Charlotte Figg Takes Over Paradise

by Joyce Magnin

  After pouring myself a glass of iced tea, I joined her at the table. "I'm a little worried about you, Rose. What gives with you and the team? We're counting on you."

  "I know. I'm sorry. It's just . . . well it's just that I don't do much socializing outside of Paradise, and the notion of showing off my scars and the tattoos gives me the willies. It's hard enough at church, but I keep them hidden, you know?"

  "Why? Didn't you tell me that even Jesus showed his scars? He didn't hide them, did he?"

  "It's not the same."

  I screwed up my mouth and thought a minute or so. "I think it is, Rose. Maybe not exactly, but you suffered and now—"

  "I know. But people out there"—she nodded toward the outside—"won't understand."

  The dinger on my stove went off. "I better get my crust. I'm making a lemon meringue. Not my favorite, but I thought it would make a nice change. Even though it seemed like that Zeb Whatshisname had the lemon pie market cornered. I was going to bring it to Hazel Cren—" I stopped talking.

  "Hazel Crenshaw?" Rose asked. "I knew something was going on with you two." She slapped her knee. "Now spill it!"

  "Goodness gracious, Rose. I might as well tell you, but you have to promise not to tell another breathing soul." I placed my crust on a cooling rack.

  Rose raised three Girl Scout fingers. "I promise, Charlotte."

  "Hazel Crenshaw owns the Elsmere Elastic factory, and not only that, she owns Paradise, the whole park. Fergus only works for her, and she is my contact for the team sponsorship. It was her idea." It felt like popping a pimple to tell her.

  Rose swallowed, and I watched her eyes grow big. "No kidding? That's huge news, Charlotte. Really huge. The hugest news."

  "But you can't tell. It's a secret. I promised her."

  Rose looked out the window. "Well, I'll be darned. I knew there was more to that old woman than birds."

  "Yep. But you won't tell anyone, right? Although I just don't understand why she's so concerned. Who cares if everyone knows the truth?"

  "I know, I can understand Fergus wanting to keep it a secret, but Hazel? What's the big deal? You'd think she'd want people to know who she really is."

  "So you agree, Rose. Secrets are just plain silly. Even for you. I think you should let your tattoos out for the whole world to see and not be ashamed of them."

  I thought a minute, and then I said it. "You're a fraud, Rose. Just like so many other people who say they're all holy and forgiven and stuff. Seems to me if you really were all that stuff you wouldn't need to hide."

  A small sliver of crust from my baked shell dropped off."Darn. It's a bit crumbly. How long do you think you can hide out in Paradise, Rose?"

  19

  Rose Tattoo didn't speak to me for three whole days after that.

  For three days I stayed home, baked, cleaned, worked on the team roster, argued with my mother on the phone, and reviewed the rule book the man in the garage gave me. Softball had changed over the years, but not much. You still couldn't steal a base and the arc of the pitch could still not be higher than six feet. I took comfort in that as I worked out batting assignments. I decided that Marlabeth Pilkey would be our leadoff batter, even though I had yet to see anyone on my team swing a bat. We had to get a practice in, and I had to start somewhere.

  But mostly I missed Rose.

  Lucky and I took more than a few walks in those three long days that always took us past Rose's trailer and then down to the Wrinkels's.

  I saw Rose once near the giant hand, planting pansies. She never looked up. But I knew she knew I was there. It was hard to distinguish if she was refusing to look because she was mad or because she was feeling bad about her scars and tattoos and about what had happened to her so long ago.

  Walking past the Wrinkel trailer filled me with a similar trepidation and concern. When I first moved to Paradise, I thought I had moved among the oddest folks on the planet, misfits and crazies. But the more I looked, the closer I became to them, the clearer it became that there was indeed trouble in Paradise.

  On the second day I decided to go trailer-to-trailer and schedule our first team practice. I stopped by Greta's trailer first.

  "I'm calling a practice for Thursday morning," I said, standing in the doorway.

  Greta had the baby on her hip.

  "She's getting big," I said. "Grown a lot in the last month."

