Barbara L. Clanton - Out of Left Field

by Barbara L. Clanton

  Marlee took a deep breath to clear her head of the memories and couldn’t help but notice the brilliant blue sky again. What a perfect day for softball. But Coach Spears never had practices on Saturday. She wanted to, but the school administration had halted all weekend activities at the school in an effort to save money. And that included softball. The only exception the school ever made was for make-up games due to rainouts or the occasional snow-out.

  Marlee cut the mower’s engine again and wheeled it back into the garage. She looked at her workbench with a sigh. She pulled her dad’s stool up to the bench and hopped on. With her left arm she swept the tools and debris off to one side. She grabbed an old piece of cardboard on the workbench and found a dull pencil in a jar with some nails. She wrote on the top of the piece of cardboard, “Brilliant Things to Say to Susie Torres, #7.” She wrote the number one and put a circle around it. Marlee put the pencil to her mouth and stared into space. Nothing came to her. She thought some more. Still nothing. With a sigh, she put the cardboard and pencil in her pocket, the same pocket with the coveted phone number and went about the business of cleaning off her workbench.

  For over two-and-a-half hours she organized and cleaned up her tools. She hung them on the pegboard system she and her dad had put up. She threw out useless spare parts and old rotten pieces of wood she had stored in the garage for some reason. Workbench and garage fairly organized, Marlee went back into the house and realized that she hadn’t thought of a single thing to say to Susie.

  Cardboard and pencil back in hand, Marlee paced back and forth over the braided rug in her room trying to find something clever to say to Susie. She felt stupid making a list, but didn’t want to leave anything to chance because her nerves might get the better of her and she didn’t want to sound like an idiot.

  “Hey, Susie, what’s up?” Marlee said to Patches who was sleeping on the recliner. Patches opened one weary eye but didn’t answer. “Right, too casual. How about this? Hey, Susie, we got home okay last night. Good plan you had.” Marlee laughed and rolled her eyes. “Bzzt. Wrong answer. Please try again.” She tapped the pencil against the cardboard. “Susie, how are you?” Patches looked up again from the recliner. “Yeah, you’re right kitty cat. Not bad, not bad.” Keep going, Marlee thought. You’ve got more than that to say to her.

  She decided to make a list of potential topics instead. She looked out her window. The grass, still brown from winter, did nothing to inspire her. She looked around her room. She noticed her Second-Team All-County batting trophy on the bookshelf above her desk. In her neatest handwriting she wrote the word softball on the cardboard and stopped. Duh, she thought, isn’t there anything else I can come up with? Was that all they had in common? Marlee furrowed her brow and felt her neck and shoulders tense up like when she didn’t pitch well.

  “Wait, Patches, I know. We can talk about last night. Yeah, yeah. She can console me about having to deal with Jeri. Yeah, Jeri, the one who slept in your chair. Sorry, little one.” Marlee picked up the calico and fell back onto her recently made bed. “And I promise I’ll clean your litter box, but later after I talk to Susie. Okay?” Marlee closed her eyes and stroked Patches’ fur. Patches approved by purring.

  Marlee woke with a start, launching Patches off the bed. The phone was ringing.

  “Crap. Crap,” she panicked. “What time is it, Patches?” She looked at the clock radio on her bedside stand. 1:30. She breathed a sigh of relief. She still had time. It was just Bobby. It

  had to be. She picked up the phone and said, “Hello?”

  “So, were you ever going to call me today?”

  Marlee inhaled sharply when she heard Susie’s voice. “Susie?” She had to make sure.

  “Yup, it’s me. I guess you got home okay. How’d it go?”

  “Oh man. Yeah, we’re fine.” Marlee smiled. She was talking to Susie. “Jeri’s got a monster headache.”

  “So does Christy.” Susie’s voice held a dash of disdain. “But what else is new?”

  “Hey, thanks for helping me last night. I couldn’t think. How’d you know what to do?” Marlee, still lying on her bed, rolled over on her side and settled in.

  “Humph,” Susie harrumphed. “Christy. Been there, done that. Wore that t-shirt out.”

  “Really? She does this all the time?”

