Another Saturday Night Pt. 01

By the end of the day it was down to the last two teams playing for first place. One was Connie's team and the other from Centerville. The Centerville team was an interesting mix. Though that small community was basically farmers there were three black girls on the team. Sisters and daughters of the local feed mill owner. A white guy married to a Jamaican gal. The game was intense and close. It was tied at 3 with a runner on third and two outs in the last inning. Centerville had their best hitter in the box, a gal they called a slap hitter.

I was watching Connie as she slowly moved away from the base toward home plate. I asked Ellis why she was going so far from the base, he leaned in close.

"Cuz the batter is going to bunt. They did this three weeks ago. Everybody knows she's a slap hitter and are expecting a swing. With the girl on third Connie will head for home plate to stop the run."

Sure as shit she bunted, the catcher was on the ball, Connie was at home plate and the runner was three feet away from home plate. The catcher threw the ball, Connie swiped across the runner's ankle as she slid into home plate. Her foot was easily three inches from the plate when Connie's glove made contact, the plate ump called her safe. The crowds went wild, Centerville's because they had won the tournament, us because we'd had clearly been robbed. I should have kept my mouth shut when I said to Ellis loud enough for others to hear.

"I wonder how much they paid the ump because he was surely bought and paid for."

People were standing to leave when I noticed a black lady three rows down from us. A cute face, long curly hair, and a look on her face that could kill. She stared at me as she stood, putting her left fist tight to her chest. With the other hand she was making a cranking motion as she slowly raised the middle finger of her left hand. The look on her face was one I felt bordered on hate. I wondered if the girl who had slid into home plate and was clearly out but called safe was somehow related. The woman facing me was far too young to be her mother. Maybe she was a close friend.

I ignored her gesture and grabbed my cooler. Walking behind the bleachers toward my truck who should step out of the shadows but miss middle finger. Blocking my path she pointed a finger at me and stated.

"You need to get your eyes checked white boy."

Before I could answer she was on her way elsewhere in a hurry. Ellis was a few feet behind me and asked.

"What the fuck was that? Who pissed in her cornflakes?"

I shrugged, "Got me. Can you imagine being married to that? It would be a pissing match every day. Are all black girls like her?"

Ellis shrugged, "Got me, Connie and me started dating our sophomore year, never been out with another girl."

On the way home the three of us stopped for a burger and fries at Smokies Pub before they split for home in another direction. When I brought up the last play of the game Connie shrugged.

"I'm sure I tagged her, but it wasn't my call. It isn't worth losing sleep over."

I was curious. "Who is she anyway? I don't remember her from the past. She seems meaner than a junk yard dog."

Quickly swallowing a fry she answered, "She's the runner's cousin, used to play before she blew her knee out. Now leave me alone so I can eat these fries before they get cold."

Ellis picked up the conversation, "She played second base for Three Rivers. Damn she was good, never saw any one play that position better than her."

Second base, that's what my Louise had played. I needed to know. "Was she better than Louise?" I asked.

Ellis said nothing, Connie put her beer glass down, cocked an eyebrow and spoke, "Yes Leon, as much as you don't want to hear this. She was better than Lou. And you'd better get used to her shitty attitude towards guys. She's at every game her cousins play."

Driving the rest of the way gave me ample opportunity to think about what had happened. My initial thoughts were of a pissed off nature. Why did she think she needed to give me the finger? And what was that "white boy" comment all about? I hadn't said anything about her brown skin. I thought everyone was supposed to be aware of racial mistakes of the past and make an effort to live in harmony. That was a memo she apparently never received. I remembered Connies words as I pulled in the driveway, it wasn't worth losing sleep over.

Butch is a black man that had worked for my dad for eleven years and now worked for me. Not only was he the senior man he was also the most knowledgeable, I looked to him time and again for info and wisdom. I decided to ask Butch if I had racial tendencies, he had known me from a kid and would certainly tell me the truth. I was typically in the office by six-thirty and Butch was never more than fifteen minutes behind me even though the crews didn't start until seven. He used that time to set things up and from time to time we would talk.

This Monday was one of those talking moments. I told him of the game incident and then asked.

