Strikeout of the Bleacher Weenies by David Lubar

wonder what it will be like when I go back in time,” Toby said.
    â€œ When you go?” I said. “You’re not really planning to risk that, are you? You’re lucky going into the future didn’t mess you up.”
    â€œI have to try it,” he said.
    â€œLook, going forward didn’t do anything bad. But, think about it, going back could make all sorts of weird stuff happen. You’ve already been there.”
    His face got this blank look, like he was so deeply lost in thought that he might as well already have sent his brain back in time. “Yeah … it’s deep. I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
    â€œI don’t think this is a good idea,” I said.
    Toby flashed me a grin. “I never said it was. But I have to see what happens. Someone had to be the first man in space. Someone had to be the first to try a vaccine or test out a parachute. Someone has to be the first to go back in time.”
    Before I could come up with any sort of argument, Toby grabbed another time grenade from the box, gave the stem a twist in the other direction, then pushed the top in with his thumb.
    I flinched at the click. Toby didn’t vanish. But we looked at each other, both silent as we digested what had just happened.
    â€œCool…” Toby finally said.
    â€œWeird,” I said.
    It was definitely weird. And hard to describe. Toby had gone back in time. But he’d gone back to where he already was. And where I was. So, all of a sudden, I had a memory of there being two Tobys with me for a little bit. The second Toby—the one who’d traveled back in time—had popped up maybe ten seconds ago. He’d looked at us, flashed the typical Toby smile, and said, “Awesome. I figured it would be like this. I won’t be here for long.”
    Then, he’d vanished just when Toby number one sent himself back in time.
    â€œWow,” I said, “that was amazing, but you really took a big risk.”
    â€œWorth it,” Toby said.
    â€œWhat if you’d stopped yourself from sending yourself back?” I asked. That was just one of the dozens of questions that shot through my mind. “Then, there’d still be two of you here,” I said.
    â€œMaybe I should try that,” he said.
    â€œMaybe you shouldn’t,” I said. “You’ve been pretty lucky so far.”
    â€œYou’re right. But there’s one other thing to try right now. I want to go back at the same time you go forward.”
    He set two time grenades, one for the past and the other for the future, matching the symbols, though one was blue and one was green.
    â€œThat sounds even more dangerous,” I said.
    â€œIt will be the greatest thing ever,” he said, holding one of the grenades out to me.
    â€œWhat will be great?”
    We both spun toward the voice. Oh no. Rooney had found us. He’d probably heard me when I’d been screaming for Toby right after he’d vanished.
    â€œNothing,” Toby said, dropping his hands to his sides. “We’re just fooling around.”
    â€œGive me those,” Rooney said. He took a menacing step toward Toby.
    Toby looked like he was going to argue, but when Rooney clenched a fist, Toby sighed and handed over the time grenades. “Be careful,” he said.
    â€œDon’t tell me what to do.” Rooney held up the two grenades, one in each hand, with his thumbs on the stems. “Is this some kind of game?” he asked.
    â€œStink bombs,” I said, blurting out the first thing I could think of that might make him drop them.
    â€œSweet,” Rooney said. “Let’s stink up the woods.” He pressed his thumbs down on both buttons.
    â€œNo!” Toby shouted. He reached out to try to snatch the time grenades away. But it was too late.
    Rooney traveled to the past and the future at the same time. Unfortunately, he also occupied all of the time