Catching the moon Marcenia Lyle loved baseball. She loved the powdery taste of dust clouds as she slid through them. She loved the way the sun heated her hair as she crouched in the outfield, waiting for fly balls. And she loved the sting in her palm as a baseball slammed into it, right before tagging a runner out. If there was anything in the world better than baseball, Marcenia didn’t know what it was. She dreamed of growing up to be a professional ballplayer, so she could play ball all the time. “I wish I knew why you liked baseball so much.” Mama sighed as she gently washed Marcenia’s hair. Marcenia shrugged. Mama often questioned Marcenia’s interest in baseball, particularly when washing field dirt from her hair. “It’s just fun,” Marcenia said, giving her mother the same response she always did. “Playing dolls is fun,” Mama said. Marcenia blew a puff of lather from her palm. “Not as much fun as baseball.” After Marcenia crawled into bed, Papa appeared in the doorway. “What did you learn in school today?” he asked. “Ummm…” Marcenia thought for a moment. “Some history?” “hmmm”, Papa crossed his arms. “And how did your team do in the game after school?” “Harold got a triple in his first at bat, and Clarence tagged out two runners,” Marcenia said eagerly. “I struck out my first time at the bat, but then I caught a deep fly ball that would have scored the tying run for the other team if I’d missed it. We won, 11-10.” Marcenia’s smile gleamed like the noonday sun as she shared the details of her victory. “We won the game,” Marcenia said once more. “And you also ripped another dress,” Papa said, dismayed. Then he kissed Marcenia’s cheek and turned off the light, leaving her alone with the moonlight and shadows and her dream of becoming a baseball player. The tiny house was still. Marcenia could almost hear her mother’s needle and thread moving through the fabric as she sat at the kitchen table mending Marcenia’s dress. After a while Marcenia heard Papa’s voice. “I wish she would think about school as much as she thinks on baseball.” “She wants to be a ballplayer when she grows up,” Mama said with a sad chuckle. “I just want her to be happy.” “She’ll be what every other girl in this neighborhood will be,” Papa grumbled. “A teacher, a nurse, or …” “A maid,” Mama said softly. “I’m going to score three runs tomorrow,” Marcenia promised the darkness as she clapped her hands over her ears. “I’m going to hit a home run too.” Then next day after school, Marcenia went to the playground. The other girls stayed on the hardtop to play hopscotch, jump rope, or jacks. The boys were huddled at the mound, talking quietly. They cast excited glances at the man who was watching the field from the bleachers. “Do you know who he is?” Harold asked Marcenia as she joined the group. He tipped his head toward the man. “That there is Mr. Gabby Street. He’s running a baseball day camp this summer.” Marcenia knew about Gabby Street. He was the manager for the St. Louis Cardinals. He had led the Cardinals to the National League pennant in 1930, and the Cardinals had topped that the next year by winning the 1931 World Series. “What does he want?” Marcenia asked. “Kids for his baseball camp,” Harold said. “It’s going to be right here on this field every day except Sunday. Sundays are game days.” “What is the cost?” Marcenia asked. “It’s free! It’s free!” said Clarence. “All you need is your own glove and baseball cleats,” Harold added. Marcenia could hardly contain her excitement. She would do anything to be one of the players in Mr. Street’s camp! That afternoon Marcenia played with purpose. She scooped the grounders, them into her body to make sure they didn’t bounce away. She slid into second, keeping so low she wouldn’t be tagged. She kept her eyes on each pitch, waiting for a good one to send over the fence. She scored three runs just like she wanted and hit a homer. When Mr. Street approached the players after the game, Marcenia crowded in close so he could see her.