by Joyce Magnin
My heart danced a jig. "A ladies' softball team?"
A half hour later I left the Pink Lady armed with the information I needed to get my team registered with the Trailer Park League and a notion to begin making bacon and marmalade sandwiches. It was indeed a tasty bite. Mr. Vangarten said I had about three days to get the team set up to play, but it meant we needed a name, a sponsor if we wanted one, uniforms, a roster, and all the league papers filled out and filed with the home office. And then we'd only be eligible to play in the summer league. That was fine by me. More time to get in shape.
Lucky was more than happy to see me and I regretted not bringing him a bacon-marmalade sandwich. "Sorry, fella. I'll make you one myself."
There was a lot of work to be done, but I was filled with enthusiasm and determination when I pulled into Paradise. At least until I noticed the mob of trailerites outside my trailer.
Lucky barked. "My goodness gracious," I said. "What's wrong?" My immediate thought was that something might have happened to Suzy. I opened the door and Lucky barked even harder. I held onto his collar. "Settle down. Settle down."
"There she is," Rube Felker called. "That's Charlotte Figg."And that was when I realized it was a mob of men. Just men.
"She's the one. She's the one that got our women all hepped up about some dang fool softball game."
A marmalade burp formed in my throat. I had never been in a riot before.
11
What's wrong?" I called. "What happened?"
The next thing I knew, three men rushed toward me. "There ain't going to be no softball," they hollered.
Paralyzed, my mind reeled for something, anything, to say that wouldn't make me sound like a perfect blithering idiot. What I had here was potential mayhem over a women's softball team. I spotted Frankie's husband among the three.
"Rube, what's wrong? Please tell me what's wrong."
Lucky continued to bark his fool head off, but there was no way I could let him loose. I thought maybe I should put him in the car for his own safety.
That was when a tall, lanky, but mean-looking man stepped within three inches of my face. I could smell his peanutbutter–laced breath. His eyes were wide and crinkled around the edges, his teeth tanned from coffee. "Clara Kaninsky is not playing on your team. Not for one gol-darn minute she ain't."
I swallowed and stepped back. "Excuse me," I said as I pulled myself up to my full height. "I'd like to go into my home and you are in my way, you and the rest of your rabble rousers." My heart pounded in my ears. "My dog needs to go inside, Mr. Kaninsky."
I attempted to walk past him. Lucky busted loose and ran wild, barking and even nipping at a few ankles. The rest of the men formed a wall between me and the front door. I had never felt so assaulted in my life. That's exactly what it felt like—like I was being assaulted without a single one of them laying a finger on me.
My heart pounded harder. I could feel it throb in my neck and my ears. I touched my stomach as a flood of emotions rushed through me. I wanted Herman, but Herman wasn't there. He wasn't ever going to be there again. I needed to defend myself. So I pulled myself up to my full height and I waggled my finger.
"I will not stand here and let you do this," I said. "Now, I will be happy to discuss it later. Not now, later. I need to go to the bathroom, and I'm afraid if I stand here much longer I will pee my pants. Now, please step aside."
That was when Rube started to laugh. He grabbed onto Mr. Kaninsky's shoulder and pulled him aside. "Come on, Carl, let her alone. I told you this wouldn't work. Let her alone, now."
I looked into Rube's eyes. "Thank you, Rube."
The men parted and I waddled through the mob with my head high, my inner thighs tight against each other for fear I was really going to have an accident, and my mind reeling. I might have sounded strong. I might have sounded like I was not upset by their show of animosity against me, but inside I cowered like Lucky in a thunderstorm.
The trailer door needed the usual hip action. Once we were safely inside, Lucky leaped onto my waist and licked my face."It's okay, boy. I'm okay." Then I sat down on the sofa, dropped my handbag on the floor, and cried. I sat there and blubbered with Lucky's paw on my knee and his brown eyes staring up at me as if he wanted to say, "Now where's that sandwich you promised me, Charlotte?"
I only sat there a couple of minutes before I heard Rose calling, "Charlotte, Charlotte. You okay? Let us in."
