Charlotte Figg Takes Over Paradise (14 page)

She twisted her lips into a wrinkled prune. "He's a pip. That's just what he wants people to believe. He's nothing more than a manager."

"But I write my rent checks to Biddy Properties."

"Me," she said with another wave of her hand. "The old biddy."

"So you sold me that broken down—"

Hazel laughed. "Sorry about that." Her face fell, and I couldn't tell if she was sad or amused. "I didn't know Fergus did that 'til after it was done. But it all worked out."

"So Fergus fills you in on everything around here."

"That's right."

We talked for a few more minutes, and I told her that I would bring papers from the league for her to sign.

"Don't bring them here, for goodness sake. Take them to the factory and have Mr. Vangarten sign them."

"Vangarten? Cash Vangarten?" I said.

"You know him? He's my director of operations. He'll sign anything I tell him."

My heart fluttered and I had to will myself not to turn pippin red. "I met him the other day. He coaches a team."

"Where on earth did you meet Cash Vangarten?"

"In Shoops. At the Pink Lady. I was looking for information about joining a league. He told me where to go and all about his team. The Thunder, I think."

Hazel chuckled and slapped her knees. " 'Spect to see some fireworks in the league this year."

"Do you sponsor his team too?"

She got off another good laugh. "No, no. That's where the fireworks will come in. He's been asking me for three years running now."

"And you keep refusing?"

"I got my reasons."

I let it go at that and we finished our pie with a few more laughs. "Thank you, Hazel," I said. "The team will be so happy . . . and grateful."

She put her finger to her lips. "Now, this is our secret. They don't need the details."

"Okay. But why?"

"I just like it that way. A girl has to have her secrets."

I kissed her cheek. It was warm and old and tasted like orange blossom dust. "Thank you, Hazel. I can't wait to tell the team."

She put a gnarled finger to her lips. "Just remember our secret. And bring me pie and win a few games, okay, Charlotte?"

She looked tired. "Maybe you should take a nap."

"I just might do that."

A
sking me to keep a secret was a little like asking Lucky not to pee on the maple tree. But on my way across the street I decided that I would do my level best not to tell a soul about Hazel Crenshaw and the Elsmere Elastic Factory, even though I knew folks would ask how I got them to sponsor the Angels. I would have to lie or come squeaky close to lying in order to protect dear, sweet Hazel.

"Yoo-hoo, Charlotte." It was Rose's yoo-hoo. "I was looking for you all morning. Have you seen the ball field?"

"Not yet."

"Asa and Studebaker and whoever else he got to help have done a fine job. A fine job. You must go take a look."

"Okay, okay. He said he was picking up some of the equipment today."

"Well, that explains why he's gone. But let's get Ginger and go on over to Edwina and Thomasina's."

"Let me go inside and freshen up first."

"Freshen up? Where were you?"

"I was just over at—I mean, I just went for a walk."

Rose looked at me with eyes that said, "Now that's a fib, Charlotte."

My tongue had started to ache because I had to bite it so hard to keep from spilling the beans. "I'll be right out, Rose. Just need to freshen up."

I left her standing outside because I needed to catch my breath and think a minute. This was quite a morning, meeting Hazel, learning about the factory, having her agree to sponsor and all. I needed a sip of cooking sherry.

After I composed myself, I went back to Rose.

"Let's go," I said. "I can't wait to see the ball field."

"Just you wait. The Lord has come through in mighty ways. I told you he would."

"He certainly has. You have no idea."

"What are you talking about, Charlotte Figg? You look awfully suspicious, like you have a secret to tell. Now, where were you just now?"

"You'll find out with the rest of the team. Now come on—" I grabbed her arm, "Let's go see the field."

We passed by Rose's trailer and saw Ginger standing near the giant hand. We waved. She waved.

"Come on," Rose called. "We're going over to the Frost sisters' to see the new field. It's a doozy."

I lingered near the hand a second and whispered, "Thank you."

My father took me to Phillies games when I was a kid. Lots of them. But I will never forget the very first time I saw a major league baseball park in person. My father and I weaved our way through a series of gates and around the stadium until we came up through a darkened tunnel to the stands. I stood there shaking. I had never seen anything so big and so green and so bright in my life. I couldn't breathe. Connie Mack Stadium was the prettiest thing on earth. But as incredible as that experience was, looking out over Angel Field that afternoon was even more so. Perhaps because it was ours, because it was handpicked and handmade by friends. We all stood there staring, and I knew none of us wanted the feeling to vanish.

Rose took my hand. "That Asa. He did a fine job, Charlotte."

"It's beautiful," Ginger said.

"Connie Mack, eat your heart out," said Edwina who was wiping tears from her eyes.

"Where on God's earth did he find such green, green grass?"

"You think Pa would approve?" Thomasina asked.

Edwina scratched her head. "Maybe. Can't tell. We are using his wheat field for ball playing and all that—"

"But leastways we are using it." Thomasina turned to me."Pa always said us girls would never be able to keep the farm the way it was supposed to be kept."

"And we didn't," Edwina said.

Rose put her hand on Thomasina's shoulder. "You made it better."

I wanted to walk out on the field, but it was so new I didn't want to touch it and maybe harm the new sod. Asa would let us know when it was ready for traipsing. He knew just how much care the fledgling grass would need before we could go tromping around on it.

Ginger wasn't quite so sensitive, and she took off around the infield kicking up new dirt into small clouds and wisps.

"Ginger," I called. "Maybe we should wait."

She rounded third base and stopped. She was indeed fast.

"How come?" she called as she rounded third and headed for home.

"It's not cured or something. Might need a day or two."

She took her time getting back to us. "That was exhilarating."

I ventured closer to the outfield and knelt down. I brushed my palm lightly over the blades. "Don't know why they call them blades of grass," I said. "This is so soft. Like cotton."

