“Well that’s too bad, Mickey. It’s tough being alone. But I’m sure Estelle would like you to come over for a nice home-cooked meal. How about it?”
“Hey, thanks, and you tell Estelle I appreciate it, I really do, but I’m just not ready for that right now. I’d either lose my tongue or maybe say the wrong thing at some point without Lenore being there. Let’s wait, Davey, okay? Maybe down the road, we’ll see how things go.”
At dinner that night McHugh couldn’t help wondering aloud whether something else was going on. “It’s possible they’ve already had enough of each other,” he said. “Lenore’s got another sister in Chicago and she could have gone to St. Louis if there’s really a problem there. That sister’s not married—at least she wasn’t a year ago—and you’d think she’d be the one to help out and let Lenore take care of her husband.” He quickly corrected himself. “I mean her boyfriend … Mickey.”
“Well, we’ll find out in time, so there’s no sense wondering about it.” As she spoke, Estelle pushed the last of the salad onto McHugh’s dish. “Mickey’s not the type to make up stories. That’s not in his blood. And he’s too bullheaded to come here for dinner. His sister told me once that he’s just like his father was.”
Not having Lenore around certainly didn’t affect Doolin’s play on the field. After six weeks he was leading the league in home runs, runs batted in, and walks, with a batting average hovering around the .300 mark. The Harrisburg players were beginning to rag him regularly about being called up to the Braves. McHugh worried more about losing Estelle back to his teammate with Lenore still nowhere to be seen. He had begun hoping that Doolin’s success would soon be rewarded with a trip to the big leagues, putting a lot of geography between the two of them. It was already the third week in May and July Fourth was getting closer every day.
On Sunday, June 6th, the Senators played a doubleheader at home against the Williamsport Grays. Doolin’s production for the afternoon netted him five hits in eight official at-bats, including a home run in each game and the hit that drove in the winning run just minutes before the Sunday curfew would have brought the second game to a halt. By Tuesday, word was out that Doolin had a ticket in his pocket and would be leaving that day to join the Braves, who were playing in Cincinnati. McHugh approached his teammate in the locker room as he was packing his bag.
“Congratulations, Mickey, you sure deserve it. You’ve been playing the game like a man possessed. I hope it keeps up when you’re in Boston. In fifth place like they are, they can sure use a bat like yours.” He watched as Doolin carefully untaped a picture of Lenore that hung inside the door of his locker. “Have you told Lenore yet?” he asked.
“Of course I have, Davey. You know, she’s been sick herself, near pneumonia I guess, after doing all she did for her sister. But she’ll be taking the train from St. Louis to Boston in a couple of days and she’ll be with me as soon as the team gets back home from Cincinnati and Philadelphia.”
They talked for a while, about nothing in particular, just two friends finding it hard to let go, until Doolin was packed and, as a parting shot, had torn off the strip of tape with his name on it from above his locker. “I don’t want this up here waiting for me to come back,” he laughed. “You’d better get out on the field for practice, Davey, or the old man’s going to bust a gut. Tell Estelle I was asking for her, and I know I’ll be seeing you real soon.” With that, Doolin punched McHugh’s arm lightly and headed for the door.
This time McHugh did not relay Doolin’s regards to Estelle. Mickey’s last words had sent a cold chill down Davey’s spine. If he’s going to be seeing me real soon, he thought, it’s got to be about Estelle, and if it’s about her, it’s only because he wants out from Lenore and back to his wife. There was no reason for him to believe what Doolin had said about Lenore being on her way to Boston. After all, he’d been making excuses about her absence since the start of spring training, and before today hadn’t said a word about her being sick, especially with something as serious as pneumonia. You could die from that, and he couldn’t see Doolin being silent about it, just keeping it to himself day after day while they spent hours around each other, both in the locker room and on the field. He was convinced more than ever that Mickey and Lenore had called it quits some time ago and that Mickey was now waiting for that week in July to reclaim his wife. In that case, he certainly wasn’t going to give Estelle any reason to feel good about Doolin by telling her that she was in his thoughts as he left for Cincinnati.
