“Strike him out, Brian!” the first baseman cried. “You can do it. Evan always strikes out!”
It’s true, Evan thought unhappily. I do usually strike out.
He gripped the little bat tighter, poising it over his shoulder. He suddenly wondered if being so big would make a difference.
Maybe he’d just strike out bigger!
Brian’s next pitch sailed higher. Evan swung hard. The bat hit the softball with a deafening thwack—and cracked in two.
The ball sailed up, up, up. Off the playground. Over the school. And out of sight, somewhere in the next block.
Cheers and cries of amazement rang out over the diamond.
Evan watched the ball fly out of sight. Then he leaped joyfully in the air and began running the bases.
The longest home run in the history of the world!
It took only four steps between bases. He had just rounded second base when he heard the sirens.
Evan turned his eyes to the street in time to see two fire trucks squeal around the corner. The trucks pulled right up onto the playground grass and came roaring toward the softball diamond, sirens blaring.
Evan stopped at third base.
The sirens cut off as the two fire engines skidded to a halt along the first base line.
Evan’s mouth dropped open as Conan Barber leaped out of the first truck. Several black-uniformed firefighters dropped to the ground behind Conan.
“There he is!” Conan cried, pointing furiously at Evan. “That’s him! Get him!”
Grim-faced firefighters began hoisting heavy firehoses off the trucks. Others moved toward Evan, hatchets clutched menacingly in their hands.
“That’s him!” Conan shrieked. “He’s the one who put me in the tree and wrecked my parents’ fence!”
“Huh?” Still standing on third base, Evan froze in shock.
Was this really happening?
The playground rang out with shouts of surprise. But the voices were drowned out by more sirens.
Evan saw flashing red lights. And then two black-and-white police cars roared over the grass, screeching up behind the fire engines.
A man and woman came running behind the police cars. “That’s the one!” they called breathlessly, pointing at Evan. “That’s the one who crushed the car. We saw him do it!”
The firefighters were busily connecting the hoses to hydrants at the curb. Blue-uniformed police swarmed on to the field. The kids on the two softball teams huddled together on the pitcher’s mound. They all seemed dazed and frightened.
“He tried to kill me!” Conan was shouting to a woman police officer. “That giant put me in a tree and left me there!”
“He crushed a car!” a woman screamed.
Evan hadn’t moved from third base. He gazed past the fire engines to Andy and Kermit. They stood near the backstop. Kermit had the dumb, toothy grin on his face.
Andy had her hands cupped around her mouth. She was shouting something to Evan. But he couldn’t hear her over the wail of sirens and the excited shouts and cries of everyone in the playground.
Some of the police and fire officers huddled together, talking rapidly. They kept glancing up at Evan as they talked.
What are they going to do to me? Evan wondered, frozen in fear.
Should I run? Should I try to explain?
More people came hurrying across the playground. As soon as they spotted Evan, their expressions turned to surprise and amazement.
They’re all staring at me, Evan realized. They’re pointing at me as if I’m some kind of freak.
I am some kind of freak! he admitted to himself.
Firefighters formed a line, holding their hatchets waist-high. Others readied the firehoses, aiming them up at Evan’s chest.
Evan heard more sirens. More police cars rolled on to the playground.
A young police officer with wavy red hair and a red mustache stepped up to Evan. “What—is—your—name?” he shouted, speaking each word slowly, as if maybe Evan didn’t speak English.
“Uh … Evan. Evan Ross,” Evan called down.
“Do you come from another planet?” the officer shouted.
“Huh?” Evan couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing.