  “Yeah, well, I think drinking just gives her something to do. Her parents are never home so she practically lives by herself. And when her parents are home, they pretty much ignore her. I mean, they’ve never been to a single one of her softball games. Can you believe that? That’s why I hang around, I guess. I kind of try to take care of her. I mean, we’ve been friends, like, forever. Since I was in second grade and she was in third. We played T-ball together.”

  “Wow. Jeri and I met in middle school. Algebra.” Marlee traced the pattern on her bedspread with her finger. “I guess you’re lucky that Christy was already home last night.”

  “Yup,” Susie said, “but even so she wasn’t easy to handle. She got mad at me because Jeri left. I guess they’d been having a swell time. She’s not fun when she’s mad. She wouldn’t let me go home.”

  Marlee sat up in alarm. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, she gets a little rambunctious and, uh, clingy when she drinks. I had to stay with her until she fell asleep. Then Sam and I got rid of the beer cans and stuff. And then I went home.”

  Marlee felt herself relax. Susie’s liquid voice soothed the tightness in her shoulders and neck.

  “Hey, Marlee, hang on a minute.” Marlee could hear Susie’s muffled voice, “Abuelita, estoy hablando por teléfono. Dame diez minutos, por favor. I promise.”

  “Sorry, that was my Grandmother,” Susie explained. “She doesn’t know much English. My parents brought her here from Puerto Rico just before I was born.” Susie laughed. “She’s been here for about seventeen years and still hasn’t picked up the language.”

  “Really?” Marlee laughed in response. Marlee hadn’t known that Susie was Puerto Rican. Even in Spanish, no, especially in Spanish, Susie’s voice was refreshing like a cool breeze on a hot summer day.

  They talked about softball, school, Jeri, The D’Amicos’ Restaurant, what Marlee did that morning, what Susie did that morning, and the SAT’s in May. Marlee didn’t need her cardboard list of topics after all. Oddly, they didn’t talk about Christy anymore, but Marlee was more than okay with that because Christy wasn’t her favorite topic and Susie didn’t seem to want to talk about her anyway. Marlee didn’t mention Bobby much, either. She and Bobby didn’t have any definite plans so why bring him up? She glanced at the clock on her bedside stand and noticed that it was 2:35. They had talked for over an hour.

  “Aay, Dios mio!” Susie exclaimed as if she had just looked at a clock, too. “I have to get going. I promised Grandma I’d drive her to her friend’s house. They play cards all afternoon. Sometimes I stay and play with them.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. These old ladies are pretty ruthless sometimes. But it’s fun spending time with my Grandma and I get to practice my Spanish. Shoot, I gotta go. But listen, have fun with Bobby.”

  “How did you...” Marlee started to ask. She hadn’t mentioned Bobby, but after the Truth or Dare game she supposed he wasn’t any big secret.

  “Lucky guess.”

  “Oh,” Marlee said. “And, by the way, how’d you get my phone number?”

  “Another lucky guess.” Marlee could almost hear Susie smile. “No, I looked you up in the phone book. You’re the only McAllister listed in Clarksonville. I took a chance.”

  “Lucky.”

  “Yup. Uh, listen. Would you guys like to come out here again next Friday? We’ve got a night game against Northwood at seven and we’re going to Christy’s after that.”

  “Yeah,” Marlee said with way too much enthusiasm. She raked a hand through her short hair. “Uh, sure. We’ll come by your game after our game against Racquette.”

  “Oh, no. I didn’t kn
ow you had a game, too. Maybe you guys’ll be too tired.”

  “No!” Marlee cringed at her over-zealous response. “Uh, no, no,” she toned down. “We’ll be fine. I’ll talk to Jeri about it.”

  “Okay, call me, uh, call me during the week. Or even tomorrow if you want. And let Jeri know that Christy had a great time with her. Really took to her.” Susie laughed loud into the phone. “But maybe from now on Jeri should stick to root beer like you.” She seemed to hesitate before adding, “And bring anybody else from your team, except, uh, it’s an all-girls’ thing so Bobby’d probably feel out of place.”

