Bishop's Run

by B. D. Gates

  I could only guess what she was thinking, and absolutely none of it was good.

  I put the lid back on my ice cream and put it in the bag with the other cup, then carried them both into the kitchen and put them in the freezer. No sense wasting good ice cream on a bad mood.

  30

  Tess blindly guided the Crown Vic down Main Street. Her thoughts were on Bishop and her mind's eye kept the memory of those bites in her line of sight. She could not believe what she had seen. Bishop's affect wasn't lost on her either. Pulling around to the back of Town Hall, Tess parked her vehicle and went inside. Officer Howard was the Desk Sergeant today.

  "Well, hello, Detective," Officer Howard smiled as Tess entered the department.

  "Hello, Ben," Tess replied as she passed by, not looking up to meet the officer's eyes. She wouldn't have seen them anyway. The only thing she could see were the bites on Bishop's neck and shoulder.

  Officer Howard smiled appreciatively, leaning over the desk, the better to see the diminutive detective in her T and form-fitting blue jeans as he buzzed her through to the bullpen. His day was made, considering it was Sunday and things were slow.

  Tess walked back to her desk and sat down. She was rattled, upset, not knowing if this was something Bishop had wanted, encouraged even. She had fantasized about kissing Bishop, of Bishop taking her to bed, feeling Bishop's hands on her, making love to her, but she had never considered that it would be anything more than soft, sweet. Certainly not that it would be deliberately hurtful.

  What did she really know about Bishop, though? All the time they'd spent together, they'd talked, but neither of them had spontaneously offered up very much personal information. They were alike in that way and she supposed that Bishop knew even less about her. She had the information in Bishop's WP profile, though, which really was not much.

  Tess pulled the file from her desk drawer and began reading it again, looking for anything that would enlighten her. After five minutes she was through, and knew nothing more than she had at the start. She threw the file onto the desk. Maybe she was wrong about Bishop. The person that she was protecting was an enigma, with an evidently more-than-questionable past, and Tess had obviously misjudged her.

  "Bishop..." she whispered. "What are you doing?"

  31

  My mind was not on work. The first game of the season was tonight. The exam rooms were quiet, as were the kennels. Tracey and I moved through the duties of the day, but neither of us had much to say, and I don't know whether it was because we were thinking of the game, or if it was because I had seen her surveying the marks just visible above the collar of my T, under my scrub shirt. There was not much to be seen outright, but underneath was a rainbow of bruising, ranging from light red to deep purple across my shoulders. Fortunately, Dr. Biggs, being about three inches shorter than me, hadn't seen them, but she was a little preoccupied as well.

  I spent a lot of time in the kennels, steering clear of other office members by performing additional duties, such as washing out and disinfecting animal carriers and portable cages on the back deck, stacking them on the walk to dry out in the sun. By three-thirty, I had run out of things to stay busy with, and I found myself solely focusing on the upcoming game. I was beginning to get 'butterflies.' Luckily, it was time to clock out. I called up to the front and told them I was checking out, then headed home.

  The game wasn't scheduled to start until seven, but we were to be there at six-fifteen to start warming up. I had gotten my team baseball shirt from Dr. Biggs that morning and I had tried it on in the office. I threw it in a short cold-water wash. I've never liked wearing new clothes without washing them first.

  I gathered the rest of my gear so that I could get ready quickly when the time came. Still had two hours to kill.

  I grabbed the RC car and took it out in the back yard. I was pushing the dogs' soccer ball around while the girls barked and tried to grab it away. Preoccupied with my 'driving,' I was surprised to look up and see Tess coming through the gate.

  And she was angry.

  "What is this?" She held out a single piece of paper. I took it from her and perused it.

  Uhoh.

  "That's my application for a gun permit," I replied.

  Tess was livid. "You do not need a gun! "

  "I may not need a gun, but there's no reason I can't have one."

  Tess repeated herself. "You do not need a gun!"

