The Contract
Chapter One
A DREAM IS BORN
“Jeter, the rookie from Kalamazoo, takes a lead off second after his double. . . . There’s a line single to right, Jeter comes around third, he’s racing for the plate. . . . Here’s the throw. . . . Derek Jeter slides under the tag and he is . . . SAFE! The Yankees win the World Series! Holy Cow! Derek Jeter, the kid who came out of nowhere, has helped the Bombers return to glory! Listen to that crowd roaring his name . . . Der-ek . . . Je-ter!”
“Derek! Derek Jeter! Are you with us?”
Derek’s third-grade teacher, Ms. Wagner, was staring down at him, frowning. Behind her the whole class erupted in laughter. Derek woke from his daydream into an instant nightmare. He sat up straight and said, “I was listening, Ms. Wagner! I really was!”
“Well, then maybe you can repeat what I said—for anyone in the class who wasn’t listening.”
Yikes! He was really stuck now. What was he going to say? The awful truth was that his mind had been miles away—at Yankee Stadium for the Fall Classic, not here in Room 212 of Saint Augustine Elementary School in the middle of April.
Ms. Wagner’s frown curled into a smile. Before Derek embarrassed himself any further, she added, “Never mind. This is an important assignment, class. So let me repeat it again, just so everyone gets it. Tonight’s homework is a two-page essay entitled ‘My Dreams for the Future.’”
A wave of giggling came from somewhere behind the teacher. For some reason a few of the students thought the topic was hilarious.
Ms. Wagner’s smile morphed back into a frown. “I want you all to take this seriously, now. You have the whole weekend to think about it. Don’t just write something silly—that you want to grow up to be Luke Skywalker or Tina Turner. I want to know your real dreams, the ones you could actually make come true.”
“Ooo! Ooo!” Jamali Winston said, raising her hand and waving it frantically.
“Yes, Jamali?”
“What if we’re not sure what we want to be?”
“You don’t have to be sure about anything. This essay is your chance to think about your future and come up with some goals.”
Derek wrote down the assignment, smiling. This was going to be easy! He knew what he wanted to be—a big-league baseball player. He’d wanted to be one ever since he was . . . well, even before he could remember.
The bell rang. Derek grabbed his things and stuffed them into his book bag. He threw on his coat. It was still pretty wintry in Kalamazoo, Michigan—which was not unusual for mid-April. Piles of leftover dirty snow were still on the ground from a blizzard they’d had two weeks before. And more snow showers were expected for tomorrow.
Derek sure hoped it got warmer soon, because Little League season was about to start. He sped down the hall toward the exit doors, dodging slower kids like he was running back a kickoff.
“Hey, Derek!” came a familiar voice from behind him. “Where are you running to?”
Derek turned and smiled. “Hey, Vijay. How’s it going?” The two boys high-fived.
“Excellent, as always. Little League next week! You ready for some baseball?”
Vijay Patel had started playing ball with Derek and the other kids as soon as his family had moved into Mount Royal Townhouses. Vijay’s parents were from India. They both loved cricket, but because Vijay had grown up here in the United States, he had become a big baseball fan.
The only problem was, he wasn’t exactly a natural athlete. At first he hadn’t been able to figure out which leg went forward when you threw the ball. Derek had helped him straighten that part out at least. From then on, Vijay had been his devoted friend, and Derek took pride in Vijay’s improvement. On the night of the Little League tryouts in February, Derek had even given Vijay one of his Yankees sweatshirts so he wouldn’t look so out of place—Vijay was wearing a jack-o’-lantern sweatshirt at the time.