“Runner’s coming home, coming home, coming home! There’s a throw to the plate. Come on, Mir!” I shouted.

Mir reared back and gave it all he had. All the other players in our noontime game were imaginary.

“Out! Yes! We’ve got an all-star outfielder right here!”

Mir’s face shone. Every buck I had spent on a small left-hander’s glove was worth it. After discussing the situation with Top and CL, I had bought the glove, and then pulled Mir from Monday’s lunch period to field some balls. I hoped to boost his confidence by helping him do what he did best; that would make everything else a little easier for him.

We had been playing hard for thirty-five minutes. I glanced up the sky and beckoned him in. The wind was picking up and there was just a scrape of blue left in the northeast.

“Please,” Mir begged, “one more fly ball.”

I walloped the ball and watched him race across the field. He was fast as a cat and every bit as graceful. I’d never seen a little kid with so much ability.

“Please, Miss Goddess Coachie, one more,” he called to me again.

I shook my head. “I promised the big boss you’d eat lunch.”

He stood out in the field for a moment, his short legs planted firmly, pounding his fist in his glove – the first bit of resistance I had seen in Mir.

“Come on, kiddo. It’s going to rain.”

He trudged in slowly. I opened up our bag of peanut butter sandwiches, and napkins flew up in our faces. Mir sat close to me on the bleachers, gobbling up the squishy bread till the crust wrapped like a smile around his face. He put It down and reached for another half sandwich.

“You know, Mir, eating might be easier if you took off your gloves.”

He looked up at me, his dark eyes searching mine to see if I really meant it, and then he smiled and kept the glove on.

“How come you don’t get mad at me when I mess up?” he asked, his mouth full.

“Get mad? Why should I?” I replied. “I mess up all the time. Everybody does. Nobody wants to, but everybody does.”

“Kwanghee doesn’t,” Mir said firmly.

“Who’s Kwanghee?”

“A boyfriend,” he said.

“Your mother’s?”

He nodded.

“Do you like Kwanghee?” I asked.

Mir turned away from me. “Mm-hmm.”

I didn’t believe him. “Does he live with you?”

“Sometimes. Where do you live?” Mir asked. “Do you have a backyard?”

“About three miles from here. Yes, I have a backyard.”

“Do you live near Mr.Jae?” he wondered.

“Mr.Jae lives near the golf course, the place where we all go swimming.”

He the peanut butter off his finger. “I wish I could live with Mr. Jae.”

“You want to take up golf?” I joked.

“He’s nice,” Mir said simply.

I nodded and hoped we wouldn’t have to talk too much about Jae. I had thought about him enough yesterday and had carefully avoided him all morning. Then Mir had provided me a welcome escape from lunch with him and CL.

“He says things that make me feel good inside.”

“Does he,” I said softly.

“Sometimes he plays his guitar for us. And he tells us stories, lots of them about magic. I think he believes in it. I almost believe. Do you?”

“I used to,” I said, slipping my sandwich back in the plastic bag.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked.

“Guess not. I ate a lot of brownies over the weekend,” I told him.

“Yeah? Any in here?” He reached into the paper bag.

“Just cookies.”

“That’s okay.” He smiled, and then lifted his arm suddenly, pointing with the bag still in his hand. “Hey, there’s Mr. Jae.”

I looked quickly over my shoulder.

“Who’s that?” Mir asked. “Who’s that girl with him?”

A friend of Mr.Jae’s. Her name is Jessica.

Why didn’t I say she was my friend too?

Mir and I watched the two of them as they walked along a path that skirted the field. I doubted that they had seen us – they were probably too engrossed in each other.

“Is she a girlfriend?”

“Looks like it,” I said.

“Hey, Mr…”

“Shhh! Don’t call him. He’s talking with his friend.”

What if he kissed his friend? I thought. It would serve Jae right if his second-graders stopped painting pictures of the crazy counselor and started painting him making out with Jessica.

Jessica and Jay disappeared behind a tree – cripe, they spent enough time behind bushes and trees, I thought – but really the path just wound that way, in the direction of the building where Jessica took dance lessons. A few moments later Jae emerged, apparently having parted with Jessica walking alone in our direction.

“Hey, Mr.Jae! Hey, look! Look what Ms. Goddess Coachie found for m