  Marlee hadn’t even considered bringing Bobby, but she said, “Oh yeah. That’s cool. I’ll call you. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow would be cool. And you’ll have to tell me all about him sometime. Friday maybe,” Susie said softly.

  They said their goodbyes and Marlee gently placed the phone back in its charger. She stood up and stretched, stiff from having stayed in one place for so long. She walked to the window to drink in the warmth of the late afternoon sun. Marlee didn’t think they’d be talking about Bobby on Friday. Not if she had anything to do with it.

  A sudden chill broke her mood. Bobby. He hadn’t called her yet, but he probably couldn’t get through since she’d been on the phone forever. Funny thing, though, she hadn’t heard the beep of a call waiting. She turned on her cell phone. No missed calls. No messages.

  Chapter Five

  Dumped

  “HE NEVER CALLED you?” Jeri took off her softball glove and plopped on the team bench. “Did you call him? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Marlee grabbed her batting helmet and said, “I was embarrassed, okay? But I’m telling you now. And yeah, I did call him. But he was out. Not home. Zilch. Nada.” She pulled on her batting gloves and said, “Listen, I’m on deck. I’ll fill you in after my homerun.”

  “Ha. You already hit one of those today, Marlee,” Jeri called after her friend.

  The Clarksonville Cougars were beating the Northwood Wolverines by a score of 10-2 in the bottom of the sixth inning in the Tuesday afternoon contest. The game had begun with blue skies and a temperature that hovered between needing to wear a sweatshirt and not needing to wear a sweatshirt. But dark clouds had rolled in forcing the sweatshirts back on.

  Marlee took her practice swings in the on-deck circle and was almost sorry she’d mentioned Bobby to Jeri because now she couldn’t get him off her mind. Bobby hadn’t called on Saturday like he promised, so Marlee called his house. His mother said he was out and didn’t know when he’d be back. Marlee figured he was on his way to her house, but when he didn’t show up after an hour, she got worried. Maybe he’d gotten into a car accident or something. She called his house again and his mother, seeming a little impatient with Marlee, said he had gone to play ice hockey with his friends at the rink. Stunned, Marlee hung up the phone and decided that Bobby would have to call her. She was done waiting.

  Even though she was pissed at him, she still had warm and fuzzy feelings for him. She loved his easygoing manner, his ready smile, his boyish good looks, and the way he had obviously taken to her. But her feelings for him had never turned into anything more. She wished those amazing feelings she experienced that night at Lake Birch had been for him. But they weren’t. Those delicious, tempting, powerful feelings had been for Susie and that was way too scary and confusing to think about directly.

  With concentrated effort, Marlee forced her thoughts back to the game. Julie, their number two batter, promptly got hit by a pitch. The Northwood pitcher didn’t have much control so when Julie got hit Marlee wasn’t surprised. Marlee walked up to the plate feeling strong but angry. Angry that Bobby had stood her up on Saturday so she decided to take it out on the Northwood team. A slow pitch, right down the middle, came her way. Marlee waited just the right amount of time and exploded. Her powerful swing connected with the ball, and it landed in the right-center field gap she had aimed for. Adrenaline pumping, she sprinted to first and got waved toward second. As she rounded second base Coach Spears waved her on to third. She raced toward the bag and Coach Spears threw her hands up signaling Marlee to stop. Marlee slowed her stride and cruised into third base with a triple. The plate umpire called time.

  “Nice hit, Marlee,” Coach Spears congratulated her with a clap on the back. “I had to stop you. It would have been a close play at home, and I can’t risk you getting injured.”

  “That’s okay,” Marlee panted. “I’m tired anyway.” She took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully.

  “And this way you hit for the cycle. Way to go, kiddo,” Coach Spears added. She stepped back into her coaching box and wrote something in her scorebook.

  “The cycle? My dad told me what that was, but I forgot.” Marlee didn’t have time to get an explanation from her coach because Lisa stepped up to the plate and smacked a homer over the center field fence. She smacked the ball so far it hit the high school building, just like Susie’s grand slam had done. The fans, and Lisa had many, exploded in frenzied excitement.

  In the top of the seventh and final inning, Marlee threw nine pitches to strike out the side. Game over, victory secured, Lisa ran to the pitcher’s circle and went nose to nose with Marlee.

