"You did," he said.Today Is Eddie's Birthday
He is seven years old and his gift is a new baseball. He squeezes it in
each hand, feeling a surge of power that runs up his arms. He
imagines he is one of his heroes on the Cracker Jack collector cards,
maybe the great pitcher Walter Johnson.
"Here, toss it," his brother, Joe, says.
They are running along the midway, past the game booth where, if
you knock over three green bottles, you win a coconut and a straw.
"Come on, Eddie," Joe says. "Share."
Eddie stops, and imagines himself in a stadium. He throws the ball.
His brother pulls in his elbows and ducks.
"Too hard!" Joe yells.
"My ball!" Eddie screams. "Dang you, Joe."
Eddie watches it thump down the boardwalk and bang off a post
into a small clearing behind the sideshow tents. He runs after it. Joe
follows. They drop to the ground.
"You see it?" Eddie says.
"Nuh-uh."
A whumping noise interrupts them. A tent flap opens. Eddie and Joe
look up. There is a grossly fat woman and a shirtless man with reddish
hair covering his entire body. Freaks from the freak show.
The children freeze.
"What are you wiseacres doin' back, here?" the hairy man says,
grinning. "Lookin' for trouble?"
Joe's lip trembles. He starts to cry. He jumps up and runs away, his
arms pumping wildly. Eddie rises, too, then sees his ball against a
sawhorse. He eyes the shirtless man and moves slowly toward it.
"This is mine," he mumbles. He scoops up the ball and runs after his
brother.