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Authors: Robert Lipsyte

Center Field (17 page)

BOOK: Center Field
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The principal, Dr. Howard, made him wait a half hour in her small outer office with her stone-faced secretary, an older woman who kept shooting suspicious glances at Mike, as if she expected him to snatch the tiny glass figurines on her desktop. It would have seemed funny if he wasn't so jittery. Coach Cody could show up at any moment. He stared at Dr. Howard's closed office door, willing it to open. From behind him came the chatter and bustle of the big main office where a dozen clerks, secretaries, and volunteers, including Tori, answered phone calls, filed attendance records, and received visitors and students at the long front desk. He sensed Tori scowling at his back. He was caught in a crossfire of laser glares.

He clutched the folder and tried to practice what he was going to say, the way he had rehearsed it with Zack. Calmly. Simply. No
Law & Order
dramatics. These papers
prove that the person we know as Gary James Cody is really Roger Wald. He lied on his résumé to get this job. Just lay it down, sweet as a bunt, and you'll get on base. That's all you have to do. Don't go for the home run now—time for that later. Just start the rally, get Dr. Howard on our side.

Phones rang. Period bells clanged. A bright flash of laughter from the main office. The stony secretary shook her head without looking up.

Why am I doing this? Everything's okay. I'm in center field. Captain of the team. Hitting a ton. Keep your eyes on the prize. Which is what, young baller?

Concentrate. Get back in the zone. These papers prove that the person we know as Gary James Cody is really Roger Wald. He lied on his résumé to get this job.

The door opened. Dr. Howard smiled and waved him in. He'd never been so close to her. Smaller than he thought, slimmer. Smelled good. The dark freckles on her milk-chocolate skin were kind of cute. He started to relax a little. Good. You're loose. Bad. You're getting distracted.

She shook his hand and looked up at him. “That was some catch in the Westfield Hills game. Billy Budd should see that—he'd start worrying about his job.” She laughed. “Coach Cody was so proud you won that contest and so am I. What can I do for you, Mike?”

He took a breath. Get back in the zone. “These papers prove that the person we know as Gary James Cody is really Roger Wald. He lied on his résumé to get this job.” He handed her the folder. “Roger Wald was never a Ranger in combat. He served two years in the Army, but all in the U.S. He was a personnel records clerk. A private. He stole a dead officer's identity.”

She took the folder without opening it and nodded. “I'm glad you brought this to me, Mike. It's exactly what a captain should do.” She dropped the folder on her desk. “You know, this is not the first time I've been apprised of such allegations. I was deeply concerned until we checked them out. No substance at all.” She lowered her voice. “There are people out to undermine Mr. Cody and me and to turn Ridgedale High back into the unsafe, underperforming school it once was. That is simply not going to happen.”

Even towering over her, Mike suddenly felt himself getting smaller, weaker, as if he had just struck out without even swinging. He struggled to control his softening muscles, deepen his voice. “That material is…”

“Don't tell me, Mike.” She raised her hand. “I don't want to know how you got it because then I'd be forced to take action. Hacking is a federal crime, not to mention the civil lawsuits from anyone damaged by the action.” She put her
hand on his arm. “You've been through a lot lately, Mike, I know that, and you've handled yourself well. We were planning an assembly to celebrate your day with Billy, but that will have to wait until”—she arched her eyebrows—“your filmmaker rejoins us.”

She was steering him out of her office.

He only imagined the secretary's suspicious glances turning into good-riddance dismissals, Tori's scowls into questioning looks. He was out in the hall. No way he was going to class. He ditched the day and headed for the county park.

 

Zack relaxed after the third time Mike swore he had not mentioned his name. “What now?”

“You've got to do better.”

“Better?” His eyelids snapped open like window shades. His jaw dropped. It was almost comical. Puke's a puke, Mike thought, but he's my puke.

“I been thinking about this all day—I…”

“You thinking?” said Zack.

