Catcher with a Glass Arm by Matt Christopher Page B

gate.
    “Meowrrrr!”
    Jody grinned. “Hi, Midnight,” he greeted. “Come to meet me, did you?”
    The black cat rubbed up against Jody’s leg, and Jody bent down to pet it. Midnightwas really a wonderful pet. He tagged after Jody almost everywhere Jody went. And Jody loved him. He probably loved Midnight
     as much as he did baseball.
    He found Rabbit and Birdie waiting for him too, and they all walked home together.
    Rabbit talked a blue streak most of the time, hardly giving Birdie or Jody a chance to squeeze in a word. But that was Rabbit
     for you. Jody liked him a lot.
    Then Rabbit said, “Gets me why you can’t throw that ball to second, Jody. Boy! Would I like to have tagged that one kid. He
     runs like a streak, but we’d have had him if you’d thrown the ball at the bag.”
    “I know,” admitted Jody. “But I can’t. That’s all there is to it. I just can’t.”
    He suddenly remembered what a Tigers player had said—glass arm.
    “Moonie was real sore,” said Birdie. “Maybe he won’t pitch any more.”
    Jody’s mouth dropped. “Why not?”
    Birdie shrugged. “Oh. You know how he is.”
    Jody pressed his lips together. Yes, he knew how Moonie was. But it was
him
Moonie was sore at.

3
    T he sun was blazing overhead just before noon Saturday as the blue car zipped along Route 4. In the front seat were Mom and
     Dad Sinclair. In back were Jody, his sister, Diane, Rabbit Foote, and, of course, Midnight. They were going on a picnic.
    It wasn’t going to be just an ordinary picnic, though. Dad had plans. As a matter of fact, it was his idea to have Rabbit
     come along.
    Jody didn’t know what those plans could be. Dad had suggested that they bring along a bat, baseball, and some baseball gloves.That was strange since Dad, a real golf bug, had his bag of clubs in the trunk with the food.
    Lincoln Park was thirteen miles away from home. It was a beautiful green spot with hills protecting it on all sides. There
     were picnic tables sheltered underneath trees and along the hillsides. There was a large swimming pool already dotted with
     swimmers. There was a softball diamond, and plenty of room to drive a baseball a mile.
    There were already golfers practicing on long and short putts. That was what Dad liked to do, too.
    Dad parked the car. Jody and Rabbit found a vacant table nearby.
    Dad asked, “Do you kids want to go swimming until lunch is ready?”
    “Okay by me,” said Rabbit.
    The boys ran to the bathhouse with their trunks. At their heels raced Midnight, his black tail high in the air. The boys got
     into their trunks and then dived off a low diving board into the cool, clean pool.
    It was almost half an hour later when Diane came after them. From the edge of the pool she cupped her hands to her mouth and
     shouted:
    “Jody! Rabbit! Come and get i-i-i-it! You, too, Midnight!” she added.
    The boys climbed out of the pool and walked to the picnic table, water dripping off their bodies. Diane tossed each a towel,
     and they dried themselves as best as they could. Then they sat and ate. After that they were too full to swim anymore. Anyway,
     they knew they shouldn’t so soon after eating. They went to the bathhouse and dressed.
    “Bet Dad will be out there with his golf clubs,” said Jody as they started out the door.
    “He’s out there, but not with his golf clubs,” observed Rabbit. “He has the bat, ball, and gloves. Guess he wants to give
     us a workout, Jody.”
    “We’re going to have some throwing practice,” said Dad. “Rabbit, take this glove and get down there about where second base
     would be. Jody, put on your mitt. I’ll get halfway between, about where the pitcher’s box would be. I want to see you throw
     that ball, Jody. In those games I’ve seen I can tell that you’re holding back. You’re not throwing that ball at all as you
     should.”
    So that was it,
thought Jody.
And I never even thought he cared how I threw!
    Dad laid the bat aside and threw the