J E N N Y M A N Z E R
14
“Now throw a rock at me,” said Hank, holding
the baguette like a bat.
“What?”
“Not at me, but like a pitch.”
I picked up a smooth stone from the ground and
lobbed it underhand at Hank. He swung at it, lips
pursed in concentration. He missed it. He wasn’t
even close. J.R.’s ears perked up, his shiny eyes fixed
on the bread.
“See that?” Hank said.
“See what? You missed it.”
“But my cut, man, my swing.”
“Maybe they should call you Swinger Hank
then,” I suggested. This kid was weird, going all
braggy-pants when he really couldn’t hit.
“Look,” said Hank, tossing the bread into the
wire wastebasket by the bench. He made that play
at least. Maybe he was better at basketball. “I’m
willing to let you be on my crew, but I need to know
one thing.”
I waited. Hank had a crew?
“Do you like the Texas Rangers?”
“I
detest
the Texas Rangers,” I said. Nana
Cadman says the key to relationships is honesty.
A Texas Ranger pitcher once grabbed a Blue Jays
rally towel at a Toronto game and pretended to use
