Kimchi & Calamari(17)

Our team won 7–2. Kelly brought in two runs in the top of the seventh with a triple to right field. I stood outside the exit of the locker room afterward, ready to ask her out. Yongsu hovered nearby, waiting for his sister. He was doing yo-yo tricks like Walk the Dog and Around the World, and even got the yo-yo to land in his palm.

Kelly’s parents were talking to Coach Durrey. Mrs. Gerken had diamond earrings as big as peanut M&M’s, and the shine on Mr. Gerken’s shoes was visible from ten feet away. And even I could tell the peach fuzz on his head was probably from an anti-balding drug.

Dad’s bald spot is double the size of Mr. Gerken’s, but the only thing he puts on it is sunscreen.

Watching them, I wondered what they’d think about me if I walked into their mansion with Kelly. Maybe they’d recognize the name Calderaro and realize I was a window washer’s son.

Nah, they wouldn’t get the Calderaro connection. I bet they’d never talked to a kid who looked like me before, except maybe someone washing dishes in one of their restaurants.

I was starting to get antsy when Robyn and a couple of other band kids appeared, swinging their instrument cases. They shouted for me to come over—they were tossing a water balloon around—but I said I couldn’t. I had business to attend to. Then Yongsu’s sister came out, her arms full of books. Yongsu ran toward her.

“Ok-hee, this is Joseph, my friend I’ve been talking about,” he said.

She nodded and looked me up and down. Like mother, like daughter. Nothing about Ok-hee suggested she’d been Flushing’s Miss Congeniality.

“Is Coach Durrey going to let you play in the next game?” I asked.

“I need a full week of practices,” she answered coolly.

“Good luck.” I gestured like I was swinging a bat. “New Jersey pitchers try to get you to swing at wild balls, but you just need to hold your ground.”

She looked at me like I was a moron. What, did you have to be a major-league coach before you could offer advice?

Ok-hee dropped a book as she walked away. I picked it up and recognized the title: A Spell for Chameleon.

“That’s the best of the Xanth series,” I said. “Did you get to the part where Bink meets up with Evil Magician Trent?”

She gave me a doubting glare like she didn’t expect anyone with below a Mensa IQ to read anything but easy readers. Yongsu shrugged like he was used to his sister’s moods and waved good-bye cheerfully.

Watching Yongsu and Ok-hee walk away got me wondering again. Maybe I had a snooty know-it-all sister in Korea who was a foot taller than me. Maybe I had a couple of brothers and sisters. Now I wanted to know if I did. I really wanted to know. And not just for a social studies essay, either.

Another five minutes passed and I almost left too, because I figured Dad was waiting to pick me up and getting grouchy. But finally Kelly came out of the locker room. She’d pitched five tough innings and still looked like a model. Wow.

I intercepted her before she reached her parents. “Awesome triple, Miss MVP!” I called.

“Thanks, Joseph.” She flashed a grin.

Her smile sent me soaring. Go for it, Joseph. I pumped myself up. “I was wondering if you wanted to go to the movies tomorrow,” I began. I couldn’t stop now. “Maybe we can get some pizza afterward. At Dom’s across from the CinemaPlex. We could walk there.”

She didn’t look horrified. A good sign.

“Dom’s has free soda refills and the best Sicilian pizza in New Jersey,” I added.

“I like regular pizza.”

“Their regular pizza is twice as good as their Sicilian. Trust me, my record is five pieces.”

She laughed. Then Mr. Gerken called her. He sounded like he was in a hurry.

“I’ve got a softball lesson tomorrow. How about Sunday?” she asked.

“Lucky for you I’ve had a cancellation. I’m available on Sunday, say twelve thirty?” I had no idea what movie would be playing, but it didn’t matter. Even a Disney cartoon would do.

“Sounds good. I’ll meet you at the CinemaPlex then,” she said as she flung her hot pink gym bag over her shoulder and walked off.

I waited until the Gerkens’ car drove off before letting loose with “Woo-hoo, I’m the man!” Then I danced a touchdown dance in the parking lot, just as Dad’s truck pulled up.





Run, Grandpa, Run




Peck, peck, peck, peck.

My fingers hacked away at the keyboard Saturday night. I clicked the mouse to check the word count: 1295. Roughly two hundred words away from the essay finish line. And just in time, too. It was due Monday, but tomorrow was my movie date with Kelly.