  I heard a crashing sound that seemed to come from the kitchen.

  "Nuts," Greta said, "That's Charlie Junior in the pots again. Excuse me."

  I stepped inside and watched her gently lay baby Ruth in her cradle then dash to the kitchen area. Greta's trailer was decorated in, well, no other way to put it except to say that if you didn't know better you'd swear cowboys owned it. Lots of animal pelts scattered about, a steer horn on the wall that held two cowboy hats, and a lamp that somehow incorporated the use of a skull, a brass pipe, and turquoise.

  She came back to the living area dragging a small boy by the arm. "Now sit on that couch and don't you move, Charlie Junior."

  Charlie stuck his finger up his nose and obliged his mother.

  "Now, what were you saying, Charlotte? Practice Thursday— in the morning. What will I do with Charlie Junior? Baby Ruth is no problem, but Junior, well, he's another story. He only goes to his preschool two days a week, Lord knows, I wish it was more but—"

  She turned quickly. "Charlie Junior. Take your finger out of your nose this instant. You'll get bugs."

  "I'll think of something, Greta. We have to start practicing. Games officially start on June 25th."

  "I don't know, Charlotte. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe the husbands were right."

  "Nonsense. We just need someone to look after the kiddies is all; maybe we can fence them in over at the Frost sisters' or something."

  "Good one, Charlotte. A kiddy corral. Hold them dogies up."

  "Dogies? Oh, right. I bet Lucky would love to help watch the tykes. Just be at the field at 10 a.m. Thursday."

  Charlie Junior screamed, "I'm hungry." And that started baby Ruth crying.

  I visited everyone on the team that day and was met by pretty much the same protests, but I assured them all that all the details would get worked out and that they should plan to be there, kids in tow and wearing shorts and sneakers.

  Marlabeth offered me chamomile tea to soothe my nerves.

  Toward evening that same day I saw Suzy out back of her trailer. Her arm was in a white plaster cast up to her elbow. She pulled laundry from the line and seemed to be getting along well enough. I waved. Lucky barked and scurried close to her and sniffed around at her ankles, but I called him back.

  "It's okay," Suzy said in a hushed tone. "Your dog don't bother me."

  I shot her a big smile and waved as Lucky made his way back to my side. "You play softball?"

  She shrugged and went back to her underwear and tee shirts and towels.

  "We have a practice at the field Thursday morning if you'd like to join us."

  Suzy didn't respond, so I took it as a no.

  Thursday dawned. Asa came to my trailer bright and early and begging for coffee.

  "They're calling for rain this afternoon, Charlotte," he said."Good thing you're getting a practice in before."

  I poured his coffee and gave him a bowl of oatmeal with brown sugar and raisins. "Here you go, eat up."

  My own oatmeal was already on the table with a couple of tablespoons gone. Lucky had already downed his. Silly pooch liked oatmeal. But he always left the raisins behind, every single time. How he did it I'll never know, but sure enough his bowl held twelve perfectly clean raisins. Funny thing is, Herman did the same exact thing.

  "Do you think the team will show up?" I asked. "I know they were worried about their kids and all."

  "Not sure." Asa wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. "Hope so. I saw most of the husbands go off to the factory this morning. Carl Kaninsky drives around and picks them up in that big old Suburban of his."r />
  "How'd they look?"

  "Usual. Like a chain gang. I doubt the wives even told them about the practice."

  "That's not good, Asa. I don't want to start a bunch of marital wars."

  He swallowed the last of his oatmeal. "You let the wives take care of their husbands. I suspect they know what they're doing."

  "What about Rose?" Even I heard the change in my voice. Suddenly lower, suddenly sad.

  He shrugged. "Don't know, Charlotte. She's been feeling a little down. It's like this softball team thing all of a sudden has her scared, scared like she was when she first moved here."

  "It's my fault. I started it. Well, that's not exactly true. This whole thing was her idea, for crying out loud, and now she's gone and abandoned us. We need a catcher now and—"

  "Try not to worry too much," Asa said. "I'll talk to her again."He carried his bowl to the sink.