"Butch, do you think I have racial issues? Do I treat you differently because you're a black man?"

He laughed, "No boss, we good. If you were racist I wouldn't be working for your scrawny white ass. I know that girl you 'talkin 'bout. Damned good ball player, too bad she blew her knee out in college. Don't pay her no mind, she's bitter at the world. Now the white boy thing, I know there's a reason, but you'll need to take that up with her."

I laughed, "In a pigs eye. I plan to stay as far from her as possible. She's pretty on the outside but with her flippin me off I gotta wonder if she's ugly on the inside. I don't even want to try to get to know someone like her."

Butch chuckled, "Like I said Leon, pay her no mind."

As he walked away he began to belly laugh. I shouted, "What the hell is that about?"

He stopped and turned, "I was just thinkin what a hoot that would be if she ends up being the one you lookin for."

I scoffed, "Not a chance in hell Butch, not a chance in hell."

I decided to skip the next two weekend tournaments and stayed around home. There was yard work to take care of, windows to wash and a few minor repairs. Three of the kitchen cabinet handles were loose and I had been ignoring them for weeks. On the third weekend I covered Saturday mornings calls for one of the guys who had a funeral to attend. The first call was new rollers, the second was to replace a spring and the third was going to be an opener replacement in Centerville. As I drove I found myself thinking, thank God the witch of the west is at a softball game somewhere and I won't need to worry about running into her.

Man..... I couldn't have been more wrong. Pulling into the driveway all seemed peaceful, the garage door was manually open awaiting my magic fingers to install the new opener. My facial expression must have been one of shock as she opened the door and sneered.

"My God, not you again. What did I do to piss God off?"

It was the girl from the ballgame that had flipped me off, the one wo seemed to hate white guys. Or was it all guys? I had all I could do to not say, "well fuck you to." Instead I put on a plastic smile and asked.

"Is this the Ronnenberg residence? I have a work order to install a new opener."

As she stepped out of the house I moved backward into the garage. "Yeah, this is the place. It's my uncle's house but he's gone to a funeral. He left a check I'll give you when you're done. How long you think this a going to take cuz I sure as hell don't want to be here while you are."

I was ready to tell her to stick it when I remembered mom's words of so many years ago. "It's easier to catch a fly with honey than salt." She was right, I had no beef with this bitter nasty mouthed lady other than a brief encounter weeks ago. I didn't know her and didn't want to. I lowered the garage door and studied what existed, then opened it again.

"Probably an hour give or take fifteen. Why don't you give me your phone number and I'll text you when I'm done?"

She scoffed, "Fat chance white boy. You prolly stalk my ass if I give it to you. Nah, I be back in an hour."

I certainly liked what was walking away from me. She possessed a natural beauty that made it hard to look away. Her figure was solid and perfectly proportioned, she had all right bumps and curves in all the right places. Too bad she was such a nasty foul-mouthed cretin. I laughed to myself as she fired up a 1964 Ford station wagon and pulled away. Wow, things must be rough if all she could afford was that old clunker. Returning exactly one hour later I presented her with the invoice, she walked into the house and exited with a check in hand.

"Where's the remote?" She asked. I held out my hand. She grabbed it and ran the door through two or three cycles.

I was trying to somehow be polite though she was being a bitch.

"Where did you find that '64 wagon? It looks like it's in good shape for being so old."

She snarled, "Oh hell no. That aint mine, that's unc's. He took mine cuz he didn't wanna drive that old hunk of junk. He got more money than two people could spend in a lifetime, he's just too cheap to buy a different car. Nah, that aint mine, I drive a 2019 CRV."

Nice car I thought, she must have a good job to afford a car like that. I contemplated asking what she did for a living. Before I could open my mouth she shoved the check in my hand and demanded.

"Gimme a receipt."

I handed her the invoice for a signature, she scoffed but signed it. I tore off the last page, handed it to her and forced myself to say, "thank you."

She perused the document then looked at me, "Lotta money for a garage door opener. Prolly coulda spent less at the big box store."

