by Joyce Magnin
Not wanting to appear too anxious, I deliberately didn't watch their practice. I wanted to give an air of confidence, even if my knees knocked like a car engine with bad pistons. So I turned my attention to our side of the field. It seemed like everyone in Paradise turned out to watch. I saw Rube and Charlie and Jake on the sidelines already cheering the Angels on. There were lawn chairs, picnic baskets, and blankets set out, children running around and beer can flip tops popping everywhere. I thought the entire population of Paradise had turned out except Suzy and Fergus.
Even Fleur de Lee arrived with Jaster and the new baby. She walked up to me holding her tiny bundle in a blanket the color of a sunflower. "Look here, Miss Charlotte. I brought the littlest Angel." She opened her blanket and showed me. "And see that," Fleur de Lee said. "She's wearing a teeny, tiny Angels' shirt. That nice Hazel Crenshaw had it made special."
Jaster laughed. "She said if they could make one for Ginger, why not the baby?"
I reached my pinky into the blanket and Angel took hold of it. "That's quite a grip. She's gonna be a ballplayer, all right."That was when Mother startled me from behind. "She's beautiful. Just perfect."
Jaster gave Mother a funny look. "She is perfect. Not like Fleur de Lee or me."
"I didn't mean anything by it," Mother said.
"Sure you did," Jaster said. "But that's okay. Some of the normalest people I know are the most retarded."
I nearly busted out laughing and had to turn away, and, much to my surprise and glee, I saw Hazel sitting on our bench. I was so happy to see her I ran to her and kissed her warm cheek.
"You came. I am so glad."
"Course I did," she said. "I wouldn't miss this game."
I waved Mother over. "Why don't you sit with Hazel, Mother?"
"Hazel," Mother said. "I'm happy to see you. How are things at Willow Drive? Wasn't that what you called it?"
"Way," Hazel corrected. "It's Willow Way. And things are fine, but I do want to get back to Para—"
"Sorry," I interrupted. "The umpire has arrived. Time to play ball."
"Have a good game, dear," Mother said.
"Knock the stuffing out of them," Hazel said.
The umpire called the coaches and captains together. Cash and I exchanged smiles. He shook my hand. "Good luck, Charlotte. Hope you don't have any more pregnant women on your side."
"Nah, just the one."
Missy snarled at Frankie.
"Aw, put a sock in it," Frankie said.
"Now listen up," the umpire said. "We already have four innings played. Three to go. We pick up where we left off."He looked at a card. "The Thunder had Mulligan on second base. There are two outs, and Tyson was just coming to bat when . . . when the incident happened."
"It was a baby," I said. "Not an incident."
"Excuse me," the umpire said. "Baby."
The captains walked off. Cash caught my arm. "If you lose, we have dinner together."
My heart skipped a beat. The sudden action startled me, and I pulled away from him. My thumb instinctively found my empty ring finger. "Cash. What is this?"
"Whoa, whoa. I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay."
"I didn't know how else to ask. I want to take you to dinner."
"Can we discuss this later?"
"Please," he whispered. "Just say yes."
"I can't. Maybe later."
The Angels took the field to the applause of the Paradise fans.
"I have to get to the dugout." Then I looked into those sexy eyes of his. "Okay, maybe. If we win."
"No way. You'll never win."
"We'll see."
Studebaker had the score already in place. The scoreboard had looked a tiny bit wobbly since the storm; they'd shored it up best as they could with two-by-fours and chewing gum. We lost a number nine in the wind. The score stood at Thunder ten, Angels zero.
I took my spot near the bench. Lord have mercy.
Tyson walked to the batter's box. She grunted and smacked the plate twice.
Frankie wound up. She pitched. The ball took a nice, loping arch but dropped before home plate.
"Ball," called the ump.
Rose threw the ball back to Frankie. She took a deep breath.
"It's okay, Frankie," Ginger hollered. "You got it this time."
"No batter, no batter," hollered Clara Kaninsky.
Tyson smacked home plate and rested the bat on her shoulders. Then she got into her stance, bent at the knees, looking like she could send the ball to the moon.
