The Distance to Home - Hardcover

Bishop, Jenn

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 1101938714 ISBN 13: 9781101938713

Verlag: Knopf Books for Young Readers, 2016

Inhaltsangabe

For fans of Lynda Mullaly Hunt and Rita Williams-Garcia, Jenn Bishop’s heartwarming debut is a celebration of sisterhood and summertime, and of finding the courage to get back in the game.
 
Last summer, Quinnen was the star pitcher of her baseball team, the Panthers. They were headed for the championship, and her loudest supporter at every game was her best friend and older sister, Haley.
 
This summer, everything is different. Haley’s death, at the end of last summer, has left Quinnen and her parents reeling. Without Haley in the stands, Quinnen doesn’t want to play baseball. It seems like nothing can fill the Haley-sized hole in her world. The one glimmer of happiness comes from the Bandits, the local minor-league baseball team. For the first time, Quinnen and her family are hosting one of the players for the season. Without Haley, Quinnen’s not sure it will be any fun, but soon she befriends a few players. With their help, can she make peace with the past and return to the pitcher’s mound?


Winner of the Iowa Association of School Libraries Children's Choice Award

"Recommend this poignant novel to fans of Keeping Score by Linda Sue Park and The Thing About Jellyfish by Ali Benjamin."--School Library Journal 

"A piercing first novel...Bishop insightfully examines the tested relationships among grieving family members and friends in a story of resilience, forgiveness, and hope."--Publishers Weekly

"With appeal to both sports- and drama-minded girls, this will make a good book club selection and pass-it-among-your-friends read."--The Bulletin

"A sensitive, well-wrought novel perfect for both sports lovers and fans
of character-driven stories."--Booklist

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Jenn Bishop is a former youth services and teen librarian. She is a graduate of the University of Chicago, where she studied English, and Vermont College of Fine Arts, where she received her MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults. Along with her husband and cat, Jenn lives just outside of Boston, where she roots for the Red Sox. Visit her online at JennBishop.com.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

1

 

 

{this summer}

 

 

I used to think if you got woken up in the middle of the night, you needed to watch out. In movies and books, bad things only happen in the middle of the night.

 

But it’s not true. Something bad can happen in the middle of a perfectly sunny day.

 

When Dad starts up the truck, the red numbers on the dashboard clock surprise me. It’s nearly 2:00 a.m. He hums to himself, lost in his own world. He didn’t used to be like this. Sometimes it seems like Dad from last summer and Dad from this summer are two totally different people.

 

Dad from this summer doesn’t tell me where we’re going or why he told me ten minutes ago to get dressed and meet him outside. Only that it was a good surprise. Whatever that means. It’s been a long time since we got a good surprise.

 

After a few minutes of quiet, Dad turns on the radio. In the middle of the night out here, there’s never much on except for After Midnight, this show where people call in to dedicate songs to people they loved until something went wrong.

 

“Our caller tonight is Abby,” the DJ says. “Tell us your story.”

 

“Sure. Two years ago, I met the love of my life in line at the grocery store. How cheesy is that? I know, right? We spent every waking moment together, and six months later he proposed. We were supposed to get married this weekend, but Trevor had a heart attack when he was running a marathon two months ago.”

 

Dad reaches his hand out to turn the radio off. “Don’t,” I whisper. He puts his hand back on the steering wheel and sighs.

 

“He didn’t make it,” Abby says. “I miss him so much. I think about him all the time. Can you play Bette Midler’s ‘The Wind Beneath My Wings’ in honor of him?”

 

“Going out to Trevor, wherever you are, from Abby,” the DJ says, and the song starts to play.

 

I found the radio show one night when I couldn’t sleep. Dad and Mom don’t know that I plug my headphones into the old stereo in my room and listen after they go to bed. It helps, hearing other people’s stories.

 

“The song won’t bring him back,” Dad mutters under his breath.

 

It’s not supposed to, I want to tell him. That’s not the point. But we never talk about this stuff anymore. It feels like Mom and Dad think I’m done talking about it, after my appointments with Miss Ella and her cracked orange leather chair and that plant she always forgot to water. But I wasn’t ready then. I barely got started.