  So, maybe it was the agitation I was feeling about the mess with Penny, and I was just being antagonistic, spoiling for a fight, I don't know, but I dug in my heels with Tess. "Tess," I said as I stood up, handed the sheet of paper back to her. "Tell me. Was that permit approved or not?"

  "Well, yes, it was, though I don't understand why, I even double-checked it..."

  "Then why are we having this discussion?"

  "Because you don't need a gun!"

  "Look, what's the big deal? Do you think I'm gonna knock over a..." and I almost said 'grocery store,' catching myself just in time. "...bank? Kidnap someone?"

  "I just don't think you need a damn gun!"

  "Well, ya know, I don't need your permission. Do you honestly believe that I'm going to go off on some kind of 'crime spree,' especially after I've requested a gun permit? Does that even make sense? Seriously. And you, Tess, of all people, should know that I'd never do such a thing."

  "Do I really know that, Bishop? Because I've come to realize that I really know nothing about you."

  I stopped.

  "Tess, come on, you know me. You know more about me than anyone, anyone on this planet."

  "Really, Bishop? I only know what you've told me. I think, though, that I have learned quite a lot lately."

  I looked at her, questioningly. "Why are you so upset?"

  She looked away, shook her head.

  "Tess, at least help me understand what's going on."

  She pulled herself up, stood a little taller, arms crossed, but would not look me in the eye. "It's none of my business, Bishop."

  She was talking about what had happened between Penny and me.

  "Oh, yeah, okay, no, you're right, that is none of your business. I'm not going to discuss that with you."

  "Like I said. Who you sleep with is none of my business. Whatever you're 'into' is none of my business."

  "Look, I'm not into anything, but you're right. It's none of your business."

  "It's absolutely none of my business. What you do...what you like."

  "Wait, now, hold up. You think I asked for that? That I wanted it?" I was getting angry. "Geezus, Tess, did you bump your head when you leaped to that conclusion?"

  "Look, Bishop, I have to think that there is some part of you, maybe some twisted part that pushes you to make the choices you've made, to do the things you've...done."

  "Twisted! Twisted! Okay, now you really have no idea what you're talking about."

  "What I know, what I do know, Bishop, is that you're going backwards, back towards that person you were before you came here. You've obviously made some seriously bad decisions in your life or you wouldn't be where you are today."

  "Oh, yeah, Tess, obviously, yes, I have obviously made bad decisions. You're wrong, Tess, on all counts. You're speculating, poorly, about how I ended up here, what you think I want, and I'd appreciate it if you'd just stop. Right now."

  "Fine."

  "Fine."

  "I'm just...it's...just...what the hell are you doing, Bishop?"

  "Tess, I'm not doing anything. But why does it matter?"

  "What? What do you mean?"

  "I mean, Tess, what the hell does it matter to you what happens to me?"

  Her face reflected sadness, disappointment. "Because, Bishop..." She stopped herself, took a breath, blew it out. I thought I saw a flash of anguish, but it was so quick, I couldn't be sure. Now, she was expressionless, her tone flat. "No, I'm sorry, you're right. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what I think..."

  "No, why don't you just go ahead and
tell me, let's get it all out. What do you think?"

  "I'm just...surprised...that you've...got...certain...preferences."

  "Oh my god, Tess. C'mon. Really? I don't, I don't have such preferences, so just stop." I was shaking my head as I walked over to the RC car and picked it up, turned it off. I walked back to the steps. "I'm not discussing this with you any more. I'm not going to talk about this with you, ever, but I certainly won't while you're in this frame of mind."

  "Frame of mind?"

  "Harsh. Judgmental. Unwilling to listen. You're not being fair. You've convicted me on speculation, but you're right, you know nothing about what's happened to me in my life, what happened between me and Penny, and I have no intention of discussing that with you, ever! So, just go, Tess. Just leave. Now."

  Her face betrayed her, there was a flash of sadness but I could read her now. It wasn't hard. She was angry.

  So was I.

  "Tess, just go! NOW!"

  "FINE!"