I pulled open the door.
"Charlotte," Rose said. "We saw you come home and saw Charlie's motley band of vigilantes up here trying to harass you."
Ginger pushed her way into the house and hopped up on the sofa. "We were afraid they'd pull something stupid like this." She wiggled back into the couch. "But never you mind about them. This is a Holy Spirit-appointed thing you got going on. There is nothing that can or will keep us from playing ball now." She pushed her little fingers through her long hair. "We are not afraid of them bullies."
"That's right," Rose said. She had made her way into the kitchen. "You didn't give into them, did you?"
I shook my head. "Of course not, Rose."
She smiled in my direction. "Good. Because I've already seen it starting to change things around here. The women who came to church this morning seemed just a tad more selfassured, happy. Like they had something to look forward to. They yammered all about the team."
"Maybe the husbands saw it too," Ginger said. "And they don't like it."
"Phooey on them," Rose said.
My stomach sunk to my knees. "I don't want to cause a mass run to divorce court. Softball is good, but I'm not sure it's worth all this. Maybe I should rethink what I have done."
Rose laughed. "You aren't causing anyone to get divorced. This is just different for the women and the men. Let's give it time. Let the wives handle their husbands."
I moved into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. "I promised Lucky a sandwich."
"A sandwich?" Rose said. "What kind of dog eats sandwiches?"
"I had the most delicious sandwich at the Pink Lady. That nice Mr. Cash Vangarten introduced me to them. Bacon and orange marmalade on toast."
"Ewww," Ginger said. "That sounds disgusting."
"But it's not," I said. I searched around in the fridge for the bacon. I kept my head inside for a few moments longer than necessary as I tried to pull myself together. It had been quite a Sunday afternoon.
The bacon sizzled in the pan before anyone said another word.
"Sounds like you have some explaining to do, Charlotte," Rose said. "What exactly happened in Shoops?"
"I went to the Pink Lady and met this nice fella named Cash Vangarten."
"Oh," Ginger said, "is that why you're all flushed?"
"Now, don't be ridiculous. If I'm flushed it's because of that mob outside."
Rose put her hand on my shoulder just as a bit of bacon grease popped onto my hand.
"Ow. I hate it when this happens. Why is bacon so darn dangerous to fry?"
"Okay, okay," Rose said. "Why don't you just tell us and we'll be quiet."
"Thank you. As it turns out, I have some good news. I mean, besides the discovery of bacon and orange marmalade on toast."
I caught the glance that passed between my friends. "You'll see. You'll try one and I guarantee you will love it."
Rose tapped her foot. "Tell us your news, Charlotte."
"Like I was saying, I met this guy named Cash Vangarten at the Pink Lady. It was the only place open besides the Piggly Wiggly, and I didn't think I'd find anyone in there who knew about women's softball." I dropped bacon onto a paper towel on a plate. "Rose, will you push that toast down? And it turned out that, get this, he coaches a women's softball team in Shoops."
Ginger laughed. "Oh, no! What are the odds of that happening? You walk into a restaurant and just happen to meet a softball coach."
"It's true. Anyway, he told me everything we need to do to get set up in the Trailer Park Softball League."
Rose sn
agged the toast when it popped. "No kidding. You mean there really is such a thing?"
I slathered the toast with orange marmalade and arranged the bacon on top. "Lucky, come on, boy. I got your sandwich."
He came running. I broke off a corner, blew on the hot bread and then he gulped it like he hadn't had a meal in ten days. I put the remaining sandwich in his bowl. It was gone in two seconds and he begged for more. I patted his head. "Later. Too much bacon isn't good for you."
"Hallelujah," Ginger said. "Looks like we got a bona fide team now. And would it be too much trouble to make one of those for me?"
I put enough bacon in the pan for three sandwiches and explained what I'd learned. "Sponsor?" Rose said.
"Uniforms?" Ginger said.
"Name?" I said.
We sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee, eating our sandwiches, and ruminating on the fact that we lacked all three requirements and had precious little time to acquire them.