Frankie wound up and pitched. Tyson swung an instant too early, and the bottom fell out of Frankie's pitch just at the right time. That must have been her screwball.
"Strike one," called the umpire.
Four pitches later the inning was over.
I had never seen a happier group of purple and white Angels run off the field.
"Good job, good job," I said.
"Ginger, you're up. Clara, you're next."
Ginger grabbed her bat and swung it a few times. We heard the laughter from the Thunder drifting over the infield. "Okay," I said. "Remember, whatever it takes."
Ginger took the plate. She held her tiny bat on her shoulder. Their pitcher pitched. Way high. Ball one. Ginger got into her stance. Ball two. I smiled. That woman couldn't pitch to her.
Ginger swung at the third pitch. She made contact. The ball dribbled down the third base line. Ginger took off running, her little legs moving as fast as they could. I saw horror in the eyes of the Thunder's first baseman. Ginger was headed right for her like a rogue torpedo. The third baseman threw the ball. It soared over the confused first baseman's head. Ginger rounded toward second. The throw was high again and soared into the outfield. Asa waved Ginger on to third. She was booking now. Asa put his hand up to stop her at third but she blew past him and was on a direct course for home and the Thunder's catcher. Ginger plowed right into the catcher, knocking her onto her back, where she lay like an upside-down turtle waving her arms and legs. Ginger had scored our first home run.
The Angels and the fans went nuts. Screaming and hollering. Ginger dusted herself off while the catcher complained to the ump. "She was like a bullet. She aimed right at me. That ain't fair."
The umpire waved her away. "No contest," he called. "Home run."
Cash Vangarten ripped off his cap and threw it on the ground. "Unsportsmanlike. Unsportsmanlike conduct," he hollered. But then he stopped, picked up his cap, and went back to his bench. He was close to being ejected, and he knew it.
The umpire shook his head, dusted off home plate, and hollered, "Play ball!"
I liked to think the umpire was on our side that day. Well, that umpire and the big umpire in the sky.
The game took on a decidedly vengeful air as both teams duked it out in one way or another.
But it was the top of the seventh now. The Thunder were up. They had a player in scoring position on third, and their big gun, Missy, was at the plate. All she needed was one good hit in Edwina's direction and it would be over.
I chewed my nails and called a meeting with Rose and Frankie, Gwendolyn and Marlabeth.
"Now, look," I said. "All she needs is a line drive into the outfield. Edwina can't field very well, and their batter will score for sure. We can't let that happen. Frankie, you pitch low and inside. Give her a hard time. And Rose, whatever you do, do not drop the ball."
I went back to the bench and stood next to Asa. "They'll do it," he said.
I sucked air. "I can't watch."
Asa pulled my hands from my eyes. "But you have to."
Frankie pitched. Their slugger swung at an inside pitch. She hit a slow roller right at Ginger. Ginger fielded the ball as their player on third took off toward home.
"Throw to home," I screamed. "Throw to home."
Ginger threw with all her might. She pulled the ball back with her little arm and heaved it toward Rose, and in all my days I had never seen anything like it. I could almost see flames on the
ball. It was like a meteor hurtling toward Rose. It was like the hand of God carried it through the air.
"Catch it, Rose. Please, catch it."
Smack. I heard the ball land in Rose's glove, a millisecond before their base runner slid.
"She's out," called the umpire. "Game over. Angels win!"
The Angels leaped and hollered and congratulated each other. Marlabeth picked Ginger up on her shoulders and paraded her around the field to the cheers of the crowd. Even Hazel and Mother jumped from the bench. They held hands and jumped up and down like two little girls. Asa ran around with one sleeve flapping like a pelican wing, and I thought he was looking for an extra hand to clap. So I lent him mine.
"You did it, Charlotte. You won!" he said.
"We won," I said. "We won."
The celebration continued for five minutes before I sent the Angels over to the Thunder to shake hands. I didn't want to be criticized for being unsportsmanlike.
I offered Cash my hand.
"Good game," he said. "I never would have believed it."