“…figure Dr. Howard can get past the false résumé. After all, she hired him and she needs him. But anything that would tie Cody up to illegal immigration or to threatening a student with revealing her records would be just too hot. She'd flip him.”

“Flip him?”

“It's a law enforcement term. Give him up. Turn him over.”

Zack looked impressed. He doesn't watch crime shows, Mike thought, just science fiction. He began nodding, that toy wooden bird again dipping his beak.

“I'm going to have to bring in the hackerati.”

“Hackerati?”

“The aces. Some of those On-High dot org guys.”

“Can we trust them?”

Zack's eyes narrowed. “Pukes don't snitch,” he said.

Mom made her special barbecue chicken for the first time in months and got teary as Tiffany dug in. She wasn't a vegetarian anymore, and the silver hoops were gone from her eyebrows and lips, although Mike thought he could still see the holes. Dad sat back grinning. He loved having the family together.

Sophia, Tiffany, and Scotty took turns talking about their computer classes. Sophia was learning to use one in nursery school, Tiffany was taking information technology courses at a community college, and Scotty was composing chamber music on his laptop. I should introduce them to the Cyber Club, thought Mike. I've got the best computer stories, but I can't tell them here.

“I was so bummed missing you,” said Tiffany. “You should've come by the restaurant.”

Mom said, “When was this?”

“Mike stopped by the apartment a couple of Saturdays ago,” said Tiffany.

“That was so nice,” said Mom. “He never tells us anything.”

“It's the age,” said Tiffany. Suddenly she's so wise and old, thought Mike.

“You heard about Mike winning the Day With Billy,” said Dad. “Billy's website is listing Mike's batting average these days. He's leading the team.”

“Mike's captain-elect,” said Mom.

“I think Sophia inherited Mike's athletic ability,” said Tiffany. “She's a great Wiffle ball player.”

“I hit home runs,” said Sophia.

“She inherited that from me,” said Dad, “not from Mike.”

“Unless there's something we don't know,” said Scotty.

Even Mom laughed.

Tiffany and Mom cleaned up while Dad took Sophia out on the porch for a catch. Mike followed Scotty outside so he could smoke.

“Just this week,” he said apologetically, lighting up. “Calms me down.”

“Must be a big competition,” said Mike.

“Biggest in Europe for student string ensembles,” said Scotty. “Doing well can lead to grants, jobs.”

“Hope you've got a good team,” said Mike. He wondered if that sounded dumb, but he felt a connection with Scotty he hadn't felt before.

“The viola is a little weak, but that's because she hasn't been with us long,” said Scotty seriously. “After a while you just know what everybody else is going to do. You breathe together.” He turned to blow smoke away from Mike. “I guess you're getting along with that fascist coach. What was his name?”

“Cody.” He thought for a moment. Maybe Scotty has an idea. “Can you keep a secret?”

“If it's about New Jersey high school baseball, all Europe will want to know.” He punched Mike's shoulder.

“Something's going down with Coach Cody. He stole a dead guy's identity to get his job.”

“Are you kidding?” Scotty choked on his inhale.

“We got proof.”

“What kind of proof?”

“Documents.”

“What are you going to do?” Scotty looked concerned.

“I don't know. The principal blew me off. The kids who hacked the documents are trying to get more stuff, but they're staying under the radar. They're afraid of him.”

“And you're not?” Scotty shook his head. “This is serious.”

“No shit.” He was beginning to be sorry he had brought it up.

“I mean you could go to jail for this.”

“He could go to jail for this.” He gave it the
CSI
edge.

“You sound like you really want to nail him.”

“I do. He's a bad guy.”

“World is full of them,” said Scotty.

“He messed over my friends.”

“Can't they take care of themselves?”

“Not all of them.” He had a clear mental image of something he had never seen. Kat hanging upside down on her rack to chase the dark away. He wanted to reach out and touch her.

“You better be careful.”

“Thanks.” It came out more sarcastic than he had intended but Scotty let it go.