"Swabs," called Rose. "They are swabs of grass."

"That's right," I said. "Swabs."

Edwina called, "Here come Asa and Stu. Looks like his truck is packed down but good."

Sure enough, Asa started off-loading bright white bases, a rubber home plate, bats, balls, a catcher's mask and pads, even a chalk machine to draw lines, and a batter's box.

"I got the chalk machine cheap," Asa called. "It's been used quite a bit but still works great."

Next they unloaded a batting cage, wheeled it near home plate, and locked it into place. Rose and I took the bases and distributed them around the infield.

"Now, you know we'll have to measure them," Asa called.

"I know. Sixty feet."

And so it went for the next hour or so. But when all was said and done, Angel Field was just about the prettiest thing I had ever seen.

We stood on the sidelines and gazed at our masterpiece like it was a Monet. But the spell was broken when the Frost sisters, who had been supplying us with iced tea and Cokes all morning, took on a glum expression.

"What's wrong with Thomasina?" Rose asked. "She looks so sad."

"So does Edwina," I said. "What's happening to everyone?"

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Are you all just so happy that you're crying?"

I thought there might have been some kind of emotional backsplash after such hard work, but when Ginger, usually a firecracker no matter what, plopped herself on the grass and started to cry, I got really worried. Half my team was breaking down.

"Come on," I said. "Someone tell me what's wrong."

"Fine field," Edwina said. "Too bad nobody'll ever play on it. Not for real."

"What in tarnation are you jabbering about?" I asked.

"We still need a sponsor," Rose said. "I was up in God's hand nearly all night asking for it, praying for His will to be done in the life of the Angels and I suppose this is it. All dressed up, nowhere to go."

I chuckled. "Why, Rose Tattoo, I am ashamed of you."

"Me?"

"You've been saying all along that no job is too big when God is around."

Edwina snuffed back tears. "What's that got to do with Angel Field?"

"I have some very good news," I said.

They brightened up. Ginger jumped up like a jack-in-thebox."News? Why didn't you tell us?"

"I don't know. We got so busy with the field and equipment. That reminds me, Asa, we'll need a locker or a shed of some sort to keep the bats and balls and such in. Something waterproof."

"No problem, Charlotte. Now, you better tell us your news before these ladies throw a conniption fit."

I noticed him rub his left shoulder and wince.

"You all right?"

He seemed embarrassed. "It's nothing. Just the darndest thing sometimes. After a hard day's work it aches clear down to where my fingers and wrist should be."

Phantom pain. That was what Rose called it.

"Well, maybe this will help you feel better." I took a swig of Coke. "We have a sponsor."

The small group cheered so loud I half expected the rest of the team to come running out. "Who? Who did you get? Not Fergus Wrinkel?" Rose asked.

"Now, please don't ask a boatload of questions; just accept a gift as a gift and never mind about the particulars. And no, not Fergus Wrinkel."

"Now you're just sounding mysterious," Rose said.

"But that's precisely the way God prefers to work," Thomasina said. "In mystery and might. Mystery and might."

"Can you at least tell us who?" Rose asked.

"Uh, yeah," Ginger said. "I mean we will have their name on our uniforms."

"Elsmere Elastic is our sponsor." I stood straight and tall when I said it, hoping that if I locked my knees tight I wouldn't feel so many butterflies flitting around in my stomach.

"Where the men work?" Ginger said.

"Yep. Where the men work."

"But how?" Asa said. "I can't imagine any of them going to their bosses and asking for such a favor."

"That's not how it happened," I said.

Edwina squinted at me like screwing up her eyes would help her read my mind or something.

"That's all I'm going to say. I'm driving into town this afternoon, or maybe tomorrow—" I stretched my aching back, "goodness gracious but building a ball field is hard work—and I'll get the papers signed and ready to go."

Their faces fell to a state of worriment, but I tried to buck them up. "Just accept the gift." But no one reacted the way I expected. Instead of joy and elation, I saw shock and even horror cross their faces.

"I don't think the husbands are going to cotton to this," Thomasina said finally, revealing the heart of the matter. "They aren't about to mix work with their wives; you know what I mean?"

I felt my forehead wrinkle. "Why would that matter?"

"Well, think about it, Charlotte," she said. "The husbands are none too keen on the women playing softball in the first place, and now to have their employer, the largest employer in Shoops, sponsor them?"

That was when I felt my own countenance fall. I thought they'd be whooping for joy. "I don't understand. I thought you'd be happy."

"We are, sort of," Edwina said. "It's just that the men could get pretty riled and maybe keep their wives from playing."

"They could try," Thomasina said. "They are not going to like this. No siree Bob, not one iota." She brushed her hand through her short blonde hair. "I can just hear our Pa. 'Tommy, he'd say, 'no good can from this. No good at all.' "

"It won't happen like that," I said, and I started to walk off the field like I was just ejected from the game.

"Charlotte," Rose called. "Don't be like that. You don't understand."

"I can hardly believe it," I talked right out loud to myself the whole way home. "Go through all this trouble only to have them poop on it like it was—" Just my good fortune and timing because I had just that second felt my foot stomp on what was most likely a pile of dog poo, probably from a big dog.

I emerged from the woods near the Wrinkel trailer with most of the mess scraped from my sneaker, but it still reeked. And speaking of reek, Fergus stood near his pickup. My stomach tightened. I suspected Hazel had already told him the news.

"If you have anything to say about it, Fergus, just keep it to yourself. It's none of your dang blame business."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play coy with me. You know perfectly—"

Suzy appeared at the front door wearing a paisley scarf on her head and an A-line shift dress with absolutely no charm. She clutched her right arm like it was hurt.

"You okay?" I called. I gave a quick glance to Fergus.