After both teams took their pre-game warm-ups, the home plate umpire called for the Nor'easters to take the field. Just before running out, Marlee whispered to Susie, "Take yourself out of the game if it gets too bad."
Susie frowned. Marlee could probably tell that her feet still hurt.
"Susie, c'mon," Marlee pleaded. "Fake a different injury if you have to, okay? It's not worth it."
Susie couldn't resist Marlee's pleading expression. "I will. I promise." And she meant it. She took off running for left field. Her feet hurt, but surprisingly, they didn't protest as much as she thought they would.
She found her spot in left field and threw her glove to the ground. She took off her hat, and pulled the hair band off of her hair. With both hands, she pulled her hair back and then twisted the band back on. She placed her pony tail up on her head and plunked her hat back on. The familiar ritual helped Susie feel grounded. The smell of the freshly cut grass mixed with the distinctive smell of the infield dirt made her feel like she was alive. Her troubles usually faded away once the umpire yelled, "Play ball!"
Through the first six innings, the game remained scoreless. The Nor'easters had plenty of base runners and plenty of opportunities to score, but Bree seemed to have developed a few more pitches and held them scoreless. On the plus side, Marlee had pretty much singlehandedly kept the Southbridge Bombers scoreless, too.
Susie ran back onto the field as the Nor'easters took the field at the top of the seventh inning. "Go get 'em, Tiger," she said as she sprinted past Marlee in the pitcher's circle.
"I'll do my best," Marlee called after her.
Susie's feet had swollen up again major big time, but since it helped mask the pain, that was fine with her.
Susie found her favorite spot in left field and punched her glove, ready to hold the Southbridge team scoreless yet again. The first batter of the inning flied out to right field, but then the universe changed the plans with the next batter. Abby, the Nor'easter's shortstop made a rare fielding error and the batter was safe at first. The third batter of the inning got on base with a clean base hit up the middle. Marlee must have been rattled because she walked the fourth batter to load the bases. Susie groaned and punched her glove. Bree was up with the bases loaded and only one out. All she needed to do was punch a single through the infield or hit a sacrifice fly ball and the Southbridge team would score a go-ahead run. Susie crouched low. The last thing she wanted was for Bree to be the hero for her team. That would be like adding salt to the Bree wound.
"C'mon, pitcher," Susie shouted to Marlee from left field, "fire it in there." Don't let Bree be the hero.
Marlee put her hands together and fired the pitch toward the plate. The pitch hung over the plate, and Bree launched a rocket down the left field line.
Susie sprinted toward the sharply hit line drive, and made a split-second decision to dive for it. She took two more steps, pushed off with her right foot, and leaped toward the screaming liner. She stretched her glove arm out as far as it would go. The ball thunked into her glove and she squeezed it tight bracing for impact at the same time. She hit the ground with a grunt, but held on to the ball. Her teammates' cheers gave her the strength to scramble to her feet. The runner, probably thinking the ball would drop in for a hit, had taken off for home and was scrambling back to third base. Susie rifled the ball to the base a split second before the runner got back.
"Out!" the umpire yelled.
Susie leaped in celebration. A move she regretted as soon as her swollen feet landed back on earth. She didn't care. She had just taken a hero moment away from Bree. She trotted back toward the Nor'easters' dugout. On the way she leaped over the ball lying in the pitcher's circle. There you go, Bree. The ball's back in your court.
Susie opened the dugout gate and high fived her teammates. Coach Gellar walked past her on the way to the third base coach's box. "Looked like you had lead in your feet there, Torres. My granny could have gotten to the ball faster." She left the dugout not waiting for Susie's response.
Susie clamped her lips shut and closed her eyes, afraid her Puerto Rican temper would flare up. She felt a hand on her back.
"Breathe," Marlee said.
Susie opened her eyes and blinked back angry tears. Why did her coach have to be una cabróna? She didn't know how much more of her coach's sarcasm she could take.