  I had pushed Tess to the wall, past rational thinking, because she crumpled up the paper and threw it at me, bouncing it off of my forehead. I don't think it was something that happened to her often, maybe ever, because she seemed to be as shocked as I was that she would do such a thing, but she had, and she couldn't take it back.

  She turned and stalked out the gate. I heard the engine turn over, then a small screech as the tires spun on the asphalt before getting traction.

  She was really, really pissed.

  I was getting that reaction a lot lately.

  32

  I got to the ballpark at about six o'clock, but I stayed in the Jeep until about ten after. I was more than a little rattled after arguing with Tess. I was going to be seeing people who had been at the party, and I had no idea what they knew about Saturday night, what their reactions would be. I knew, though, that I wanted to talk to Penny, to tell her I was sorry.

  I walked into the park. The team was down in the dugout, with clusters of players spread out across the bench. Penny was sitting with Tracey, Harry and Jacks. I looked around, gauging my welcome. Most of the players had no idea what had happened Saturday night, but the ones who could have seemed to look at me with no expressions at all. I took a seat on the farthest end of the bench and kept my head down, not wanting to meet anyone's gaze.

  The game hadn't even started, but there was already a shut-out, and it was not in my favor.

  Coach Biggs and her assistants arrived right behind me and were a little surprised to find such a quiet, solemn group. I suppose they attributed it to nerves. The squads were assigned to different stations and began the pre-game prepping. No one spoke in my group as we made our way through the warm-ups and stretching.

  Only at one point did I come close to Penny, and that was during stretching. She didn't even look my way.

  We all reassembled in the dugout ten minutes before game time. I was still the odd-man-out, as far as my 'tribe' was concerned. I took my seat on the far end of the bench, away from the coach's corner. Coach Biggs called out the starters' names and their positions, which were met with cheers and clapping from the other team members. When she called my name, there was, to me anyway, perceptibly less clapping, as I made my way up the steps and out to right field.

  The ballpark bleachers were packed. The pre-game activities of the singing of the "Star-spangled Banner," and the throwing out of the first pitch were a blur as I did my best to scan the crowd for Tess. I did see Miz Maggie and Jared, and they saw me and waved. I waved back. At least I had some fans watching.

  The Umpire for the game, supplied by the local Parks and Recreation Department, called "Play Ball!" and the game got under way.

  Stacey was pitching. In a matter of minutes, we were back in the dugout.

  In our first at-bat, with two outs, Emily got on base with an opposite-field line drive out to the left-fielder, bringing Penny to the plate. Unlike her usual at-bat, she whiffed three in a row, making the third out. We were back in the outfield.

  Bottom of the second and batting fifth, I managed a full count, but missed an off-speed pitch in the upper part of the strike zone. Harry batted behind me and was unable to get anything going as well.

  By the seventh inning, we were down by one, after the Wheelers managed to get two on and one in. The dugout was quiet, to say the least.

  One more at-bat for us. Penny was at the plate. It was do-or-die for her, and us.

  She struggled to a full count. Last pitch was low and inside. Penny swung.

  Missed.

  Game over.

  33

  Coach Biggs was solemn. The post-game dugout was somber as well.

  "Okay, ladies, the first game is in the rear-view mirror. Don't look back. We've got two days before our next with the Louisburg Lancers. Practice tomorrow night at six o'clock sharp. Baxter and Harris, keep your seats. The rest of you are dismissed."

  Baxter and Harris. Me and Penny. We stayed seated and watched the other players leave. I felt like I was being kept after school.

  Coach Biggs waited until everyone had left and there was no one around to hear what she had to say.

  Penny was sitting at the middle of the bench. I was on the far end. Coach motioned me over and pointed at the space next to Penny. I walked over and took my seat.

  Coach Biggs didn't begin immediately. She looked over the pages on her clipboard for a good minute before she turned and made a point of looking at me, then at Penny, before she started speaking.

