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Scratching up the Saints

Section I

Suspects
a. Paul Wright
b. Mrs. Wright
c. Gunner
d. Marcus

Section II
Body

"You've GOT to be kidding!" Robert yelled from the dugout as the umpire called a third strike on the Saint's batter. Angry, he let loose a swift kick aimed at a bucket of balls that sat near the entrance of the dugout.

Marcus lowered his head as he walked from the plate to face his coach and his team. This was his third time at bat and his third strike-out. He would never be good at baseball, he thought, at least not like Robert.

"I knew you couldn't hit the ball," Robert said as he passed Marcus between the dugout and home plate. "You couldn't hit the ball if it was as big around as your head." Robert was still angry as he walked up to the plate and began his practice swings.

Marcus sat on the bench beside Paul, his best friend since second grade. "I hope Robert strikes out." Marcus whispered. "Or better yet, maybe the pitcher will lob the ball at his head and he'll be knocked out for the rest of the season."

"That'd be good," Paul agreed as they both laughed quietly, "I know he's my brother, but if he hits another home run we'll have practice and games for a week." Paul sighed heavily, "I'd rather cut grass in the sweltering heat than watching Robert hit homers for a week."

"Me too," Marcus agreed as he leaned forward on the bench to get a better view. Even from where he sat he could see the determined look on Robert's face. He was staring at the pitcher like he dared him to throw the ball.

As the ball left the pitcher's hand Robert leaned toward his back foot and swung the bat with all his might. The only thing left to do was listen for the sound of the bat cracking against the ball.

Up in the stands Robert's mother, Mrs. Wright, gripped her seat. This was an important moment for her son. If he hit a home run, he would be the hero. If he struck out, they could still go on vacation. It was wrong, but more than anything she wanted him to strike out just this once. How badly they needed a vacation.

For months Mrs. Wright had been planning a trip to the beach. Being a single mom and working two jobs, she was exhausted. They were supposed to leave in two days. State Championship or not, they were going to the beach.

It happened so fast. One second the ball was in the pitcher's hand, the next it was soaring over the diamond, past the outfielders and over the fence. Just like that Robert had hit another home run. The Saints were going to be playing in the State Championship

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