The field in New Poland drifted with fluff from cottonwood trees. Half her team was sneezing before the game even began, and the remaining Flood Girls unaffected by allergies were skittering, sliding across the piles of pollen that collected in their cleats. The fluff was everywhere, floating down in great motes, catching the wind and blowing into the faces of her starting lineup. Laverna swore she saw a great pile of it, rolling across the field like tumbleweed.
In the dugout, Diane was complaining about her new boyfriend. “He’s just not very romantic,” she said, and pulled her knee high socks furiously. “I like to have men court me.”
Ginger rolled her eyes and addressed Laverna, who was denying the tickle in her nose and eyes were related to the cottonwood. She was tougher than allergies. “Diane is dating her doctor.”
“He’s not just a doctor,” said Diane. “He’s a specialist.”
“Gynecologist,” declared Ginger.
“He’s already seen the goods,” said Laverna. “There’s no romance left.”
Laverna’s attention was distracted by Martha Man Hands, who had already disobeyed. She saw Martha ordering candles through the chain link from an industrious young woman. Martha also made promises to attend a Pampered Chef party, even though Laverna knew Martha had never cooked, just brought home day-old corn dogs and congealed nachos from the gas station.
“Scram!” Laverna slammed her hand against the chain link, and the saleswoman left in a hurry. Laverna knocked the beer out of Martha’s hand, told her to focus on the game.
Once again, Rachel was useless in the outfield, wearing her ridiculous gothic wardrobe and refusing to move, the cottonwood fluff creating a crown around her long blond hair. After the second inning, Laverna sat her daughter down on the bench, attempted an inspiration speech.
“Every woman on this team has seen how fast you can move,” said Laverna. “When you want something, I mean.”
“This is sports,” said Rachel. “I warned you.”
“You’ve already got a reputation,” said Laverna. “I think you’ve broken nearly all the Ten Commandments. Let’s not add sloth to the list.”
“I don’t covet my neighbor’s husband,” said Rachel.
“You live next door to Bert,” Laverna pointed out.
“That’s true,” said Rachel.
Thankfully, Shyanne was there. The Flood Girls were worthless, and Laverna sent Shyanne out into right field, to control the damage. Rachel never had to swing a bat.
In addition to their tenacious business acumen, the women from New Poland At-Home Sales were fierce on the field. To make matters worse, several residents of Quinn had gone to the city council, asking that Red Mabel be suspended, or fined. They claimed she had started the fight, and nearly injured several children. None of this was true, of course, but Red Mabel was determined to play the rest of the season. Chastened by the warning, Red Mabel was solicitous as she tagged out runners to third, apologizing profusely. Laverna was disgusted. In the fifth inning, she requested a time-out and called Red Mabel in from the field.
In the dugout, Laverna begged. “Shake it off,” she said. “You’re the beast of this team, and we’re getting creamed. Fuck the city council.”
“I can’t pay any fines,” said Red Mabel.
“I’m sure you could trade some pelts or something,” said Laverna. “I don’t really give a shit. If it comes down to it, we’ll sue.”
“I don’t have very good luck in court,” pointed out Red Mabel.
“Fuck ’em,” said Laverna. “Go out there and kill somebody. I’ve got a savings account.” She punched Red Mabel on the shoulder. At this, Red Mabel began to howl, despite the double takes from the New Poland At-Home Sales. She trotted out to third base and proceeded to elbow and spit at any runners who dared come near.
Despite the return of their beast, the Flood Girls could not combat the onslaught of heavy hitters.
Bucky called the game at the top of the sixth inning, as they had been completely shut out, seventeen to zero. This was known as the mercy rule.
When the game ended, the Mary Kay ladies were the worst. As both teams shook hands in a long line, a league ritual that ended every softball game, the Mary Kay ladies seemed to be laughing at them, and this was bad sportsmanship. Laverna was worried that Red Mabel would rip out their earrings.
* * *
Laverna rode home with Tabby Pierce and the Sinclairs.
She and Tabby talked about the Clinkenbeard kid, and how it was proving impossible to get any restitution from his derelict family. Even when Red Mabel stood on their front porch, armed with a crossbow, the Clinkenbeards offered up only jars upon jars of pickled tomatoes. They claimed that they didn’t have any money, and Red Mabel threatened to kill all their chickens if they didn’t pay Laverna back within the month.
“That’s like two hundred chickens,” said Tabby Pierce. “Red Mabel couldn’t shoot them all. Chickens move fast.”
“Red Mabel has a machine gun,” said Laverna.
A peep, much like a baby chicken, came from the backseat of the car.
The Sinclairs had been silent until then, as always. Not even a sniffle.
The taller Sinclair tapped Laverna on the shoulder.