"C'mon," Marlee pointed to Sam taking her stance at the plate. "You're on deck."
Susie put her helmet on, grabbed her batting gloves and bat and headed to the on-deck circle. She put her batting gloves on and took several practice swings imagining herself hitting the ball solidly.
Up at the plate, Sam fouled off pitch after pitch until she finally walked to give the Nor'easters a base runner with no outs. Susie stepped up to the plate determined to get a hit and put Bree in her place once and for all. She dug her back foot into the batter's box and took her stance waiting for the pitch.
Bree took the sign from her catcher. Susie zeroed in on Bree's hip where the ball would be released. Bree went into her windup. The ball was on its way heading right for Susie's knees. She jumped to get out of the way, but couldn't move fast enough. The ball zinged into her calf.
Susie bit back the pain and headed toward first base. What she really wanted to do was storm the circle and sock Bree in the mouth with her fist. That way Bree's pain would match her own. Instead, she calmly trotted toward first and waved back the athletic trainer who had come running out of the dugout to see if she was okay.
"Way to take one for the team," Jeri called from the bleachers.
Susie took a deep bow toward Jeri, wondering how long she'd been there.
"Hey," Betsy the first base coach said, "are you okay?"
"Yup." Susie tried to ignore the throbbing pain in her calf. There was no way she'd look down at it now. No way she'd give Bree the satisfaction.
"Are you sure? 'Cuz I think she hit you on purpose."
"Oh, really? Why do you think that?" Because I think that, too.
"The catcher did this." Betsy held up her thumb to the side and then flicked her wrist up. "Does that mean anything?"
Susie tried not to laugh. "No, it just means to pitch inside." Which it didn't, but Betsy didn't know that. Right there was proof positive that Betsy didn't know the game of softball. The thumb flick was the international bean-ball sign. Susie counted herself lucky that Bree hadn't actually aimed for her head.
With Sam on second base and Susie on first, Lisa stepped into the batter's box with no outs. Marlee swung a bat in the on-deck circle. Susie laughed to herself wondering how Bree was going to pitch to Lisa with Marlee standing so close. After four pitches it became apparent that Bree couldn't concentrate because she walked Lisa to load the bases with no outs. Marlee stepped into the batter's box and dug in. All they needed was one run, and they would win the game.
"C'mon, Marlee," Susie called from second base. Be the hero.
Bree wound up and threw a beautiful fastball on the inside corner. She had obviously been practicing. The second pitch, a curve ball, nicked the outside corner for strike two. Marlee stepped out of the box clearly unhappy with the umpire's call. Susie kind of agreed with her, because the call could have gone either way. Susie watched the signs from Coach Gellar. She wanted Marlee to hit away.
Bree took the signal from her catcher. A change up headed toward the plate. Marlee must have mistimed it because the ball trickled toward Bree in the circle. Sam ran toward home, Susie toward third, and Lisa toward second. Bree tossed the ball to her catcher easily getting Sam out at home. The catcher then pivoted and shot the ball to first base.
"Out!" the field umpire yelled.
"Shit!" Susie muttered standing on third. She slapped her thigh. It was a nice double play by the Southbridge team, but now, instead of bases loaded and no outs, they had two outs, and Abby was up. Abby had struck out every time at bat so far that day. If Susie didn't score, they'd be forced into extra innings. Susie was desperate to get the ga
me finished because her feet were throbbing. She needed to get some ice on them and on her calf.
"Okay, Torres," Coach Gellar said from the third base coach's box. "You're the winning run. You're not forced, so don't be the hero trying to score."
Susie nodded. That's all her coach was going to get from her from now on. Nods. Susie felt the hard glare from her coach's eyes from behind the dark glasses she wore. Apparently a diving catch to save at least two runs wasn't enough to get her out of the doghouse. Dios, it wasn't her fault her mother grounded her for two weeks. Well, maybe it was. She shook the thoughts out of her head as Abby stepped into the batter's box.
