Baseball on Hot Summer Days

The summer that I was seven was the hottest one on record. Days were spent inside, or under the shade of the porch. Only in the early evenings, when the sun was no longer frying us, were we allowed to play in the front yard or with the neighbourhood kids - and even then, we had to wear hats and be doused with bug spray.
         After one especially hazy afternoon, my older brother Nathan and I went to the park to play baseball with some of our friends.
         "So, you actually gonna hit the ball today, Squirt?" he asked me as we walked down the middle of the gravel road.
         "Stop it! I can hit the ball. And my name's not 'Squirt.' It's Liz."
         "Watch out, Squirt. Car's coming."
         I let out a frustrated scream as the car passed. The driver slowed to a stop and rolled down his window.
         "Everything okay, guys?" It was Mr. Lebowitz, Mila and James' dad.
         "It's all good here, Mr. Lebowitz," Nathan said as he elbowed me. "Right, Liz?"
         I glared at Nathan, then stared at my dusty sneakers. "Right," I mumbled.
         As Mr. Lebowitz drove away, I punched Nathan on the shoulder. "You're so mean. Why do you call me Squirt when we're by ourselves or with our friends, but you call me Liz when we're with the grown-ups?"
         "Because it bugs you so much."
         After a few more minutes of cruel brotherly torture, we were at the baseball park. We were the last to show up, and the teams had already been picked.
         "You can be on my team," Mila told me. "We'll put Nathan on James' team." Mila and James were always captains, because they were the oldest (they were twelve year old twins).
         Mila flipped a coin, and we were first up to bat. I don't like to bat, so I went to the back of the line. If I was lucky, we'd get three outs before I had to go.
         No such luck. Everyone was playing really well tonight. Only Michael and Lily struck out.
         The bases were loaded as I stepped up to bat. Nathan was pitcher (he's always pitcher - he's the best in our neighbourhood). Nerves took over as I hit my bat on the ground, once, twice, three times. I shouldered my bat and stared at Nathan.
         "Bring it on," I yelled, trying to hide my fear.
         Nathan pitched, I swung. The ball went right into Annie's glove.
         "STEE-RIKE ONE!" called Leo.
         Nathan sneered at me as he wound up for the second pitch. I stuck my tongue out at him - and didn't realize he'd let go of the ball.
         "STEE-RIKE TWO!"
         I planted my feet underneath me as I kept my eyes on Nathan. I was going to do it, I thought to myself. I was going to hit it.
         Everything went into slow-motion. Nathan wound up, and I watched the ball come toward me. I swung with all of my might.
         I connected. With a satisfying crack, the ball went towards left field, above Jason's head, and over the trees and onto the road.
         "Go!" Mila yelled from her spot on the bench. "Run, Liz!"
         Now, I may not be much of a hitter, but I am a real fast runner. Even though I'd hit a home run, I still sprinted around the bases, sliding into home plate before Nathan collected the bottom of his jaw of the ground.
         We continued playing for another hour. My team won 16-12.
         "Did you see that Nathan?" I taunted as we walked out of the park. "Did you see that? I hit a home run. Have you ever hit a home run? No, didn't think so. I'm better than you are, I'm better than you are-"
         "Shut up, Squirt," he snapped. "It was a fluke."
         "It was not! And my name is LIZ!"
         "Look at that, Squirt," Nathan pointed toward a car at the side of the road.
         "You're just trying to change the subject," I taunted. "You don't want to admit that I'm better than you!"
         "No, seriously, look," he said as he walked over to the car. "Somebody broke the wind- Oh no!"
         "What is it?" I asked as I joined him. All Nathan could do was point. As my eyes followed his gaze, my blood ran cold with a mixture of fear and dread. I was so dead.
         There, sitting in the middle of a bunch of broken glass on the passenger side seat, was my baseball.