The next day McHugh went to the man they all called Fyooksie, the general manager, and checked both the Boston and Harrisburg team schedules for the week that would begin on July 5th. He was pleased to find that the Braves were scheduled to play every day but one that week, with games in Pittsburgh and St. Louis, while the Senators would be playing and traveling in upstate New York. It would be difficult for Doolin to have a face-to-face meeting with him. The only day he had to be concerned about was July 5th, the day after the holiday, when the Braves would be arriving in Pittsburgh for an off-day before the start of their series with the Pirates, and the Senators would be in Harrisburg all day until their overnight train departed for Elmira at eleven o’clock at night. That would be Doolin’s only chance to find him in Harrisburg and still have time to get back to Pittsburgh for his game the next day.
By the time July 4th arrived, McHugh’s plans were in order. He and Estelle left Harrisburg as soon as the Senators’ game that day was over, and stayed overnight—under an assumed name—at a lakeside cabin colony a short distance from the city. They checked out of there late the next day and drove to Lebanon, which would be the first stop the train carrying the Harrisburg team would make on its way to Scranton and then New York State.
“You take the car back to Harrisburg,” he told Estelle. “Go see Fyooksie at the train station when he’s checking the boys in. Tell him I had an emergency call from a relative and that I had to leave first thing this morning. He’ll get all excited at that, so let him blow off a little steam, but then assure him that I said I’d be in Elmira when the team arrived if I couldn’t catch the same train at another station.” McHugh put his hands on her shoulders. “Have you got that okay?” he asked.
“I do, Davey, but you haven’t told me why you’re doing this. What’s it all about?”
“Just trust me, Estelle. It’s something I’m doing for us, and I promise I’ll tell you what it is as soon as I’m back from the road trip.” McHugh knew from the silence that followed and the look Estelle gave him that she wasn’t going to push him any further. “Now let’s have a kiss and you drive back carefully.” Estelle obliged but didn’t start the car until McHugh pointed to the key in the ignition. “One last thing,” he said, as he opened the passenger-side door and began to get out, “if you meet anyone at the train station we know, no matter who it is—even if Doolin of all people suddenly appears out of nowhere—don’t tell anyone I’m getting on the train in Lebanon. Just tell Fyooksie or anyone who asks that all you know is what I said, that I’d be in Elmira for tomorrow’s game.”
As she drove back to Harrisburg, Estelle was bothered by what was going on. McHugh had surprised her that day by driving to Lebanon instead of returning home, giving her no reason for the detour. “You’ll see,” he said. Then he had added to the mystery by sending her back to Harrisburg while he remained there. He had asked her to tell Fyooksie about an emergency telephone call when there really wasn’t one. And she couldn’t understand how his strange conduct could be a way of his doing something for the two of them, as he had said. Estelle wondered whether there was another woman involved. Certainly McHugh had the opportunity to meet someone in each of the towns where the team played, and one of them might live in Lebanon. Why else would he send her home almost five hours before the train from Harrisburg was scheduled to stop there? And why would he caution her not to tell anyone else that he was in Lebanon?
Estelle realized that she had grown tired of living in Harrisburg. She
was still unable to obtain any interesting employment and dreaded the days when there was no work available for her at all. She had no intimate friends from among the players’ wives, avoided the ballpark when the Senators were home, and felt depressed when McHugh was on the road for a week or more at a time. “How long can I put up with all this?” she asked herself.
That night, when he boarded the train in Lebanon, McHugh wore a false mustache and beard that he had purchased in a joke shop earlier in the week. Instead of going to the first class dining car or to the sleeper car where the Senators would be bunking, he took a seat in coach class near the rear of the train. He also had on a gray fedora, the brim of which he tipped at an angle just above his eyes. He was afraid that Doolin might be on the train, ready to ride it as far as Wilkes-Barre, to see if McHugh got on anywhere between Harrisburg and Scranton. If so, Doolin might be checking each car, looking for him. But he was satisfied, having seen himself in the mirror, that Mickey would never recognize him from a quick walk-by down the aisle of the coach, and, in any event, wouldn’t expect McHugh to be anywhere but with his teammates.
