“Too cheap. And the more you do the worse they treat you. I helped them a couple times when I was little, and one time they walked right into the back of our house and dragged me out of my bedroom in my nightie to help them get a stain out of a linen tablecloth. They made me stand on a stool and pour boiling water from this really heavy kettle onto the stain from as high as I could get. Jeez, I burned myself so badly. My mom went over there—I guess she speaks some Russian—and told them if they ever came near me again she’d smash their precious horse.”

Raj hurried a little way ahead of her and wiggled his butt. “You like it, the way my rumps move?”

“Makes me think of ocean,” she called.

Ten minutes later they joined the long line at the entrance to the county fairgrounds, which wasn’t due to open for another half hour. They were right behind Aaron, Walter, and Seamus. The Olsens, who were with Widow Snyder, were just behind them, Mrs. Olsen hugely pregnant with her sixth child. The others stood beside her, from oldest to youngest, like Russian dolls, each one a slightly smaller replica of the last, two boys and three girls, with white-blond hair and eerily sad blue eyes. At the far end of the field, Tad Messinger was hitting fly balls for his own three sons. He once played Triple-A and wanted his boys to make it to the majors.

Annie glanced toward Seamus, who kicked at the dirt. He had never really apologized for hitting her. Aaron and Walter looked sheepish also.

Finally Raj broke the silence, pointing toward the Messingers. “So what do you have to do in that game, then? Just hit the ball?”

“Ain’t you never seen baseball?” Seamus said.

“We have cricket in England. Bigger bat. Games take years sometimes.”

“Years?” Aaron said.

Raj nodded. “And it’s always a draw.”

The three boys looked confused. “Sounds dumb,” Seamus said.

Annie wished Raj would stop saying things like this. The boys were trying to figure out how he was different and how he was the same, and he wasn’t really giving them much to hold on to.

“Annie’s brother was really good at sports,” Seamus said. He was clearly trying to make friends again. Annie had heard about what had happened with Cal in the pool hall and felt awful.

Suddenly, someone shouted, “Incoming.”

Tad Messinger, showing off to his sons, had hit a huge line drive. It was flying toward Mrs. Olsen, who shrieked, closing her eyes and covering her belly. The ball would have hit her, but Raj casually put out his hand, which the ball struck with a loud smack. The little bomb crater of ducking people filled in again as Raj held the ball out curiously in front of him.

After a thoughtful moment, he said, “Ouch.”