“She has a pretty face,” said Martha. “She takes after her mother.”
At this, they all laughed, even Laverna.
“I think she’s afraid of life,” said Ginger.
“When did you get so profound?” Laverna asked the question and nodded at Red Mabel for another drag.
“She used to not be afraid of anything,” said Tabby. “I watched her pierce her ear in the middle of algebra class.”
“I remember that,” said Laverna. “She put a goddamn fishing tackle in the hole.”
The door opened, and in came the silver miners, off shift, covered in the powder of vermiculite. The women had somehow captured a baby mountain lion, leashed to a length of clothesline. Laverna did not allow animals at the bar, but she was too intrigued to argue.
“When did she get so scared?” This question came from Red Mabel, of all people. The silver miners took their customary spot beside the jukebox. Tabby excused herself to pour some pitchers.
“Dunno,” said Laverna. “I don’t care if she doesn’t catch the ball. I just don’t want her covering her face like that. The other teams will die of laughter.”
“Take her glove away,” offered Martha.
“Against the rules,” said Red Mabel. Laverna watched as the silver miners fed the mountain lion pieces of beef jerky from their pockets. She watched as the dirtiest silver miner reached into her heavy coat and removed a can of Fancy Feast.
“We need to get her drunk,” said Ginger.
“She doesn’t do that anymore,” said Laverna. “Or so she claims.” The lid was removed from the Fancy Feast, and the silver miners whistled when the cat hissed out and swiped a paw at the can, which they kept out of reach.
“Crazy bitches,” said Red Mabel, as they all turned to watch the silver miners and the cub. The tiny mountain lion looked as tough as the silver miners. They were ferocious, desperate, and wild-eyed women. They drank too much, and had too little to do.
“She’s sober,” said Laverna. “I think it’s a good thing. You all have heard what she’s capable of.”
“She fucked the entire volunteer fire department,” said Red Mabel.
“Not all of them,” said Laverna. “That’s a lie.” Red Mabel put the cigarette back in Laverna’s mouth, as Tabby deposited the pitchers of beer in front of the silver miners, making a wide berth around the mountain lion.
Tabby returned to their table, shaking her head. “They’d better tip extra tonight,” she said.
“Let’s find her a man,” said Martha. “Some dude who will help her take the edge off. Somebody to distract her.”
“She has one,” said Red Mabel. “He’s a twelve-year-old little pansy.”
“I don’t like that word,” said Ginger. “It’s not appropriate. They like to be called gay now. I know these things.”
“How?” Red Mabel demanded. “How do you know these things?”
“I can afford cable, you bitch.” Ginger’s tone had an edge to it, and Laverna couldn’t help but wonder about Ginger’s son, who had fled to California after graduation, never married. The silver miners were clapping now, as the cat sat up on her hind paws, balanced on her tail, coiled in a tough little spring.
“Enough,” said Laverna. “Do we know any eligible bachelors?”
“Bucky,” said Martha.
“Bucky,” said Tabby.
“What?” said Bucky, who, unbeknownst to them, had entered the bar, in the sneaky way he always did. Bucky was underage and had an irrational fear the cops would bust him, even though volunteer firemen of any age were always absolved, and he only drank soda anyway. “Can I get a drink?”
“Have a seat,” said Laverna. “Tabby, get him whatever he wants.”
“Diet Coke,” he said.
“Diet Coke?” asked Red Mabel. “What the fuck is happening to this town?”
Bucky sat down next to Laverna. He looked more nervous than usual, surrounded by women who were obviously scheming.
“We need your help,” said Laverna.
“Look,” said Bucky. “I can’t help you with any more practices. The other teams are gonna think I’m partial to you, and an ump can’t be partial. It’s called a . . .” He paused.
“Conflict of interest,” said Ginger. “You can’t hit for shit anyway.”
“Hey,” protested Bucky. “I’m a volunteer. Respect that.”
“I need to ask you something,” said Laverna. “And I need you to not run your mouth.”
Bucky gulped. “Okay,” he said.
“How do you feel about my daughter?”
Bucky examined the faces of the other women and carefully considered his response. “She’s nice enough. And smart. She’s got me thinking about giving up red meat.”
At this, Red Mabel spat on the ground.
“Not like that, Bucky,” said Laverna. “I need to know if you find my daughter attractive.”
“Shit yes,” said Bucky. “I ain’t blind. Just concerned about my cholesterol. I definitely am going to stop eating so many hamburgers. And do you know where hot dogs come from?”
“Shut the fuck up,” said Red Mabel. “Do you wanna screw her or not?”