  "All right, you two. This is most likely none of my business, but whatever is going on between you has affected my team, so that makes it my business. You are both adults. I don't know what has happened, or who's to blame over what, and I don't want to know, but I am telling you both, right now, to fix it. If you cannot fix it, then you're both off the team. Am I clear?"

  "Yes, ma'am," we answered, practically in unison.

  "Good." She turned and went up the dugout steps, then disappeared from view.

  "Oh, god," I doubled over and exhaled, then straightened back up.

  Penny sat with her legs crossed, her arms folded over her lap, head down, as she examined her manicure.

  "Penny," I started.

  "You're an asshole, Baxter," she said, still considering her nails.

  "Um, okay."

  "You're an asshole and a liar."

  "Penny, wait."

  "What? Are you going to tell me I'm wrong?"

  "No, Penny, I'm not. I'm going to tell you that I am an asshole. I'm an asshole and I cannot tell you how sorry I am for what happened Saturday night. I have never, ever, treated a woman like I treated you, and I'm...I'm so sorry."

  "Baxter," she sighed. "What we had was 'angry sex', you don't have to apologize, and you left out 'liar,'" she reminded me.

  "Penny."

  "Look, Baxter, I know. I know. I checked up on you. I looked at every on-line high school yearbook in Rockville, around Rockville, for the years you should have been there, and guess what? You weren't there. In any of them. I looked at every damn picture in thirty-two yearbooks. Eight high schools for the four years that there should have been a picture of you, somewhere, and there wasn't. No 'Lisa Baxter' on the softball teams or in the class photos. There were only three 'Lisa Baxters' in four yearbooks and none of them were you."

  Sonofabitch. "Okay, Penny, okay." I took a deep breath. "I'm a liar. Let's just leave it at that."

  "So, you're really not Lisa Baxter."

  "Penny, I can't talk about this with you."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I just can't. I can't tell you any more than what you already know. I'm an asshole. I'm a fraud. And I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

  "Baxter, or, whoever you are, I never meant to hurt you, either." She leaned over, moved the collar of my shirt aside, checked out the marks she'd left. "Okay, wow. But oh, my god, you make me so damn mad."

  "Why? What have I done to piss you off so badly?"

  "Baxter," she sighed, "You're lying t
o me, you've been lying to me." She took a deep breath. "If you are not really who you say you are, where you're from, what you're doing here, then how can I trust anything else you tell me to be the truth?"

  Damn.

  She had a point.

  I was quiet as I considered that. "Okay." I took a deep breath. "Okay, Penny, listen. What I can tell you is this--because I was honest, because I told the truth, I ended up here, being 'Lisa Baxter.' And I can tell you that, because of that, 'Lisa Baxter' is honest and trustworthy as well."

  She mulled that over.

  Finally, she looked up at me, into my eyes. She didn't say anything, she just looked. I looked back.

  She really did have beautiful eyes.

  I began to smile.

  Her brow furrowed.

  I smiled more.

  Her brow relaxed and the edges of her mouth began to curl upwards.

  "Penny..." I said, still smiling.

  "You're such an asshole, Baxter," she said, a small smile forming.

  "Agreed," I replied.

  "But, you still look like 'fun'," she sighed.

  By the time we'd left the dugout, the park and the parking lot were very nearly empty. We walked through the gate and stopped.

  "I'm meeting Jacks and Harry at Johnson's for supper," said Penny. "Do you want to come?"

  I thought about that. And decided against it.

  "Yeah, I think I'll pass on that tonight, but next time, okay?" I wasn't ready to face them, considering I had gotten the cold shoulder from them all evening.

  Penny laughed. She understood.

  "So, see you tomorrow night, then," she said, giving me a hug. I hugged her back.

  "Tomorrow night," I agreed. I headed for the Jeep as she walked off towards her MGB.

  I was surprised to see the Crown Vic parked on the other side, Tess leaning against the passenger side door between our two cars.

  "Hey," she said.

  "Hey."

  "Sorry about the game."

  "Yeah, me too."

  "Sorry about this afternoon, too."

  I just nodded. What could I say?