The Geezer Quest: World After Geezer: Year Two

by Penn Gates

  “You think I took drugs while I was pregnant?” Cindi struggles to sound outraged.

  “Of course I do. Now please stop talking so I can get this exam over with.”

  Why am I drawing this out? Lisa wonders. If I discover she has a bad heart or lung cancer, it will only make what comes next that much harder. She considers what she’s about to do one last time before preparing the hypodermic.

  “I’m going to give you a B-12 shot,” she explains. “You’re really run down.”

  “When will you get the results of the tests?” Cindi asks, as if the blood sample will be sent out to a lab somewhere.

  “I’ll try to do the work up as quickly as possible,” Lisa answers shortly and administers the sedative.

  She fights back tears of shame as she opens the lab’s door and calls to Holden, “You can come get her. She’s dead to the world.”

  CHAPTER 21: Game Called On Account Of Injury

  Lisa shields her eyes to watch a pop fly arc through the sultry afternoon air before it’s caught by Holden. Who knew that sitting on the grass on a Sunday afternoon could be so much fun? She’s come to enjoy the weekly ball games and visiting with the women of St Clair farm - well, most of them, anyway. She glances surreptitiously in the direction of the bleachers where Brittany is enthusiastically applauding Holden’s catch. Ever since that day in the pantry, she’s been even more uncomfortable around Holden, and yet unable to prevent herself from filling her eyes with him when he’s near. It’s ridiculous. It’s adolescent.

  The day that Holden had first brought her to this place in that clown car of a VW Beetle he’d found, they’d driven through the Victorian iron arches that marked the entrance to Hamlin Park, with its old-fashioned bandstand. She’d been startled by the low growl of another engine, and then she’d caught sight of Diggs, expertly maneuvering a tractor with a mowing deck. She still smiles at Holden’s explanation. It’s about time Diggs has something constructive to do. And look - he’s making passes that don’t involve women.

  He’d also explained his reason for reclaiming the ball field. These guys have too much energy and not enough to do - that always spells trouble. They can bat the ball around, play some catch. He’d paused dramatically. Or - we can go find out if any of the football players at St Clair farm know how to throw a baseball.

  The games have proven to be what corporate HR departments used to call a team-building exercise. At first, it was the St Clair guys against the squad, but at some point they began mixing and matching players - apparently to create enough weekly uncertainty to give the games suspense. Lisa’s own perspective is quite different. These games have allowed her to get to know Nix St Clair a lot better, and one of the things she loves about her new friend is her razor sharp wit.

  Right on cue, Nix grumbles, “Jesus, it’s about time there’s some action. Every pitch takes forever, what with their pants hitching and crotch grabbing - and I almost forgot the spitting. And playing with their hats. It’s like watching a documentary on Tourette’s Syndrome.”

  “You are a wicked woman,” Lisa says out loud. “Why weren’t you tarred and feathered for political incorrectness before Geezer?”

  “Because I never hung out with anybody but cops,” Nix explains and goes back to waiting for something else to happen as she steers Davey away from the grass he looks intent on eating. “That’s not salad, bud - unless you’re a cow.”

  Behind her, Lisa hears both Janet and Margaret laugh softly at Nix’s remark. Lisa feels a glow of satisfaction. If it was possible to write a prescription for a perfect friend for Janet, Margaret would be it.

  Lisa leans back on her elbows and studies the few wisps of cloud in the washed out blue of the sky. It’s hot and muggy - like the dog days of summer - but the reality is that it’s one of those aberrant days in fall. Tomorrow may well be cool and rainy again. The native Ohioans tell her this is typical. The informal state motto is, If you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes.

  Lisa is brought out of her drowsy musings by George’s voice. Uh-oh - his weekly attempt at engaging Janet in conversation.

  “How are you this fine day, Janet Martin?” she hears him say.

  He sounds like an amateur actor declaiming lines in a bad play. There doesn’t seem to be a spontaneous bone in his body. Lisa, as always, tries to keep in mind that he’s apparently one of those guys so self-conscious around women that they freeze up. But though George acts stiff and unnatural, he certainly does not get tongue-tied - and his fallback is always giving an impromptu sermon. As soon as he starts talking, everyone who can, leaves, and anyone who can’t, waits for the judgement-bomb he’s sure to drop.

