The Flood Girls stood up in the dugout as Red Mabel tore through the bleachers, beer flying everywhere as she took hold of some woman’s hair and yanked her down the steps. Jake wished it had been the troglodyte, but Red Mabel’s anger was never accurate.
The crowd was on their feet, shouting out profanities, and yet Rachel just stood there, waiting for a pitch that would never come.
Two other women jumped on Red Mabel’s back, which was a mistake. They surely should have known better. One got an elbow to the mouth, and the other was thrown through the air and slid across the wooden steps.
Jake shrieked and ran just as the beer started being thrown, as four volunteer firemen took each one of Red Mabel’s limbs and dragged her from the bleachers. She cursed and spat in their faces.
The volunteer firemen pulled Red Mabel into the grass, and two of them sat on her. Red Mabel managed to bite one of the firemen, and that was when Bucky finally called the game, over after two innings.
Rachel calmly walked back to the dugout. She dropped the bat in the dirt as if nothing had happened.
After the crowd dispersed, Jake walked onto the field and tried to hand over his scorebook to Bucky, who frowned and kicked at the dirt around home plate. Bucky threw his count clicker to the ground.
The Flood Girls were silent as Jake approached the dugout. The women were packing up their duffel bags. Martha and the Sinclairs were already gone. Laverna comforted Red Mabel. The gauze on Laverna’s calf was perfectly white. Jake wondered if the dog had even drawn blood.
Jake stepped into the dugout and grabbed Rachel’s hand.
“You should probably come with me,” he said. “If anybody tries anything in the parking lot, I can give an excellent and accurate witness statement.”
The parking lot was still full of vehicles, but they made it to Rachel’s truck without incident. There were a few catcalls, but the riot Red Mabel caused seemed to temper them a bit. For a full minute, Rachel sat in her truck and stared out at the empty field. If she was going to drive, this would not do. Jake shook her arm, until she turned, and regarded him with heavy eyes.
“There’s something you need to see,” he said.
“I’m not in the mood,” said Rachel.
“Please,” he protested. “We need to flee this scene. As soon as possible.”
“I just want to go home,” she said.
“They could be waiting for you there.”
Silently, she turned the key in the ignition and followed his directions.
* * *
At the cemetery, they stood in front of Frank’s plot.
“I haven’t seen this before,” said Rachel. “That makes me feel like an asshole.”
“I loved him,” said Jake. “He was the only man who was ever nice to me.”
They stared down at the plot; clumps of grass emerged, and dande-lions had popped up, beginning their march to take over the bare soil.
“I don’t know what to say about today,” said Rachel. “I guess I was kind of expecting it this whole time, to tell you the truth.”
Jake reached out for her hand. “You remind me of him,” he said. “Good and bad. You’ve taken really good care of me, and you don’t have to. But today you had that look in your eye.”
“What look?”
“Frank got that look sometimes. Like he wanted to burn everything down. Like he was staring past everything already and he could see the ashes.” Jake stared at Rachel until she looked at his face. “He had that look the last time I saw him.”
“I don’t want to burn anything down,” said Rachel. “I’m done with destroying things.”
“Exactly,” Jake said, and continued to hold her hand, as the sounds of a riding lawn mower began, and they both ignored it.
When they drove back through town, they saw the dog. It ignored the nonexistent traffic, and galloped across Main Street, still on the run.
Fireman’s Ball, 1981
As sixth period finally ended, Rachel drew a pentagram in the center of the pig, the only mark on the paper. The rest of the biology class actually dissected pigs, and the room was filled with the sounds of popping and ripping. Rachel refused. Her pig remained on Mr. Tyler’s desk, Saran wrapped in a cake pan. Her customized assignment was to consult her textbook and draw the circulatory system. She also refused to do this, and put on her toughest face when the bell rang. She entered the halls of her high school, a place where she had once been beloved. She sought protection in the freshmen corridor, walking to the last period of the day, study hall. Before, being wasted and slutty had been charming, had elevated her status. But crossing Laverna was unforgivable. Parents had apparently warned their children to stay far, far away from her, had encouraged them to say awful things right to her face, to scrawl terrible things on her locker door. She thought that the girls in her class would eventually get their fill, would gobble up all the blood in the water. A year later, the knives were still out.
After class, Rachel just wanted to get the hell out of the building, go home, and get ready for the Fireman’s Ball. She was going tonight, despite Black Mabel’s and Krystal’s warning her of the carnage.