Out At Home

Mickey and his dad were the first to arrive at Eddie Murray Field for the Blue Jays game.

The sight of the old ballpark, with its freshly limed foul lines, immaculately trimmed grass, and infield dirt lovingly raked to a pebble-free reddish brown, never failed to make Mickey’s heart race. He was so up for this game that he had changed into his uniform hours earlier. After that he’d spent forty-five minutes throwing a ball against the bounce-back machine in his backyard, just to work off the excess energy.

The rest of the Orioles seemed equally excited as they drifted in one by one and began loosening up. Gabe was there, too, in his full uni, going up to each player and slapping hands and getting them even more fired up.

There was just one problem.

The new hotshot pitcher they were counting on for the rest of the season was nowhere to be found. At five thirty, when the Orioles took infield practice, there was still no sign of Zoom.

At five forty, twenty minutes before game time, Zoom had yet to arrive.

At five forty-two, the umpires were there. But Zoom wasn’t.

Finally at five forty-five, a black SUV pulled up next to the field. The front passenger-side door opened and Zoom climbed out unhurriedly. The rear doors also opened and three boys who appeared to be Zoom’s age jumped out.

One handed him his gear bag. The other gave him a water bottle. The third offered a towel. He nodded solemnly to each kid and they fell in behind him as he sauntered to the field.

The Orioles watched all this with rapt attention.

“Please tell me I’m seeing things,” Katelyn said in a hushed tone. “Please tell me the kid doesn’t really have an entourage.”

“Unbelievable,” Sammy said. “He’s going Hollywood already? Maybe he thinks he’s, like, a big-time rapper or something”

“And he doesn’t just have one entourage,” Hunter said. “He’s got three!”

The rest of the Orioles turned to stare at him.