"Well, you have size and power and experience on your side. But we have something you don't."
"I know, I know," he said. "Heart. You have heart."
I waved his word away. "Nah, heart shmart. What we have is a hell-on-wheels midget and a one-armed pitching coach. Not to mention a lactating mother with sore breasts, a tattooed lady, a group of housewives who needed some fun in their lives, and two very special causes to spur us on."
Cash laughed. "Now that's dangerous," he said. "But you know what this means, don't you?"
"What?"
"Dinner. Friday night. I'll pick you up at seven."
"I can't, Cash. Not yet." I looked away from him and spied my mother coming near.
He grabbed my hand again, and this time I took it back. "I said I can't. Not yet."
"She said no." My mother glared at him.
"But why?"
"She has her reasons." Mother draped her arm around my shoulders. "Good game, dear. You really knocked 'em for a loop."
Hazel yakked it up with Asa and Rube. "Now, this is a team I am proud to sponsor," she said loud enough for Cash to hear. He shook his head and loped toward the waiting school bus.
The Thunder rode off with their tails between their legs and the sun setting behind the mountains in ribbons of purple and white, orange and red. "Better luck next time, ladies," I said with a two-finger salute.
I gathered the team around. "That was amazing," I said. "I knew you had it in you."
Gwendolyn cried. "We did good, Charlotte. We did good."
"Well," Thomasina said. "We did well."
Edwina chuckled and said. "Well? Now that's a deep subject."
Asa patted her back. "You did. You all did good."
"Let's go home," I said. "And don't let this go to your heads. We still have eight games to play, but if you play every game like you did today, then I'd say we're headed for the championship of the Trailer Park League."
They held hands in a circle and cheered for themselves. A well-deserved moment of joy.
"Look," called Edwina. "I see smoke. It's coming from the trailer park."
"It is!" hollered Asa. "That's a fire." He took off.
"I smell something bad," Marlabeth said. "It's not wood smoke or trash."
I grabbed my mother's hand, and we ran through the woods toward the smoke, followed closely by Rose and Ginger. We stopped at the tree line just where the asphalt began.
"Something's on fire," Rose said. "I can see flames through the trees."
"O my Lord," I said. We moved closer.
"It's the Wrinkel trailer," Rose said, as she dropped to her knees and prayed.
38
Orange and yellow flames enveloped the Wrinkels's trailer. Black, billowing smoke rose from the roof and the windows.
"Suzy," I said. "Where's Suzy?"
I searched through the gathering crowd in the darkening light. I didn't see her or Fergus. I did notice that his truck was missing, and I hoped against hope that they were together.
"I can't believe my eyes," Mother said. She moved back from the intensifying heat. "Charlotte, come away from there. You'll burn up."
"Suzy! Suzy!" I called.
Just as the words left my mouth, Fergus pulled up in his truck. He stopped so fast the truck lurched forward and back. He dove out of the cab and headed for his front door.
Asa and Rube ran toward him. "No! Fergus. Don't!" they hollered. "Don't go in there!"
But it didn't matter. All we could do was watch. Fergus pulled open his front door, and BLAM! an explosion shook the ground and sent sparks and flames and debris hurtling toward us.
Asa grabbed Rose and flung her as far as he could. I scrambled toward them, my knees shook, my heart pounded. I could barely breathe from the heat and smell of the fire, burning wood and plastic that stung my nose and lungs. My ears rang from the sound.
"Fergus," I said. "Is he . . . dead?"
Asa swallowed and wiped perspiration and soot from his face. "There's no way he survived that."
Tears welled in my eyes, tears from the surging heat and the impossible emotions.
"Do they all explode like that?" I asked Asa. "Do all trailers just explode like a bomb?"
Asa helped Rose to her feet. He brushed off her back."Propane. It was the propane tanks, I'm sure."
"Propane?" Mother said. "Charlotte, you are not staying here any longer. I demand that you move to Cocoa Reef with me. Tonight!" And she marched off toward my trailer.
"Why did he do that?" Rose asked. "Why did he run back inside?"
"Suzy?" I said. "Do you think he went in after Suzy?"
