Read Online Philip and the Girl Who Couldn't Lose (9781619501072) by John Paulits - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John Paulits
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Philip thought. No, he
didn’t want to play something you only needed your thumbs to play.
Who knew how good this girl’s thumbs were?
Jeanne continued. “Can you play ball? Do you
know how? Can you catch and throw?”
Philip laughed. She’d fallen into his trap!
“Can you catch and throw? Don’t worry about me.”
Mrs. Moriarty opened the kitchen door and
leaned out to call to the children. “Everything all right out
here?”
“I’m going to teach Jeanne to play ball,”
Philip said grandly. “Throw and catch.”
“That’s nice. I’m making lunch. I’ll call you
when it’s ready.”
When Philip turned back to Jeanne, she had
already hung her sweatshirt on the back of a metal patio chair.
Philip marched to the other side of the lawn
and turned to face her.
“I’ll throw easy to you in the beginning,”
Jeanne promised.
Philip glared at her. “Just throw the ball,”
he said. He had caught balls—small pink balls—thrown by the older
kids he’d played with today, so he knew Jeanne’s throws would be no
problem. He and Jeanne each took a few steps back.
Jeanne tossed the first ball to him in a
slow, lazy, upside U. Philip watched it approach, stuck out one
hand, and grabbed the ball. “Ha! Real tough throw,” Philip called.
He fired the ball back to Jeanne, but it went crooked. Jeanne ran
four steps to her left and grabbed the bouncing ball; also with one
hand. Philip scowled. Lucky, he told himself.
“Can’t you throw it straight?” she asked, as
she ran back to her position. She threw Philip another slow,
looping toss, and he caught it easily.
“Stop throwing like that,” Philip demanded,
and he tossed a hard one back at her. This throw went straight, and
Jeanne reached out with one hand and grabbed it. She flipped the
ball to her other hand, pulled her arm back, and fired the ball at
Philip, who threw his arms up to keep the ball from hitting him in
the face. He glared at Jeanne before picking up the ball.
“I’m sorry. You told me to stop throwing easy
ones.” A small smile crept onto Jeanne’s face.
“You surprised me is all. Don’t throw easier.
Keep throwing like that,” Philip answered angrily. He retrieved the
ball, pulled his arm back, and threw the ball as hard as he
could. The ball sailed way over Jeanne’s head, hit the wall of the
house, and bounced back toward Jeanne. She leaped and pulled the
ball down.
“A little lower, please,” she said with a
frown. “You can’t throw straight enough to have a catch. Let’s play
a game. Do you know about wall ball? We played wall ball a lot in
my old neighborhood.”
Ha! thought Philip. A real game he
could beat her at. No more of this stupid throwing the ball back
and forth.
“I hit the ball against the wall,” Jeanne
explained. “You have to catch it. If you miss, it’s one run for
me.”
“Okay. I know the game. You don’t have to
explain it,” Philip growled. “We play it in this neighborhood, too,
you know.”
“Oh, good. I’ll bat first,” she explained,
and without waiting for an argument, Jeanne turned to the wall.
Slam! Philip stood amazed as he watched the
pink ball sail over his head.
“1-0,” Jeanne cried gleefully. “Give me the
ball back.”
Philip tossed the ball to Jeanne and backed
up a few steps. Slam! He watched in disgust as the second ball
sailed over his head, too.
“2-0. Hurry up. Go get the ball.”
Philip fetched the ball. He wanted to fire
the ball at her as hard as he could, but didn’t want it to go wild
again and have to listen to Jeanne complain about his throwing. He
gently and politely returned the ball to her. Philip backed way up
as he watched Jeanne eye him thoughtfully as she tossed the ball up
and down in one hand.
“Here comes,” she cried. She spun to the wall
and banged the ball very softly. Philip stood confused and watched
the ball stop rolling before it got to him.
“That’s another run,” she announced.
“3-0.”
“We play it’s only a
didn’t want to play something you only needed your thumbs to play.
Who knew how good this girl’s thumbs were?
Jeanne continued. “Can you play ball? Do you
know how? Can you catch and throw?”
Philip laughed. She’d fallen into his trap!
“Can you catch and throw? Don’t worry about me.”
Mrs. Moriarty opened the kitchen door and
leaned out to call to the children. “Everything all right out
here?”
“I’m going to teach Jeanne to play ball,”
Philip said grandly. “Throw and catch.”
“That’s nice. I’m making lunch. I’ll call you
when it’s ready.”
When Philip turned back to Jeanne, she had
already hung her sweatshirt on the back of a metal patio chair.
Philip marched to the other side of the lawn
and turned to face her.
“I’ll throw easy to you in the beginning,”
Jeanne promised.
Philip glared at her. “Just throw the ball,”
he said. He had caught balls—small pink balls—thrown by the older
kids he’d played with today, so he knew Jeanne’s throws would be no
problem. He and Jeanne each took a few steps back.
Jeanne tossed the first ball to him in a
slow, lazy, upside U. Philip watched it approach, stuck out one
hand, and grabbed the ball. “Ha! Real tough throw,” Philip called.
He fired the ball back to Jeanne, but it went crooked. Jeanne ran
four steps to her left and grabbed the bouncing ball; also with one
hand. Philip scowled. Lucky, he told himself.
“Can’t you throw it straight?” she asked, as
she ran back to her position. She threw Philip another slow,
looping toss, and he caught it easily.
“Stop throwing like that,” Philip demanded,
and he tossed a hard one back at her. This throw went straight, and
Jeanne reached out with one hand and grabbed it. She flipped the
ball to her other hand, pulled her arm back, and fired the ball at
Philip, who threw his arms up to keep the ball from hitting him in
the face. He glared at Jeanne before picking up the ball.
“I’m sorry. You told me to stop throwing easy
ones.” A small smile crept onto Jeanne’s face.
“You surprised me is all. Don’t throw easier.
Keep throwing like that,” Philip answered angrily. He retrieved the
ball, pulled his arm back, and threw the ball as hard as he
could. The ball sailed way over Jeanne’s head, hit the wall of the
house, and bounced back toward Jeanne. She leaped and pulled the
ball down.
“A little lower, please,” she said with a
frown. “You can’t throw straight enough to have a catch. Let’s play
a game. Do you know about wall ball? We played wall ball a lot in
my old neighborhood.”
Ha! thought Philip. A real game he
could beat her at. No more of this stupid throwing the ball back
and forth.
“I hit the ball against the wall,” Jeanne
explained. “You have to catch it. If you miss, it’s one run for
me.”
“Okay. I know the game. You don’t have to
explain it,” Philip growled. “We play it in this neighborhood, too,
you know.”
“Oh, good. I’ll bat first,” she explained,
and without waiting for an argument, Jeanne turned to the wall.
Slam! Philip stood amazed as he watched the
pink ball sail over his head.
“1-0,” Jeanne cried gleefully. “Give me the
ball back.”
Philip tossed the ball to Jeanne and backed
up a few steps. Slam! He watched in disgust as the second ball
sailed over his head, too.
“2-0. Hurry up. Go get the ball.”
Philip fetched the ball. He wanted to fire
the ball at her as hard as he could, but didn’t want it to go wild
again and have to listen to Jeanne complain about his throwing. He
gently and politely returned the ball to her. Philip backed way up
as he watched Jeanne eye him thoughtfully as she tossed the ball up
and down in one hand.
“Here comes,” she cried. She spun to the wall
and banged the ball very softly. Philip stood confused and watched
the ball stop rolling before it got to him.
“That’s another run,” she announced.
“3-0.”
“We play it’s only a
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