In Scranton there was a layover of about an hour as several cars were switched to a waiting train that would head directly north into New York State and on to a series of towns that included Elmira. McHugh waited patiently from a distance, and then, when the final boarding call had been announced, he entered the last coach car on the train. Only several seats in the car were occupied. He found some pillows and a blanket in an upper rack and made himself comfortable on a seat in the middle of the coach. He waited until the conductor came by to take his ticket, asked to be awakened if he were sleeping when the train approached Elmira, and then stretched out on the double seat for the rest of the trip.
The following morning, when the train arrived in Elmira, McHugh caught up with his teammates as they were leaving the terminal to board the bus waiting to take them to their hotel. Fyooksie, counting bodies at the entrance to the bus, stopped him.
“When did you get on the train, McHugh?”
“In Lebanon, Fyooksie. But I’d had such a long day I just collapsed in a coach car and fell asleep. Sorry for any trouble I caused.”
“Okay, as long as you’re here, but Sam wasn’t happy about your not being in Harrisburg with the rest of the team. I spoke to him about it after Estelle told me your problem. It should be all right when he sees you in uniform.”
That afternoon the Senators made easy work of the Elmira Colonels, beating them 6–2. McHugh had three of his team’s ten hits, including a home run. When the teams reconvened for the second game of the 3-game series a day later, the Elmira club looked as lethargic as the day before, succumbing by an 8–3 score. McHugh had two more hits that afternoon, both doubles, and knocked in three runs.
It was obvious the next afternoon that the Colonel players had been admonished for their performance on the field. The spirit they showed during both infield and batting practice carried over into the game and they took a commanding 7–0 lead after four innings. The Senators rallied several times after falling into the hole, but couldn’t get the key hits to sustain a comeback. McHugh had another double in the eighth inning that drove in two runs, but it was in vain as Elmira won the game 10–5.
That evening, after the Harrisburg players arrived by bus in Binghamton for the team’s series with the Triplets, McHugh went off by himself to see a movie. He felt comfortable about the fact that the Braves would be playing in St. Louis for the next three days while his Senators were 1500 miles away. And once the series with the Triplets was over, he’d be able to return to Harrisburg and not worry about Doolin suddenly showing up to reclaim Estelle for himself.
When McHugh got back to his room at the hotel, there was a message waiting for him from Fyooksie that had been slipped under the door. “See me as soon as you get this note,” it read. “I’m in Room 310.”
Fyooksie opened the door and greeted McHugh with a big smile. “Come in, Davey, come in. I could have waited on this until breakfast tomorrow, but then you would have missed out on the great night’s sleep you’ll have tonight. Here’s the good news. The Braves are going to have an opening on the roster the day after tomorrow and the club wants you to fill it. I guess they took notice of how you’ve been hitting lately. Anyway, that means you get on a train tomorrow and head out to St. Louis. You’ll get there at night—it’s about a twelve-hour ride from here—and be activated on Saturday so you’ll be available for the two weekend games. Congratulations, Davey, you’re going to be a big leaguer.”
McHugh didn’t know what to say. Fyooksie was telling him that his lifelong dream of playing in the major leagues was about to come true. It was all he ever wanted, to be on the same field with the best players in the world. Natural talent played a big part in McHugh’s success, but he had put in the long hours and done all the hard work to reach this point. He should have been jubilant at the news. But in fact he was devastated by it. He looked at Fyooksie silently while his head was reeling at what he had just been told. Moving up to the major leagues at this point wouldn’t make up for losing Estelle to Doolin if his former teammate wanted her back. The only way McHugh could be certain of keeping her was to avoid Doolin altogether. And that meant staying away from St. Louis and the Braves for the next three days. He had to convince his general manager to let him do that. He had to come up with something quick.