I was about at my wits end and ready to tell her to take her shitty attitude and stick it where the sun won't shine. Once again, my dear departed mother's words saved the day. I can remember her saying, "if you don't have something nice to say don't say anything at all."

I closed the invoice folder and said with a calm voice, "I'm sure you could have, but then you would have to install it and there would be no installation warranty. We guarantee our labor for 90 days, and the opener carries a one-year warranty. If it fails, we put in a new one at no cost. Surely that's worth the difference."

Her demeanor seemed to change slightly as she answered, but not much. "Yeah, I suppose. Whatever."

With that she spun on her heels and walked away. Pulling out of the driveway I couldn't for the life of me figure out what I'd done wrong to make her despise me so. Surely one comment said out loud concerning the umpire shouldn't have generated this sort of angst. Then again, maybe she'd had some bad experiences with men and didn't like any of the species. Who knows in this day and age. The following day our towns ladies' team was playing Centerville at home. Not a tournament, one of the regular scheduled league games.

I thought about staying home in case she might be there, I didn't need a public pissing match to ruin the day. That thinking lasted an hour or so, then it hit me. Why am I staying home from something I enjoy just because she might be there? I tossed some ice in the cooler, grabbed a Dr Pepper, a Snickers candy bar and headed to the ballpark. It was more crowded than I anticipated, the bleachers were basically full. Low and behold who was on the bottom row, yup, my new nemesis. I heard someone call my name and looked up, Ellis was waving me to come by him. Thankfully it was the top row of seven, far away from miss nasty ass.

Centerville beat our girls hands down 5-3, two horrible errors by our infield allowed the two winning scores. As my Louise used to say, some days you're the windshield, some days you're the bug. That day our team was the bug. When the game ended Ellis said he was going to find Connie and that he would see me next week. As the bleachers cleared I remained sitting, it would take ten minutes for the parking lot to clear anyway. I noticed my adversary was still seated in the first bench until two of the cousins sat next to her. They chatted and were probably talking about the game when the younger of the two looked my way and smiled. Nothing flirty, just a simple how do you do kind of smile.

Her movement caused miss nasty ass to turn and see what she was looking at. The frown on her face was front and center. I couldn't hear what was being said but it was clear the younger one was getting her butt chewed. That is until the younger one stood staring at her and said loud enough for me to hear.

"You're wrong Bree, completely wrong. They aren't all like that." As she walked away.

All like what I wondered. Nasty ass and the other girl stood and followed. I waited for what I thought was a decent amount of time before descending the bleachers, I was sure they had gone by then. Foolish me, as I walked to the truck I saw movement to my right, sure enough it was her. It then dawned on me they had come in separate vehicles. She looked anything but friendly, I picked up the pace hoping she was heading elsewhere. She had hastened enough that we were now walking side by side. When I reached the truck she put her hand on the door. What the fuck was wrong with this chick I wondered. Had she been a man I'd have dropped her.

I stood back staring at her. It was her show, I was the spectator. She finally blurted out, "Well. You got nothing to say this week?"

I chuckled softly, "Like what?"

She kicked the gravel and inched forward, "Like an apology asshole. Saying the ump was bought off. That's BS and you know it."

I'd had enough, pushing past her I opened the door and stood staring back, "Here's what I know. Your cousin was out by half a foot and the ump was to blind to see it. I've seen enough games to know when someone is out, and that girl was out."

I watched as the anger rose in her facial expression, "Look motherfucker, why you watching women's fast pitch anyway? You some kind of perv looking for your next score?"

I have no idea why but I felt a calmness come over me as I answered, "My wife played and I was at every one of her games. I grew to love the sport, it's much more exciting than regular baseball."

The edges of her mouth formed into a sneer as she asked, "where she at now? She dump your sorry ass?"

That was the last straw, it was time to put this cunt in her place. I grabbed the wrist of the arm holding my door and let her know it was time she backed off.

"She died you foul mouthed bitch. Move away from my truck or I'll run you over."

I was about to pull away when she put a hand on the open windowsill. "Oh shit, I'm sorry." She stated.