  Through her catcher’s mask Lisa yelled, “Nice win, Marlee.”

  “Yeah,” Marlee snarled back. Lisa whipped off her catcher’s mask and her long dark braid swung wildly as they growled and bared their teeth at each other. Marlee threw an arm around Lisa on their way to the high-five line with the Northwood team.

  Jeri jumped on Marlee from behind once they were through the high-five line. “All-County Pitcher!”

  “Thanks,” Marlee said. “Nice base stealing today.”

  Jeri nodded in thanks. “And girl, that was an awesome last inning. Three strikeouts in a row.” Jeri high-fived her.

  Lisa added, “Yeah, but—”

  “But I walked too many batters this game.” Marlee finished Lisa’s sentence. Lisa nodded in agreement.

  Jeri persisted. “Yeah, but you hit for the cycle, too.”

  “What is that?” Marlee asked perplexed.

  “So naïve,” Jeri answered. “It’s when you hit one of each: a single, double, triple, and a homer. Too bad it wasn’t a grand slammer. You know, like...” she gestured in the general direction of East Valley, “what’s her name.”

  “Uh, yeah,” Lisa teased. “What’s up with that, Marlee? Slackin’?”

  “Oh, shut up. Both of you.” Marlee eyed each one in turn. “C’mon, let’s go to the locker room.”

  Just as the words came out of her mouth, Coach Spears appeared.

  “Marlee. Real nice hitting today.”

  “Thanks, Coach.”

  “Can you come by my office as soon as you get your equipment?” And then her coach purposely turned from Marlee and looked to the parking lot. Marlee followed her gaze and gasped. Bobby was in the parking lot lounging against the hood of his Camaro. She had not seen him earlier. Marlee was embarrassed that Coach Spears heard her reaction at seeing him.

  “Okay, Coach,” she stumbled. “Can I talk to Bobby first? I’ll just be a second.” Maybe Bobby wanted to apologize for his no-show on Saturday, but Marlee didn’t know if she was ready to forgive him.

  “Of course.” Coach Spears turned toward the school. “I’ll be in my office.”

  The rain clouds made good on their threat. Marlee, Jeri, and Lisa picked up their equipment and jogged toward the girls’ locker room through the now-falling drizzle. Marlee veered toward Bobby while Jeri and Lisa headed up the steps leading to the locker room. Jeri and Lisa held their softball bags over their heads to ward off the light rain.

  Jeri called back, “Marlee, do you still want me to drive you home?”

  “Uh...” Marlee stopped and shuffled her feet. “Just hang out, okay?”

  “Okay.” Jeri’s tone was guarded.

  Marlee watched her friends go up the steps together. She turned toward the empty
ing parking lot. As she approached Bobby, he slid off the hood of the car and waited for her. In the twenty seconds it took for her to reach him, a thousand different thoughts went through her head. Why hadn’t he called? Why was he here now? And why was he hanging out in the parking lot and not sitting in the bleachers watching the game?

  She shifted her softball bag to her other shoulder. Bobby looked good leaning against his Camaro, red letterman’s jacket unsnapped. His strawberry blond hair golden even in the light drizzle.

  “Nice game,” Bobby said when Marlee got closer.

  Uneasy, she answered, “Yeah, I finally got some strikeouts in the last inning.” This was small talk and Marlee knew it.

  “Marlee?” He looked down at his shoes with sudden interest.

  Marlee feared the worst. “What’s up?”

  “Marlee,” Bobby began again, “I think we’re in different places in our lives.” He paused.

  “Yeah?”

  “Look. I hate to break us up, but we’re going in different directions.”

  Marlee stared at him, too shaken to say anything.

  “Look,” Bobby continued. “You don’t have time for me like you used to. You have softball and now these girls’ nights.”

  Marlee heard the disdain in his voice when he said girls’ nights.

  Before she could respond, he blurted, “Look, Marlee, I’ve met someone. A girl from Southfork. I can’t see you anymore.” He turned to go. “I’m sorry.” He got into his car, started the engine, and screeched his exit from the Clarksonville High School parking lot.