"Looks like we struck out before we even went to the plate," Ginger said.
"Nah," I said with all the certainty of a criminal in front of a firing squad expecting the bullet to miss. "We'll think of something."
12
It had been spring for a week and Paradise hummed with vernal activity. Early morning snow flurries gave way to warm air and bright sunshine. I entertained the notion that softball might have been the catalyst that brought the women out to tend to overgrown gardens and plant tulip bulbs. But maybe not, and I guess it didn't really matter. I was happy to see it, whatever the case might be.
I stood on the little deck watching Lucky chase squirrels when a pesky skunk that had been stinking up the place came out from behind the trailer next door. I had just instructed Lucky not to go near the skunk when I saw Francine running down the street.
"Charlotte, Charlotte," she hollered. "Get your dog inside. That sick skunk is on the loose again."
"What are you blabbering about, Frankie?"
"Ain't you seen it?"
"Sure. That's him over there." I pointed. "I didn't know skunks grew that large."
"Get inside, Charlotte, that thing is sick. Skunks don't come out in the daylight unless they're sick and that one's got rabies sure as shootin'."
"Rabies." I pulled my robe tight around my body and called for Lucky.
Frankie's eyes darted around like two pinballs. "What should we do? I called that dang fool dogcatcher, but he ain't been out yet. Only comes if Fergus calls him out on account of the children running amok."
Lucky bounded from behind the trailer. He whooped and barked and blew right past me with his tail between his legs into the trailer. He nearly knocked me over.
"Here it comes." Frankie pointed and the skunk lumbered by. "We got to do something before he bites one of us or sprays one of us. Surprised that dog of yours hasn't gotten a cloud of stink in his face."
"What about the police?" I said. "Can you call the police?"
"Good idea." Frankie pushed past me into the trailer. She grabbed the phone and dialed. "Of course it's rabid," she said into the receiver. "I know a rabid skunk when I see one."
She hung up and we waited.
Ten full minutes later I heard the siren and looked out my kitchen bay window. A police car pulled up right in front. Two burly police officers—one male, the other female—leaped out of their car and opened fire on the skunk that was now in Hazel Crenshaw's yard.
"Oh, my goodness gracious, they killed it," I said.
"And then some," Frankie said. "Hope they remove the carcass. The dead-animal remover is even harder to get a hold of then the dog catcher."
"Dead-animal remover?"
"Sure. What? You think all them flat possums and coons and deer out on the roads get resurrected and walk away?"
I shook my head and went to the front door.
"Don't open the—" Frankie hollered. But it was too late. I opened the door, and the stink was so bad my eyes watered like I had been dicing onions all day and my chest hurt. I slammed the door.
"What do we do now?" I said.
"Just wait it out, Charlotte. It'll go away. But I wouldn't let Lucky out for a while if I were you. Dogs like to roll around in that."
Frankie grabbed one of my prettiest tea towels off the kitchen counter and made herself a little burglar-type mask. "I gotta be getting back. You stay put a while."
I found Lucky cowering under the bed. "Come on, fella. What happened?" I had to drag him out. I saw two pink stripes on his black nose. It looked like the skunk either bit him or scratched him. My heart pounded. "Oh, Lucky, we need to get you to the vet."
He was of course current on his rabies shots, but I didn't want to take a chance, and so I called the Shoops veterinary clinic right away. They were very nice and told me I could bring him right down.
The visit went well and Lucky only needed a booster shot. I think my silly pooch kind of liked Dr. Fish. I thanked her very kindly and we headed back to Paradise, but not before stopping at the Pink Lady for a take-out order. I had a hankering for a chocolate milkshake and a bacon and marmalade sandwich. And guess who was sitting at the counter, this time all dressed up in a suit and tie like he had just walked out of the window at JCPenney?
"Hello, Mr. Vangarten," I said.
He spun around on the counter stool. "Mrs. Figg. What brings you to Shoops?"
