your swing.”
Roxy threw another pitch. This time
Zeke swung too late.
Harris could see the frustration on
Zeke’s face.
Zeke swung at Roxy’s next pitch and
smacked it high into the air. It flew
over the roof and into the next yard.
“Wow!” Roxy cried. “Nice one. I
want to see where that landed!” She
ran off in search of the ball.
“Hey, I know what you’re doing,
Zeke,” Harris said when the two boys
were alone. “You’re using your powers,
“What’s wrong with that?” Zeke
asked.
“It’s a shortcut and it’s cheating,”
Harris said. “It’s not fair to the other
players. You need to improve your
skills through practice.”
“I don’t understand,” Zeke said.
“But I’ll try.”
Roxy returned with the ball. “You
must have hit that 200 feet!” she said.
“Let’s keep practicing,” said Harris,
glancing over at Zeke.
“Yes, practice,” said Zeke.
ON THE DAY OF THE TRYOUTS,
Harris, Roxy, and Zeke arrived at the
field, gloves in hand.
“Harris wants to play catcher and
I want to play shortstop,” Roxy said.
“Have you decided on a position,
Zeke?”
“Since we first played, I’ve been
watching a lot of baseball on TV,” Zeke
said. “I would like to be a pitcher.”
“Great!” said Harris. “I hope we all
make the team.”
Roxy trotted out to short. Zeke
stood out on the pitcher’s mound. And
Harris crouched behind home plate,
ready to catch Zeke’s pitches.
The first batter stepped into the
batter’s box. She raised the bat above
her shoulders and stared out at Zeke.
Behind the plate, Harris held up his
glove.
Zeke threw his first pitch. It sailed
over the batter’s head and crashed
into the wooden backstop.
“Just focus on my glove, Zeke,”
Harris shouted.
Zeke’s next pitch bounced in the
dirt in front of home plate. Harris slid
to his right and made a great play to
grab the ball before it went past him.
Harris looked out and saw the
frustration on Zeke’s face. “It’s okay,
you’ll get the next one over, Zeke,”
he shouted, pounding his mitt a few
times with his fist.
Zeke stared at Harris, then threw
his next pitch—a big curveball that
started way outside, then swept in a
huge arc back over the plate. Everyone
gasped. It was a perfect pitch!
Zeke’s pitch after that did the same
thing, but curved in the opposite
direction this time. Then he threw a
speeding bullet of a fastball that was
also a perfect strike.
Harris sighed beneath his catcher’s
mask. He’s using his powers again, he
thought. He has to be.
The next batter hit a ground ball to
shortstop. Roxy scooped up the ball
and made a perfect throw to first base
to get the runner out.
Now at bat, Harris smacked a solid
hit to left field. Roxy hit a screamer to
right field.
Then Zeke’s turn at bat came. He
stepped in to bat left-handed. Zeke
swung wildly and missed the first
two pitches. “Isn’t he a righty?” a kid
asked. That’s strange, Harris thought.
The pitcher laughed, and Zeke looked
embarrassed.
“Remember, Zeke, keep your eye on
the ball all the way in!” Harris shouted.
Zeke stared out at the pitcher and
gripped the bat tightly. On the next
pitch, he used his powers to bring the
ball right to the bat.
CRACK!
Zeke’s swing sent the ball flying
high and deep. It sailed over the
outfield fence for the only home run
of the day.
“Wow! Way to hit, Zeke!” Roxy
shouted.
Everyone on the field cheered as
Zeke rounded the bases and crossed
home plate.
Everyone except Harris.
The tryout ended and the coach
read out the names of the players who
had made the team. Harris, Roxy, and
Zeke all made it.
“All right! We’re going to be on the
team together!” Roxy shouted, patting
Harris and Zeke on the back.
As the three walked off the field,
Harris whispered to Zeke, “We have
to talk!”
“I KNOW WHAT YOU DID BACK THERE,”
Harris said softly when he and Zeke
were away from Roxy and the other
players.
“It’s not a big deal, Harris,” Zeke
replied. “I’m just using my natural
abilities like everyone else.”
“But you’re not like everyone
else,” Harris said. “That’s the point.
Using your powers means that you’re
not learning how to play the game
correctly or improve your skills like
everyone else.”
Zeke looked away.
Harris continued. “Besides, don’t
you think that using your powers
in front of so many people is risky?
Aren’t you worried that someone
might discover your secret? And you
took a spot away from someone who
deserved it. Promise me you won’t use
them anymore for baseball.”
Harris could tell from the expression
on Zeke’s face that he hadn’t really
considered this. “Okay, I promise,”
Zeke said quietly and walked away.
Over the next few days, Zeke hardly
said a word to Harris. For the first time
since they became friends, Harris felt
a strain in their friendship.
One afternoon after school, Harris
decided to talk to Roxy.
“I’m worried about Zeke,” he said as
they tossed ground balls to each other.
“What do you mean?” she asked,
snagging the ball with her glove. “He’s
been playing well at practice, and
everyone on the team seems to really
like him.”
“I think he may be cheating,” Harris
said, realizing that he was walking a
fine line between helping his friend
and guarding Zeke’s secret.
“Cheating?!” Roxy said, throwing
the ball back to Harris. “W
hy do you
think he’s cheating?”
“Um, I’m not sure,” Harris said.
“But how can someone who never
played baseball before suddenly be so
good?”
Roxy shook her head. “That doesn’t
mean he’s cheating, Harris. He did say
he played a similar game in Tragas,
Bonkers or something, so it’s probably
just that. I think you’re a little jealous,”
she said. “But, now that you mention
it, it’s pretty amazing that Zeke seems
to only throw strikes when he’s
pitching and hit the ball farther than
everyone else—batting both left- and
right-handed!”
“That’s what I mean,” Harris said,
tossing the ball high into the air.
“Yeah, it is kind of hard to explain,”
Roxy said catching the pop-up.
It sure is! Harris thought. That is,
without telling you that Zeke is an alien!
THE DAY OF THE FIRST GAME
for the Chargers arrived. Harris, Roxy,
and Zeke took the field with their
teammates.
The Chargers were playing the
Scrappers. Their first batter stepped
up to the plate.
“All right, Zeke, here we go!” Harris
shouted.
Zeke threw his first pitch. It was
way outside. Harris reached out and
made a nice catch. The next three
pitches also missed by a lot. The batter
trotted down to first base with a walk.
“Remember, just focus on my glove!”
Harris yelled out to Zeke. “That’s your
target. Let’s go!”
But Zeke had no better luck with
the next two batters. He walked each
of them on four pitches. The bases
were now loaded with nobody out.
Harris called time-out and ran over