  “I am wondering why you have not accepted the invitation to take part in our Sunday services,” George says. “If no one will bring you to the farm, Michael will come and get you.”

  “And have you asked Michael if he is willing to do this?” Margaret asks. “Because he spends Sundays in his own way - as you well know.”

  “Perhaps it would encourage him to attend services himself,” George counters.

  Janet is fidgeting, as she always does around her former fiancé, and stares past him toward the baseball diamond. Lisa follows her gaze just in time to see Tony Marcelli tag someone out on second base.

  “Hey, George,” Lisa says loudly. “How come you don’t play ball with the rest of the guys?”

  “It is Sunday,” George answers shortly.

  “George Shirk, you used to play ball at the young people’s outings on Sunday afternoon,” Janet says. “Why do you do this pretending all the time?”

  George flushes. “I have grown up,” he mutters under his breath. “And put away childish things.”

  Lisa is astonished to see Margaret roll her eyes.

  “George, go sit in the damn bleachers,” Nix says. “I’d be over there myself if the sun wasn’t too hot for Davey.”

  “You must go. I will gladly be watching him,” Margaret says immediately. “This is the last game before harvest time. It will feel very good to be cheering and yelling.”

  “I will stay with Margaret,” Janet decides.

  Nix gives Lisa an appraising glance. “You might just sizzle in the sun like Dracula.”

  “I thought I was Dr. Frankenstein,” Lisa retorts.

  “That’s right,” Nix agrees. “It’s my mother who’s Dracula.”

  Out of the blue, George sweeps the dark straw hat from his head in what can only be described as a grand gesture and presents it to Lisa. For a brief moment, she’s touched by his thoughtfulness - until she sees him sneaking a peek to see if Janet is impressed.

  “Why, how gallant of you,” Lisa says with heavy irony, but George is oblivious to sarcasm.

  “You are welcome, Frau Doktor.”

  Lisa reluctantly slaps his hat on her head. “How do I look?” she asks.

  “It will keep you from burning,” Margaret says diplomatically. She lifts the baby from the edge of the blanket with no apparent effort and transports him to the hollow of her lap. Davey has exhausted himself in his efforts to explore the world around him. He finds his thumb for comfort and immediately drifts off to sleep, safe with his tante Margaret.

  “Perhaps you could be throwing it in the air if your team wins,” Janet says from next to Margaret.

  “Maybe,” Lisa laughs. “But which one should I be cheering for? They’re both home teams as far as I can tell.”

  Sitting on the dilapidated bleachers creates a different experience of the game, and Lisa is suddenly overcome with a sensory memory. Whether or not you were a fan, the crack of the bat in Fenway Park had been the sound of summer in Boston. Baseball drifted through open windows, trailed from passing cars, and seeped from TV sets in other rooms. There was no escaping it. Lisa feels a wave of nostalgia so overwhelming she almost cries out from the pain of it. She surreptitiously takes a swipe at her eyes.

  “I know,” Nix says abruptly. “Gramps always had the game on the radio in the kitchen or the ol
d transistor hung on a nail out in the cow barn.” Her eyes look a little moist for a second. “Baseball - and the sound of a wooden screen door slamming - brings it all back.”

  “You and your grandfather must have been close,” Lisa ventures, as she shifts her position slightly and feels a sharp prick on her bottom. Please don’t let that be a sliver, she thinks to herself, because who would I get to remove it?

  Lisa’s casual observation seems to trouble Nix.

  “Uh - I don’t know - I guess so,” she mumbles. “We got along all right.”

  “I’m sorry - it’s none of my business.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Nix says. But she looks a million miles away. “I guess the farm has always been like home plate to me - to coin a phrase,” she adds, trying for a smile as she jerks a thumb toward the diamond.

  “That makes sense,” Lisa says slowly. “Places can be as powerful as people.”

  From his seat on the other side of Nix, George agrees. “In my heart, Lancaster was always being home.” His voice catches. “But it is no longer.”

