Switcharound

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Authors: Lois Lowry
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she said. "I'll coach."

12
    The phone rang late in the evening as Lillian and Caroline sat nervously in the family room pretending to be interested in a rerun of "Charles in Charge."
    "It's for you, Caroline," Lillian said after she had talked for a moment. "It's J.P., and he says everything's turning out just the way he thought it would. Does that mean we're okay? I can't understand any of this."
    Caroline nodded happily as she went to the phone in the kitchen. She felt very relieved for Lillian and her father. "I don't understand any of it either," she said. "Not the computer stuff, anyway. But if J.P. says it's all okay, well, then it's all okay. J.P. is a genius."
    She picked up the receiver. "Hi, J.P.," she said, laughing. "I hope you didn't hear what I just said to Lillian. It would make you conceited."
    "Is Lillian right there?" J.P. asked in a low voice. "I don't want her to hear this conversation."
    Caroline glanced into the family room. Lillian had picked up some knitting. Then she cocked her head slightly, listening to something: a wail from the bedroom where the babies were. She put the knitting down and disappeared down the hall to check the twins.
    "No," Caroline told her brother. "I'm all alone. Why? I thought everything was okay."
    "It is," J.P. said. "But I'm going to be here most of the night, though, unraveling all of this. I want you to take over baseball practice in the morning if you can."
    "Sure. I already told Pooch that I would. No sweat. Lillian's going to stay home with the babies. One of them has a fever. And anyway, if things are okay at the store, and Herbie's not bankrupt after all—"
    "He isn't," J.P. said. "The money's all there. It was in the data base, but the report maker was sabotaged, like I thought."
    "Well then. Lillian can quit the real estate course!"
    "I want you to sneak into my room," J.P. said. "Don't wake Pooch up. Get my notebook out of my suitcase—it's under some of my electronic stuff."
    "Okay. Why?"
    "You'll need it for baseball practice. Listen, Caroline—Dad's coming, so I have to say this fast—"
    "What?"
    J.P. was whispering. "
Undo
it. Everything in the notebook. You'll see when you look at it. Undo my revenge. Tomorrow's the last possible chance.
    "I gotta go," he said suddenly. "Good luck."
    And J.P. hung up the telephone.

    Caroline walked with Poochie to the ball field in the morning. It was very relaxing, not feeding babies and changing babies and bathing babies. Back at the house, Lillian was doing all of that. Even the fussing and feverish baby seemed to notice the difference and was in a better mood now that her mother had taken over.
    Caroline flipped through the pages of J.P.'s notebook as she walked.
    "Poochie," she said, "I'm going to make some changes this morning, since I'm coaching."
    Poochie nodded happily. "Now I'll get some hits," he said. "J.P. didn't know that I—"
    Caroline interrupted him. "Things will be different now," she said.
    J.P.'s revenge had been truly rotten. But she didn't want Poochie to know about it, ever. At least she was going to undo it. Her own revenge had been not only rotten but was also undoable; and she could only hope that no one would ever find out about it.
    She flipped through the pages of the notebook again. As soon as practice was over this morning, she would destroy the incriminating pages. But for now, she needed them.
    Each page held a player's name. And then it listed all that player's baseball-playing flaws. She had to give J.P. credit; he wasn't much of an athlete or a coach, but he certainly was observant. He had noticed the smallest details of each little player's baseball style. Then he had planned the big game tomorrow to take maximum advantage of every single flaw.
    He had programmed the Tater Chips to lose. He couldn't have done it more effectively if he had used a computer.
    Turning back to the page marked "Poochie," she realized that J.P. had already noticed the same things that she had.

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