 

I tap my fingers on the side of the door along with the song. “Where are we going?” My voice is shaky, like I haven’t used it in a while. Which I guess is true. There’s no one around to talk to anymore after Mom and Dad go to bed.

 

“The Millers’. We’re getting a boy this summer.”

 

“A boy?”

 

Dad doesn’t answer me at first.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“The players got in late tonight. They flew into O’Hare, and Jim—I mean, Mr. Miller—just got back with them. We’re going to host one this summer.”

 

“We’re getting a baseball player?”

 

“Yup.” Dad raises his eyebrows in that mischievous way he always used to, and for a second it’s as if Dad from last summer is back.

 

Our town is the home of the Tri-City Bandits, a minor league baseball team. The players don’t make much money here, and won’t until they reach the big leagues, so for the summer they stay in people’s houses for free. Mostly retired people who have extra bedrooms, but sometimes people who still have kids at home.

 

“One of the Bandits is going to stay in our house?” My voice gets higher with each word. I can’t help it. My sister, Haley, and I always wanted one of the players to stay with us. Every summer, Haley would beg Mom and Dad, but they always said no. They were too busy.

 

“Mom knows?” I ask.

 

Dad clears his throat. “Your mother and I thought this would be a good thing for us. And for you.” He glances over at me, like he’s waiting for me to agree.

 

Maybe if there’s someone else around the house, Mom will have someone else to hover over. Busy Bee Mom, Haley called her. She’d joke about how Mom would knock on her door five million times every night with questions about school and Haley’s friends and then buzz her way over to my door to check in on me and my homework. Back and forth, back and forth. I could picture Mom like that at the community college, too, where she used to teach English. Buzzing from one desk to the next.

 

Now she has no one else to buzz to. Only me.

 

But not anymore. Not this summer, anyway. Me and a baseball player.

 

I stare out the window at all the cornfields, but it’s more like I’m playing a movie in my head. I can see it already. There’s a super-tan guy living in our house for the whole summer, taking me and my neighbor Casey out for ice cream after the games. We can sit in the seats right behind home plate and shout out our player’s name. And he won’t just be a name off the roster, some guy who signed a foul ball I happened to catch. He’ll be my friend.

 

I want to tell Haley all about it. To have her sitting in the spot next to me, the spot in the truck that was hers.

 

I blink my eyes real fast so tears don’t have a chance to form. We pull into the Millers’ driveway, and Dad puts the truck into park. I dig under the seat for my glove. It’s got to be in here somewhere.

 

“You coming, Quinnen?” Dad is already at the Millers’ front door.

 

“I’ll be right there!” My fingertips touch the worn leather. I reach my arm in deeper, until I have a good grasp on it.

 

When I pull the glove out, it has dust all over it from being in Dad’s truck so long. I slide my hand in, but my fingers hit up against the leather. It’s too small. I’ve outgrown it. I squeeze my hand into it anyway and look at the Millers’ house. Dad has already gone inside.

 

I run up to the front door and have just put my hand on the doorknob when someone inside opens it for me.

 

“Hey, little lady. Isn’t it way past your bedtime?”

 

“Little lady?” Come on. “I’m eleven.” I have to crane my neck way back to see his face. I thought I had grown a lot lately, but this guy is super-tall. His skin is really tan, and his hair is so blond it’s almost white.

 

“So?”

 

“Did you have a bedtime the summer you were eleven?”

 

“Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t sound sorry. “I didn’t realize eleven was so mature.”

 

He’d better not be the one we’re bringing home.

 

“Do you know where my dad went?”

 

“They’re getting things sorted out downstairs.” He turns and walks down the hallway. Maybe he really has to go to the bathroom or something, but he could at least say “Excuse me.”...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Knopf Books for Young Readers
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2016
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1101938714
• ISBN 13: 9781101938713
• Einband: Gebundene Ausgabe
• Anzahl der Seiten: 240
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: eucomply OÜ; hello@eucompliancepartner.com; ; Pärnu mnt 139b-14; Tallinn; 11317; Estland