I began to edge forward and said to her, "You certainly are" as I picked up speed. She was standing and staring at the truck as I pulled away. The look on her face seemed to be one of confusion, maybe even regret, if there is such a thing in nasty people. Lying in bed later I chastised myself for letting her goad me into our rather terse conversation. I should have walked away and been done with her. What was it about her that made me remain? To that point she had been nothing but mean a foul-mouthed bitch toward me, and I sure as hell had no desire to know anything about her. I'd never dated a black girl, but then how could it be that much different than a white girl. Girls are girls are girls, my dad always said. I was at the office bright and early the next morning. Butch had a grin a mile wide on his face as he entered, and then laughed.

"Heard you got into it with Bree at the game yesterday. She's a piece of work that one is."

I looked at him like a cow at a new gate, "What? How did you know about that? We were the only ones in the lot."

"She called Cathy last night. (his wife) They're related on her dad's side. When Bree's parents died my Cathy kind of became a surrogate mom to her. Bree was in college by then, but everybody needs a mom. They talk a lot."

I sat back, "So what's with her anyway? She's toxic."

"After she blew out her knee she could still play, but not at the college level. She got bitter as time went on. She used to play against Louise you know. She played second base just like your woman did. They were never friends far as I know, but they respected each other."

"Okay, okay." I said. "But she's full of rage and that can't all come from not being able to play ball."

Butch sat, folded his arms and began, "It aint. She got herself involved with a professor at college. Typical jackass. He promised her the world until he got her into bed, then dumped her and moved onto the next one. Yeah, I know it's against the rules, but it still happens. She sort of hates the world right now. She's a sweet girl inside, she just won't let it out, or anyone in."

I needed to know, "What does she do for a living?"

"She teaches English at Waltmoore High."

I laughed out loud, "She's an English teacher and talks trash all the time? How the hell does that work?"

Butch stood, shrugged and stated, "Got no clue. You'd hafta ask her."

When Matilda came in it started all over. "So you fight with that girl in the parking lot eh?"

I looked at her with an expression of exasperation. "Does the entire town know for Christ's sake? And it wasn't a fight, it was more like a tense conversation."

Putting a fresh cup of coffee on my desk she grinned, "Ya, I know vat it is. You like dis one."

I couldn't believe my ears. No way in hell was I interested in her. The whole ebony and ivory thing wasn't ever going to work with us. Yeah, she was cute and her athletic body reminded me so much of Lou, but attracted to her romantically? I don't think so. Besides, she seems to have an aversion to 'white boys' as she had called me. Nope, I'll do my best to steer clear of her and try to enjoy the games I go to watch. I hadn't given her a second thought the entire week. When the weekend came I decided that 40 miles was further than I wanted to drive to watch the girls play, besides, I had yardwork to take care of.

Life went on as usual for the next few weeks, that is until I saw her at a tournament in the next town over. Ellis and I were once again on the top bleacher when Connie was hurt by a girl sliding in with her cleats high. He was down on the field with her in a flash and stayed with her until the ambulance carted her off. The cuts weren't deep but they would need stitches. Within minutes of the incident who should be ascending the bleachers but Bree, miss nasty mouth.

I was thinking 'oh my God I'm trapped', what to do? Get up and leave, sit and wait, be ready to walk away as soon as she sat? I chose to stay seated, when Bree sat next to me she looked sheepish, as though she wasn't sure what to do or say. I decided screw it, one of us has to say something. As much as I didn't want to I muttered.

"Bad slide, they ought to toss her out."

To my surprise she agreed, "It was, and not the first time either. She's gone and knows it, look, she's packing her bag and the ump isn't even over there yet. I can't imagine that Brantwood is going to allow her on the team any longer. No need for that."

I was staring at her sideways. Where was the trash talking bitch I'd become accustomed to hearing? Mind you, I still didn't like her, but if she was going to be civil I was willing to tolerate her presence. As the game resumed I expected her to go back to the lower bleachers where she'd been. Her cousins' team was next in line to play so I figured she'd be down there cheering them on. She didn't though, she stayed right next to me, there was enough space for a few people to sit between us, but she remained seated near me me none the less.

We said no more during the last two innings of the game. When it ended I opened the cooler for a DP and sandwich. She tapped my arm with the back of her hand.