“What does Dad say?”

“Have I got a deal for you.”

Scotty laughed. “That's the salesman. He's a good guy. Took me a while to see it, but he really cares about us. It's why he works so hard. He was right there with Mom getting Tiff straightened out, and he's really supported my music even though he'd rather I was in the store.” Scotty rubbed out the cigarette on his sole and stuck the butt in his pocket. “Talk to him. You can trust him.”

“Not about this,” said Mike. “It's my problem.”

Mom called them inside for dessert. Sophia was sitting on Dad's lap and Tiffany was wearing some of Mom's costume jewelry. To Mike, everybody looked flushed with contentment. He felt like he was on the other side of a window, looking in. He was glad for them, scared for himself. It's my problem.

He pretended to object when Mom and Dad insisted he stay home and get to sleep while they drove Tiffany, Sophia, and Scotty back to the city. Scotty was going to stay over with a friend before tomorrow's flight to Amsterdam. Mike could use the sleep. Big day tomorrow.

In the driveway Mike hugged Sophia and Tiffany and promised to come visit soon. Scotty pulled Mike's head down and whispered, “Give the old man a chance.”

“Right,” said Mike.

He didn't sleep. He visualized the meeting, Budd-style. He would stride into Cody's office, hard-faced, and before the coach could say anything slap everything Zack's hacker friends had found on his desk.

“I'm giving you a chance to resign and leave the area,” he would say in a
Law & Order
mode. “Otherwise, I go to the FBI.”

He'd be prepared for Coach's sneery grin, maybe even an attempt to push him out of the office. “You drunk, Semak?
You do want to graduate, don't you? Go to college?”

“Not as badly as I want you out of this school,” he'd snap back. “You've got five minutes to leave, Roger Wald.”

The look of terror on Cody's face, the sweat popping out of his shaven skull, was the MVP trophy he had dreamed about.

Mike, you are in some Billy Budd fantasy. Dream on. He's not going to go down that easy.

He felt big and strong and loose in the halls. Tori looked up as he strode through the front office. “Mike!”

He ignored her and opened Cody's door.

Cody was in his friendly position, perched on a corner of his desk, talking to Nick, who was sitting in a straight chair. That makes sense. The mole. They looked startled as he burst in.

Don't lose the advantage.

Cody slipped off his desk into a defensive posture, balanced on the soles of his feet, open hands waist high. Mike thought of a cage fighter. “Captain Mike! Just the man I always want to see. Thanks for stopping by, Nick—you can go now.”

Nick got up. “I'll check back later, Mr. Cody.”

“It's Mr. Wald,” said Mike. He felt warm, zoned. “His real name is Roger Wald. Stick around, Nick, the FBI is
going to be interested in you, too.”

Cody laughed. “Don't tell me you got caught in that scam, too, Mike. It's old news. Must be Zack the Hack. Look, I don't want to press criminal and civil charges against Berger and his family, but if this keeps cropping up I'll have no choice. And against you, too.”

Mike dropped a sheaf of papers on Cody's desk. “Then there's the emails between you and the
buscones
. We had to get some of them translated. I was surprised you were getting a piece of the action if any of their players got pro contracts.”

Cody snatched the papers, began tearing them up. “I'm doing you a favor, Mike. You could go to jail for this.”

“Unless I get a whistleblower's reward from Homeland Security. Falsifying information on the status of an immigrant is pretty serious.”

“Don't try to bluff me,” said Cody.

Nick hadn't left. He said, “Those geeks can put anything all over the world in a minute.”

Cody said to Mike, “What do you want?”

“I want you gone.”

Cody's big muscles went into tremors under his white shirt. “What's this about? That nutty slut you hooked up with?”

BillyBuddBillyBuddBillyBudd
. He was surprised to be
hearing that name in his head. Why not? It was Billy who got me this far. “You messed over a lot of people in this school.”

“I kept this school secure.”