“Fyooksie, it’s great that the Braves want me. Getting to the big leagues is all I’ve thought about since my dad got me my first mitt and took me to a Cardinals game. I want to go desperately, but I can’t go tomorrow. The problem is that Estelle isn’t well. We don’t know what’s wrong, but she’s got an important doctor’s appointment first thing Monday morning when we get back from this trip, and I promised I’d be with her. She’s worried sick about herself, and I can’t let her go to the doctor alone. If I went out to St. Louis, I couldn’t get back to Harrisburg on time.” He was silent for a few moments before continuing. “Wait a second, where do the Braves go after the St. Louis series?”
Fyooksie pulled a schedule out of his jacket pocket. “Back to Boston, to play the Dodgers,” he answered. “Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.”
“So I could leave Monday, after Estelle’s appointment, and be in Boston in plenty of time for the Dodgers. I’d only be missing the two games against the Cards.”
“I think you’d be taking a big chance, Davey. No manager likes to be caught a guy short on the bench in case he needs him. I’m sure Billy O’Connell feels the same way with the Braves. If you can’t go, the club may call up someone else. Probably not from the Senators but from some other farm team. And if they do, nothing says they’ll want you next week when they’re back in Boston. You might be real sorry you didn’t jump at the chance when you had it.”
“Fyooksie, like I said, it’s my dream, but there’s nothing I can do. Estelle has to come first.”
“Okay, I’ll make a phone call and explain the situation. As soon as I know what the decision is, I’ll let you know.”
The next day McHugh continued his hitting streak. He had a perfect afternoon at bat, reaching base on three singles and a walk. Two of the runs he scored helped give the Senators a 5–3 victory over Binghamton. McHugh hoped that word of his performance would convince the Braves to hold off filling the roster spot until he could join the team in Boston.
But it didn’t work out that way. While McHugh was eating dinner that night in the hotel, Fyooksie came by and gave him the bad news. “Sorry, Davey. Billy O’Connell told the owner he wasn’t going to manage a man short if there was a body available. He was really upset with you. They decided to pull some infielder off the Toledo club. I suspect they’ll hold on to him for a while. I can’t say whether O’Connell will call you again. You’ll just have to keep playing the best you can, try to keep that hot hitting going.”
McHugh was in the locker room, slowly dressing for the game on Saturday afternoon. He was sitting on a wooden stool, facing his
locker, when he suddenly felt a large hand on his shoulder. Before he could turn around and look up, he heard the familiar voice greeting him: “Hello, Davey boy, good to see you.”
“Mickey,” he blurted out. He got up and looked at the smiling Doolin. “Mickey, what the heck are you doing here?”
“Didn’t Fyooksie tell you guys? I got sent down yesterday, and here I am. It was no surprise, the way I’ve been hitting the past few weeks, or not hitting is what it really was. Just stopped seeing the ball good all of a sudden, and I dropped about thirty points in my average. So Quinn told me the best thing was to take some time in Harrisburg and get my eye back. How you doing, Davey? You look like you just seen a ghost.”
While McHugh was listening to what Doolin had to say, he was trying to think ahead, wondering if there was anything he could do, any way he could object if Mickey told him he wanted to go back to Estelle. But he realized that they were face to face, as the agreement had specified, and that there was nothing to prevent Doolin from calling the shot.
“I’m good, Mickey. It’s just such a surprise seeing you.” He reached out to shake Doolin’s hand. “And I’m sorry you got sent down but you’ll be back up in no time, I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah, I’m still waiting for when we can both be up there at the same time, Davey. I was hoping it was you who’d get the call and fill my spot with the team. Quinn told me how you’ve been knocking the cover off the ball. But at least coming back here gives me the chance to talk to you about Estelle and Lenore. I tried to see you at the train station in Harrisburg Monday night when the team left for Elmira, but you weren’t there and someone said you’d been missing all day. I came in from Pittsburgh because I wanted you to know how I felt. I was really afraid I might miss you this week. Good thing the Braves sent me back here, huh?” Doolin meant the last words just half in jest.
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