  "All right, but I have an awful feeling that she's really quit on us—for good."

  Asa finished his coffee and placed the cup in the sink.

  "Guess we should go," I said, looking at the clock. It was nearly nine and I wanted to be there early to get set up. "Did you have time to chalk the lines and—"

  "Sure did. Cousin Studebaker came down yesterday and helped me. We even made a halo in the on-deck circle—you know, for Angels."

  "You are something else, Asa. Thank you. The women will love it, except—"

  "Except what?"

  "We need a babysitter. The women can't play unless I find someone to watch their kids."

  Asa and I were about to the Frost sisters' flagpole when he stopped short. "I know what we can do. I drove Marlabeth over to Fleur de Lee way early this morning because Fleur de Lee was having some contractions or something, but Marlabeth said it was nothing. She might still be over there, and maybe Fleur de Lee can come watch the youngsters."

  "You think she will?"

  "Sure, as long as the mothers don't mind a retard watching their children."

  "Asa, that's a terrible way to put it."

  Asa looked at his feet. "Ah, I don't mean any disrespect. It's just what they're called, you know?"

  We arrived at the gorgeous Angel Field, and already Edwina and Thomasina were tossing a ball around. "Good morning," I called with a wave.

  "Good morning, Charlotte, we just couldn't wait to get started."

  I saw a large green shed with a lock on it. "Is that where you stowed all the gear, Asa?"

  "Yep." He reached into his pocket and handed me the key to the padlock I saw dangling from the box. "Not that it will do any good now."

  "I looked at the key and then at the box. How did they . . . ?"

  Asa nodded toward the box. "Looks like Edwina shot the lock off."

  I shook my head. "You people don't mess around."

  "Listen," Asa said, "you want I should run by Haven House and see if Marlabeth is coming and if maybe Fleur de Lee can come watch the youngsters?"

  "Yes, that's a good idea, but—well, what about Jaster? Does he work?"

  "Full time at Elsmere. He's in quality control. Someone needs to make sure the elastic is stretchy enough."

  I laughed. "Why is elastic so funny?"

  "Because they make underwear and bra straps and jocks and stuff with it, you know, Charlotte. We all know it and it's funny, that stuff, I mean. Underwear."

  Thomasina threw me the brand-new Rawlings softball. I caught it in one hand. "Go on, Asa." The softball felt so good in my hand. Still a perfect fit. I threw it back to Edwina, who stood near second base.

  "Good throw," she called.

  I opened the shed and was unloading bats and balls, a catcher's face mask, and shin guards when I saw the yellow flag unfurl atop the pole. The rest of the team paraded toward the field with babies and children in tow. My heart swelled as they moved closer. "They did it," I told Lucky. "They came; they all came."

  Lucky barked.

  "Except Rose."

  Gwendolyn waved like she was conducting the Philharmonic."Charlotte, what a beautiful day."

  True. The promised rain had yet to arrive. "It is," I called back with a wave. "A great day to play ball."

  The team gathered around me like I was a mother hen. I liked it. "Is everyone here?"

  "Everyone who can play," Ginger said. "Except Rose. She told me to tell you she is not playing."

  "When did she tell you that?"

  "Yesterday. She was sitting up in the giant hand looking like the rug got pulled out from under her. I climbed up there and sat with her a while. She hardly said a word."

  "Whose gonna play catcher?" Gwendolyn whined. "Wasn't Rose the catcher?"

  I nodded and took a deep breath. "Rose will change her mind," I said. "Don't worry." Even though deep inside I wasn't so sure.

  That was when Charlie Lundy Junior grabbed a bat and started swinging it around, nearly conking his poor mother on the head. "Charlie Lundy, you put that bat down this instant or I'm gonna give you what for but good."

  Charlie ran off toward second base with the bat and was quickly followed by four other children I hadn't met. "Someone needs to round up those kids," I said. "They'll mess up the field." I caught scowls from a couple of the moms.

  Gwendolyn headed out onto the field. I watched her stamp her foot with her arms crossed against her chest. She stuck her chin out in a most menacing way as she spoke loudly to the children. I didn't know she had it in her. "Now git on over there, sit down, and be quiet!"

