Mrs. Craig nodded. “I’m afraid so, Jack.”
Jack grimaced. “I’m sick of that old bed!”
After Jack had been settled in his room, Tommy and Mrs. Craig came downstairs together. Tommy turned to his mother, puzzled.
“What’s with him?” he asked. “For months he lies there and doesn’t make a peep. Now all of a sudden he gets dopey and cross.”
Mrs. Craig laughed. “And I don’t blame him. As long as he knew he was sick, he just grinned and took it. Now he knows he’s well again and he’s impatient to be up leading a normal life.”
“Yeah,” Tommy said thoughtfully. “Gee, I sure wish he could see the game!”
Mrs. Craig patted her son’s head. “There will be lots of ballgames.” She sighed heavily. “Aren’t you supposed to be practicing for the game? I have a million things to do today, and I don’t want you underfoot.”
“You don’t practice for a ballgame the day you play it,” Tommy explained. “You just warm up.”
His mother smiled. “Then run along and warm up. Scat!”
Tommy grinned and made a dash for the door. He turned and called, “Keep your fingers crossed for us. Don’t forget!”