  Lisa feels a surge of empathy. She’s just indulged in a little bit of homesickness herself. “Lancaster might have recovered by now,” she says quietly. “Ezra was like an infection that had to be removed before the town could heal.”

  George pales. “He was a human being, not a germ!” He clambers down from the bleachers.

  “Oh for heaven’sake!” Lisa exclaims. “Ezra’s death - unfortunate as it was - gave the people he’d terrified with his apocalyptic nonsense a second chance.”

  George stalks away without another word.

  “He’s never going to change,” Nix says sadly. “He and I butted heads from the very beginning on this whole don’t-fight-back deal.” She looks pensive. “I don’t get it. There’s a reason we all have the instinct for self-preservation - most of us, that is.”

  She squints at Lisa. “I knew it - you’re turning pink already. Skin like yours needs more than a hat.” She laughs. “Out of the sun for you! Let’s go see how Davey’s doing. I sort of miss him if I’m away from the little bugger too long.”

  Suddenly her eyes move past Lisa, focusing on something in the middle distance. She half rises with a stifled cry, and Lisa turns to see what Nix is staring at with such intensity.

  A tattered figure wanders unsteadily along the edge of the playing field. She looks more than ever like a gypsy queen, her long silvery hair ruffled by the breeze - as if nature itself is trying to wake her from the stupor she’s in.

  Players on the bench, along with the spectators, catch sight of her and and a low buzz of voices builds. Cal Jones is the first one to act.

  He sprints towards her. “Let me give you a hand, ma’am,” he says in a deep voice that carries to everyone around the ball diamond. “You look like you don’t feel so good.” He takes her arm as she starts to sway a little.

  Lisa can’t believe her eyes. Holden said he took that awful woman north and dropped her off within sight of a truck stop where he was reasonably certain she’d find food and shelter. So how in hell did she make it back here? Does she remember the exam? Or realize she was sedated?

  Cal Jones tries to restrain her but Cindi Lou shrugs him off like a pesky mosquito - which is quite a trick, considering his size. Her gaze fastens on Diggs, who has just swung at the ball. There’s a sharp crack and the baseball soars into the air and the field beyond as Diggs pivots toward first base and begins to run. Cindi wastes no time now that she’s found what she’s looking for.

  “Jimmy!” she calls. “Baby, wait up!” She moves more quickly than seems possible for someone who, a moment ago, couldn’t seem to walk straight.

  Diggs falters as he glances in her direction, then tries to regain his momentum, but he’s as paralyzed as a mongoose confronted by a cobra. Cindi Lou catches up with him at first base.

  She throws her arms around his neck. “Oh my sweet boy, I’ve missed you so much,” she croons much too loudly.

  Diggs tries to pull away but she has a death grip on him. “Let go, you old bitch!” he yelps and breaks free.

  Instead of chasing him, Cindi Lou whirls around, her long skirt swirling about her legs. Her bleary eyes suddenly focus into the predatory stare of a crow as she scans the group by the bleachers. And Lisa’s worst fear becomes real.

  “I see you, ginger whore!” she screams, pointing at Lisa. “I know what you did!”

  In the outfield, Holden throws down his glove and starts running while Cash sprints from behind home plate - but Nix reaches her mother before either of them. She grabs a fistful of Cindi Lou’s hair and viciously yanks the woman toward her.

  “Say one more fucking word!” Nix hisses, her face inches from Cindi’s. “Give me a reason - please.”

  Cindi Lou’s eyes focus. “Phoenix! After all these years - look at you,” she says. And then she spits in Nix’s face. “You stole my farm, bitch - give me what I’ve got coming!”

  Nix’s right fist connects with Cindi’s face and she drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

  For what feels like an eternity, no one moves - until an infant’s wail breaks the spell. Lisa turns to see Margaret walking quickly towards the ball field with Davey in her arms. She waves her hands above her head to get the Mennonite girl’s attention, shaking her head violently - no! Margaret stops abruptly.

  Cash throws down his catcher’s mask as he reaches Nix. She puts a hand on the chest guard he still wears. “My knight in shining armor,” she murmurs.