I explained about the skunk and the shooting and the vet, and he was very sympathetic and even paid for my lunch. We made eye contact at one point and I sensed a definite something pass between us, but I let it go and scolded myself when I got back to the car. "Charlotte Figg, what got into you? Why are you making eyes at Mr. Vangarten when Herman's not been dead three months?"
I got back to Paradise and parked the car. Lucky took off like a shot, like nothing had ever happened. I wondered if he was still after the skunk, but the stench should have been enough to chase him inside. I looked over at Hazel Crenshaw's and saw her pouring something red all over the ground where the unfortunate animal met his demise.
"What are you doing, Mrs. Crenshaw?" I called. It was the first time I had spoken to the woman, and Asa and Rose were correct in their assessment, I decided. She looked kind of strange and silly.
"Only way to kill the stink," she called. "And I don't have any tomato juice."
"Well, what is that you're dumping?"
"Only tomato-like stuff I could find. Spaghetti sauce."
"Why?" I felt my forehead wrinkle.
"Tomatoes cut the smell. Everyone knows that."
I shook my head. "If you say so."
By now it was a quarter to two and I was pretty well on my way to exhausted. I figured a cup of coffee was in order. I saw Asa out the window holding his nose as he made his way to my trailer.
I opened the front door and pulled Asa inside. "Get out of that stench," I said.
"Yeah, we heard all about the skunk."
"Yep. The police killed him, but not before he bit Lucky."
"He okay?"
I nodded, and Lucky came out of the bedroom. "Poor pooch," Asa gave him a good ear scratch.
"I was just about to make a pot of coffee."
"None for me, thanks. I came by to tell you that my cousin Studebaker and me and the Frost sisters been working like mad. We got the land cleared and ready to plant grass and build an infield and—"
I rushed to him and threw my arms around him. "Asa. Thank you."
He held onto me with his one arm for a few seconds. "Want to go see it?"
"I do," I said, stepping back. "Let's get Rose and Ginger."
I had never met Edwina and Thomasina Frost until that day, and I got to tell you that they were exactly what I pictured. Bookends. Medium height with short, dirty blond hair secured at the side with a barrette. They wore denim overalls with a flannel shirt and orange work boots. The only difference between the two was that Edwina liked to keep her hands stuffed in her pockets.
"Is that them?" I saw a door open on a long, purplish grey trailer
about a hundred yards ahead of us.
"Must have seen us traipsing through the woods," Asa said."They got eyes like hawks."
"And binoculars," Ginger said.
"Are they going to shoot at us?" I asked. "I've had my fill of gunfire around here."
"Nah, we just have to raise that little yellow flag over there. That way they know we're friends."
"Flag? What flag? I don't see a flag."
"They keep it hidden so only folks who know about it will raise it."
Asa reached into a tree trunk and a little yellow pennant zipped up a line above the trees.
Rose and Ginger laughed.
"They always laugh at the flag," Asa said. "But it really is a good idea. I mean, they are two women living alone in a trailer in the woods. Seems to me if more women had yellow flags maybe they. . . . "
He stopped talking and looked in Rose's direction.
"It's okay, Asa. I understand what you're saying."
I thought he might be talking about Rose's horrendous experience. But he was also hoping Suzy could find the courage to raise a flag and let friends inside.
Asa raised his hand. "I brought Charlotte."
Edwina and Thomasina headed toward us like we were long-lost cousins.
"Welcome," they said. "Welcome to our farm, Frosty Acres."Edwina elbowed Thomasina like she had just told the world's funniest joke. "Frosty Acres," she said. "It still slays me."
I thought a handshake would suffice. but instead I got pulled into a tight bear hug. "I'm Edwina. And this is my sister Thomasina."
"Pleased to meet you," I said.
After a few more hellos we went behind their trailer. I took a minute to admire their rig. It was gorgeous, with awnings and pink and purple trailing verbena in hanging pots. The trailer I thought I had purchased. "That creep," I said.
"Excuse me?" Thomasina said.
"That creep, Fergus Wrinkel. This is the trailer in the ad. The trailer I thought I bought when I was really buying that bucket of rust I got shystered into buying."
