The Zombie Who Loved Baseball

It was the hottest day of summer, and the neighborhood kids were playing baseball in Leo's backyard. Sweat dripped down their faces as they swung their bats and ran the bases.

Suddenly, Leo's little sister Mia pointed toward Old Man Jenkins' house next door. "I see something in his pool!"

The kids crept closer to the wooden fence. Through the cracks, they saw it—a green figure shambling around the swimming pool. Its arms hung loose, and it moved slowly, strangely.

"A zombie!" whispered Tommy, his eyes wide.

But instead of being scared, Leo noticed something. The zombie was holding a baseball bat and swinging it clumsily.

"Let's talk to it," Leo said, opening the gate.

The zombie turned. Its face was covered in green paint, and when it smiled, teeth flashed white. "Hi," it said in a muffled voice. "I'm just practicing."

The zombie pulled off its mask to reveal—Old Man Jenkins himself!

"I used to play baseball," Mr. Jenkins said, wiping green paint from his hands. "Haven't played in years. My grandkids sent me this zombie costume for Halloween, and I thought I'd practice my swing while wearing it for fun."

The kids' faces lit up.

"Want to play with us?" Leo asked.

Mr. Jenkins' eyes sparkled. "I thought you'd never ask."

That afternoon, the zombie costume lay on the grass while Mr. Jenkins taught them his secret batting techniques. They learned that sometimes the scariest-looking things aren't scary at all—they're just people who need friends.

And every summer after that, Mr. Jenkins joined their baseball games, no zombie costume needed.

Because the best teammates aren't the ones who look the coolest. They're the ones who show up, bat in hand, ready to play.