  The children did as they were told and sat along the thirdbase line like ducks in a shooting gallery.

  "Well," I said, "the good news is that I think Asa is coming back with Fleur de Lee to babysit the children while we have our practice."

  "Fleur de Lee?" Clara Kaninsky said. "You mean that retarded girl from Haven House? She's coming to watch our kids?"

  "What about it?" Ginger said. "She'll do a fine job. Be good practice for her and besides we'll keep an eye out."

  "That's right," I said. "We need someone to watch the kids and keep them from running out on the field when we practice. Wouldn't want them to get hurt."

  "I don't know," Clara said. "Makes me nervous, and if my Carl found out he'd throw a conniption fit."

  "Let's just relax and give it try. The children will be in view the whole time."

  "Yeah," Edwina said. "We'll keep an eye out. The kids will be okay."

  That was when I saw Asa's truck pull onto the Frost sisters' property. "Does it look like Fleur de Lee is with him?"

  The doors opened and I saw Asa and then Marlabeth help Fleur de Lee out of the backseat.

  "Looks like she's agreed to watch them."

  Edwina ran toward Fleur de Lee and grabbed her hand. She pulled her toward the team. "Come on, Fleur de Lee, you come play with the little kids."

  Fleur de Lee was all smiles and a big round belly. "We can go play over here," she said, taking one little girl's hand. "Let's go play."

  "You be careful, Linda Sue," Clara called.

  Not a single child turned to look back. Fleur de Lee was the Pied Piper leading the children around.

  "Okay." I clapped my hands and brought the team to attention."Let's get started."

  But before I could give out any instructions I saw women running every which way grabbing bats and balls and gloves and shouting to each other like they had just been let loose from a zoo.

  "Come on," called Greta. "Throw me a pitch." She stood on home plate swinging a bat.

  I let them go for a short time until I corralled them all together again. "That was a lot of fun. But we need to get organized. I want to see how you all can swing a bat."

  "I'll pitch," Asa said.

  I set a bucket of balls on the pitcher's circle. "Take it easy with them. You don't want—" I stopped talking when Asa raised his hand and said, "I might have known."

  "What?"

  "Fergus," Asa said.

  Fergus Wrinkel was making his way out of the woods."Asa," he called in a louder-than-
necessary voice. "Asa. I've been looking for you. I need you to carry them propane tanks down to the dump."

  "Now?" I called. "We were just about to start our practice."

  "Now," Fergus said. He was clear to the pitcher's circle and looking at Asa like a jackal staring down a rabbit. "This is a woman's team. What you want with a one-armed man anyway? Not like he can play."

  Asa handed me the ball. "I'm sorry, Charlotte."

  Fergus opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else, when out of the blue came a line drive hit that buzzed Fergus's head. I looked toward home plate. My whole team stood there holding bats. I needed to know which one of my players could hit a ball like that.

  Asa choked back a laugh. The team was not quite so gracious and laughed like a pack of hyenas over at home plate.

  "Come on, Asa," Fergus said. He sounded a tad humiliated."Do you want to keep your job, or do you want to stay here and play sissy softball?"

  Asa went off with Fergus, but I knew that Fergus had no real say in whether Asa kept his job or not. That was Hazel's call. I only wished Asa knew it also.

  20

  I had already decided that official practice sessions would last for an hour and a half, with one half hour dedicated to a different fundamental. The women gathered around me in a circle. Each one of their faces held a slightly different expression. I saw excitement, trepidation, questioning. Greta kept one eye peeled in Charlie Junior's direction, and Marlabeth seemed to be on an entirely different planet than the rest of us. Their hair was unkempt, and they wore clothes that looked about nine sizes too large, except Greta, who was squeezed into a pair of cutoff jeans. Clara Kaninsky looked for all the world like Lana Turner, and Thomasina insisted on wearing overalls and I wondered if I would ever get her into a uniform.

  "It's always good to start a practice with some drills, so I'd like you all to run the bases two or three times," I said. "Stretch your muscles a bit."