“From what?”

“You stupid punk,” said Cody. “Good men die so you and your candy-ass friends can play ball, screw your brains out, repeat any kind of dumb bullshit that makes you feel hip. It's a mean world out there, gangbangers and drug pushers and terrorists, and I've kept them out of this school. Kept you safe.”

“Kept us under your thumb.”

“Who told you that? Your big-mouth pal Andy Baughman who sent Oscar Ramirez and his dad back to the Dominican Republic?”

Nick snickered. Cody shot him a triumphant look and rocked back on his heels.

“It doesn't take much pressure to make losers fold. Zack and those pukes settled pretty fast, your head case Tigerbitch couldn't wait to run away, and you were all set to snitch, weren't you?”

I don't know, Mike thought. He remembered how numb and nervous he had felt that Monday morning, unsure what he was going to say if Cody pulled him out of class to grill him about the Saturday trip into the city with the Cyber Club. Was he set to snitch? He never
found out. Nick beat him to it.

Cody bellowed, “I said, ‘weren't you?'”

Cody seemed to grow taller, expand, loom over him. The office was hot, it was hard to breathe. He felt small and weak. What made him think he could pull this off? Should have listened to Andy:
“He won. Leave it alone.”

“You better leave now,” said Cody. “Before I press charges. You plan on coming back to school, you better bring your dad along.” He snickered. “Mister Dealmaker.”

“Mister Dealmaker. I like that. Might put it up in the store.”

Mike whirled. Dad was standing in the doorway, smiling, hands in his pockets. He looked relaxed. Cool. Behind him, Tori and the office staff were trying to peer over his broad shoulders.

“What the hell you want?”

Dad's hands came out of his pockets, opened, palms up, so here's the deal. “Thought I could help out before anyone has to go to the police. Of course, for all I know, identity theft, impersonation, lying on federal documents, could be matters for the FBI, Homeland Security. I'm just a flooring salesman.”

Nick was on his hands and knees, looking at the papers Cody had torn and thrown on the floor. “There are official files here.”

“They hacked it,” said Cody. “People are afraid of nukes
in suitcases. They should be scared shitless of pukes online.” His eyes were wild. “The next terrorist strike is going to come from cyberspace, shutting down everything, light, heat, air traffic, defense systems…”

Nick was waving the torn papers. “This true?” The web on his neck seemed to be quivering.

“It's true,” said Mike. “He's a con man.”

“Conned me, too,” said Nick. He was almost babbling. “Promised to keep me out of jail if I snitched for him.”

“You little junkie,” yelled Cody, aiming a kick at Nick, who scrambled out of the way. “I'll have you back in juvenile hall for knocking Mike off his bike.”

“What was that about?” said Dad.

“I'm sorry, Mike,” said Nick, “I was trying to cover my ass, make the pukes think it was you ratted them out.”

“Endangering minors,” said Dad. “That's for the local cops. The chief's my customer. You're done here, Cody.”

Cody said, “You're making a big mistake, Semak. Your kid'll go down with this.”

“You heard my dad,” said Mike. He felt big and hard. “You're done.”

Cody turned on Mike. “I put you on the varsity, Semak.” He was sweating. “I put you in center field. Made you the captain. Why are you doing this to me?”

Mike thought, Because it's what I thought Billy Budd would do. Is that a reason?

“What's going on here?” Dr. Howard had pushed past Dad into the room.

“I'm not going to let them turn this school into a circus.” Cody stuffed papers into a briefcase. “But you can bet I'll be back and you will all be in the worst trouble of your life.”

Mike got out of his way as Cody charged through the office, shouldering past Dr. Howard and Dad, out his door, scattering the staff.

Mike felt exhausted. A little scared. What's next?

“How about some breakfast?” said Dad. “Didn't get a chance this morning.” He was smiling, rubbing his hands together.

Mike was glad to see Dad's hands were trembling, too.

BOOK: Center Field
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