  Holden comes out of left field and takes charge. “McAllister, Brady - grab this piece of garbage and lock her up somewhere.” He glares at them. “If she gets loose, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

  Lisa strides toward the group gathered around Nix, ignoring Cindi Lou as she’s hustled away. The shameless old woman has an uncanny ability to exploit the emotions of others - particularly feelings of guilt. What had it been like for Nix to be dependent on that?

  “How about you?” Holden asks Lisa under his breath. “You okay?”

  Lisa just nods. Her attention is fastened on her friend, whose face is pale and blank.

  “Nothing like a Sunday in the park,” Nix quips, but she sounds spaced out.

  Lisa realizes she’s in shock. She reaches for Nix’s wrist to check her pulse, then frowns in concern. “She needs something with sugar,” she calls. “Quickly.”

  Out of the crowd gathering around Nix, Brittany darts toward the cooler beside the players’ bench. There’s no ice in it, but there are a few cans of soda, chilled in the school refrigerator before the game, along with a plastic container of cold water.

  “Here, you go - drink this,” Brittany says, handing an open can of soda to Nix. “It will give you a shot of energy. It’s been a long day.”

  That penetrates the fog Nix seems to be lost in. “Yes, indeedy,” she agrees. “And lots more to do.”

  Cash moves restlessly beside her. “Let’s go home, Nix. The baby needs feedin’.”

  Taking a sip of soda, Nix spits it out like it was mouthwash before she downs the rest in a few gulps. Brittany’s sister, Ella, stands clutching a gallon jug of water, looking uncertain as to why she’s lugged it across the field.

  Nix grabs the plastic jug and empties it over her head, rubbing her face vigorously. Without a glance at the crowd around her, she takes off her T shirt and rings it out. Then she turns it inside out and pulls it on again.

  “Ta-da! No more mommy spit!” Nix announces, holding out her arms. “I’ll just go feed Davey now.” She starts toward Margaret in an odd, stiff-legged gait.

  “Your wife is in shock,” Lisa whispers urgently to Cash. “If her blood pressure gets too low, she’s going to pass out.”

  She turns toward Marcelli standing protectively next to Janet. “I need my bag. It’s over by the blanket under the trees.”

  Nix protests loudly and profanely as Cash and Holden each grab an arm and lower her to the ground. Lisa quickly elevates her legs and feet
atop the backpack currently being used as a diaper bag. Someone hands Cash a blanket and he places it over Nix, tucking it around her carefully.

  “Jesus!” Nix complains. “It’s 80 degrees out. I don’t need the damn blanket!”

  As Lisa begins taking Nix’s vital signs, she hears Nix mutter under her breath, “This is bullshit.”

  Lisa fixes her with a steely gaze. “Shut up and lie still,” she says, placing the stethoscope to Nix’s chest. “I’m trying to listen to your heart, but all I can hear at the moment is your griping.”

  When she’s done taking Nix’s vitals, she rises and whispers to Cash, “Get her to calm down if you can.”

  She moves away to give them some privacy, but after that, she can’t seem to think what to do.

  Holden appears at her side with a can of soda. “Here - drink something and cool down.” He taps the brim of George’s hat. “You look like a real badass.”

  Lisa gives him a weak smile and, holding the can with both hands, manages to take a sip of soda. The tension begins to leave her body in Holden’s presence - and then she sees Brittany behind him, gawping at her over his shoulder. Lisa feels her muscles tighten again.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” the blonde says. “I just wanted to let you guys know - we’re all going back to the farm now - well, except for Margaret - and I thought—”

  “Yes?” Lisa says impatiently before Holden can speak.

  Brittany clears her throat nervously. “I get the feeling the drama’s not over - and it might be better if Janet comes home with us for now. I’ll tell her I need help with Davey.”

  “That’s not a bad idea, Brit,” Holden tells the girl when Lisa doesn’t respond. “We’ll pick her up tomorrow.”

  “Does she want to go?” Lisa interrupts. “Because it’s entirely up to Janet. She doesn’t need a baby sitter.” She removes the black straw hat. “Give this to George when you see him. And, Brittany - keep him away from Janet, okay?”

  “Doc - I need to talk with you when you got a sec.” Cash’s voice refocuses her on the immediate situation.