I stared at the flames shooting into the sky.
"I don't want to think about that," Asa said. "But she . . . she was most likely in there."
Rose stood near the fountain area. She stared at the flames with fixed eyes.
"Come on, Rose. We have to find Suzy."
But she wouldn't move. She just stood there with a look of horror on her face. I knew in that moment she was remembering what had happened to her. She closed her arms tight against her chest. I looked for help, anyone to help Rose back to her trailer. Back to the hand of God.
Ginger appeared and then Marlabeth. "Please, Marlabeth," I said. "Take Rose home. She can't see this."
Marlabeth put her arm around Rose. "I have chamomile and valerian root in my Thermos," she said and led her away. Ginger followed.
All the men formed a line as near as they dared to the fire and chased the women and children home. I refused to go.
"Not until I find Suzy." The searing hot flames were loud like rushing wind as they spewed out of the trailer like huge tongues lapping at the air, drinking in the oxygen.
I heard sirens in the distance. "They're coming, but where is Suzy?"
I hollered as loud as I could for her. "Suzy! Suzy!"
A long fire truck pulled into Paradise, just barely missing the palm trees. The firemen went to work immediately. They uncoiled hoses and hooked into the fireplug on the road. Two men trained their hoses on the trailer, while another fireman kept a hose aimed between the Wrinkel trailer and the one on the other side. He kept a wide, steady mist flowing, almost like a spring shower. I could see color reflected in the water droplets, tiny, oily rainbows.
Asa and I stood with Rube until the flames were finally extinguished. There was still no sign of Suzy. "She must be inside," I told Rube.
Rube turned his head toward the trailer. "Maybe not. Maybe she got out. Maybe she got scared and ran off."
"Where? Where would she go?"
I wiped tears and perspiration from my face. I watched the firemen. They kept water on the wreckage for the better part of an hour until the last bit of smoke and embers died.
The crowd dispersed in eerie silence. I stayed with Asa and a couple of other men. We continued watching.
"I can't believe it," Asa said. "I wonder what happened."
"We'll
know soon," Rube said. "The fire marshall will investigate. He'll get to the bottom of it."
"Good," I said. "But what about Fergus? What about the body?"
"What's left of it," Asa said.
A strange dark car with its high beams blaring and a blue light flashing on the roof pulled onto the scene.
"Who's that?" I asked.
"Medical examiner," a passing fireman said. "He needs to deal with the remains."
I swallowed. It was hard to imagine Fergus's charred body under all that blackened and smoking rubble. Even harder to imagine Suzy's.
A short but stocky man emerged from the driver's side and a taller man got out of the passenger side. They went straight to the fire chief. I watched them speaking, trying my best to overhear. But I didn't hear much except the name Wrinkel and the word idiot.
The two officials made their way to the wreckage and with the help of two firemen uncovered what I assumed was Fergus Wrinkel. I needed to turn my head as they removed the remains. The two men carried it in a black bag to the car, a station wagon. They opened the back and slid the body inside.
Asa tried to hold me back but couldn't, and I rushed to the car. "Is that all?" I asked. "Just one body? Was it a man's?"
The medical examiner stepped away from the car. "Just one body, Ma'am. And, yes. It's a male."
The smaller man, who sounded a little like Peter Lorre, said, "Was there someone else inside?" I half expected him to rub his hands together and drool at the possibility of another body.
"I'm not sure. A woman—"
The officers shook their heads in unison. "Just the one."
I went back to Asa, who was speaking with the fire marshall.
"Are you certain?" Asa said. "A gas can?"
The fire marshall nodded. "Yep. It will be evidence." And he walked away toward the still-volcanic carnage.
"What does that mean?" I asked. "So what? A gas can."
"Arson," Asa whispered. "It means the fire was deliberately set."
Shock wriggled through my body. "Arson. You mean Fergus or—"
"Shh," Asa said. "We have to find Suzy. Let's go."
"Where? Where would she go?"
"I don't know," Asa said. "But if she's in Paradise, I'll find her. You go check on Rose. She probably needs you now."