Susie wasn't sure, but it looked like Bree had visibly puffed up like a peacock. Susie decided right then standing on third base that her soul purpose in life would be to wipe that smug smile off Bree's face.
Bree took the sign from her catcher and put her hands together. Susie rocked back on the base when Bree started her wind up. Susie exploded off the base as the ball exploded out of Bree's hand. Susie stopped her lead when Abby swung and missed the rise ball. The catcher leaped up holding the ball high ready to throw to third. Susie trotted back to the base. Susie was sure Bree would throw the rise ball again.
Susie exploded off the base again, and sure enough, another rise ball was on its way toward the plate. Susie's heart leaped into her throat when the ball sailed over the catcher's head. She turned on the speed and raced toward home. Bree sprinted to cover the plate while her catcher ran to the backstop to track down the ball.
It was going to be close. Susie threw her arms back and started her slide. Bree crouched low waiting for the toss from her catcher. She caught the ball and threw herself on top of Susie.
Susie couldn't hear the umpire's call over her shouting teammates, so she had no idea if she had been called safe or out. All she knew was that Bree still lay on top of her with the ball in her glove, even though the play was long over.
"Get off me." Susie shoved Bree and sat up.
Bree stood up and dropped the ball in Susie's lap. "What's your problem? You just won the game." She turned her back and headed toward the Southbridge bench. She ripped the glove off her hand and flung it at the dugout fence almost hitting a teammate.
Susie didn't have time to see what happened next because her teammates piled on top of her at home plate, and she found herself at the bottom of a dog pile.
Susie extricated herself from the pile and followed her teammates to the dugout not expecting much from Coach Gellar, except maybe a smile. She didn't even get that.
Coach Gellar stepped in front of Susie blocking her way. "That was a pretty risky move, Torres. You got lucky this time." She turned and walked away leaving Susie staring after her in disbelief.
Chapter Eighteen
The Devil
SUSIE, SAM, LISA, and Jeri plopped themselves on the highest row of the bleachers. On the field below, the Mohawk All-Stars were taking on the Grasse River Tomahawks in the second game of the evening. Susie plunked her swollen feet on the bleacher in front of her and started to untie her cleats.
"Wait." Sam put a hand on Susie's.
"Why?"
Sam nodded toward Coach Gellar on the field talking to the Mohawk coach. "You don't want her to see your funky feet."
"Aay, good idea."
Susie waited until their coach got in her car, and drove away. "Gosh, wasn't it so nice of her to tell me that my diving catch to save the game was awesome?" Susie's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Oh, and scoring the winning run? She was so grateful. How nice of her to say."
"Not." Sam added.
"And how nice of her to ask if I was hurt after Bree hit me with that pitch." Susie turned her foot out to expose the darkening lump on her inner calf.
"Geez." Lisa sucked air through her teeth. "That looks bad." She turned toward Sam. "Did you have the--"
"Yup." Sam reached into her softball bag and pulled out a plastic ice pack.
"Where did you get that?" Susie asked.
Sam grinned as she smashed the ice pack on the bleachers to mix the chemicals inside. "Not me. Your girlfriend." She pointed toward the warm-up pitching area behind left field where Marlee was working with Bree. "She helped herself to Coach Gellar's first aid kit." Sam reached in her bag and pulled out gauze pads, alcohol wipes, antibiotic ointment, athletic tape, latex gloves, and an ace bandage.
Susie's heart swelled. "Marlee got all this stuff for me?"
"Yeah," Jeri said with a grin. "Your sweet innocent Marlee turned to a life of crime just for you."
Susie turned to watch Marlee work with Bree in the pitching area. She sighed. "I don't know what sucks more. Coach Gellar riding my ass or that." She pointed to Plan D in operation.
"Sus," Sam applied the ice pack to Susie's bruised calf, "I know you hate this. Hold that for a second." Susie held the cold ice pack while Sam wrapped an ace bandage around to keep it in place. "We all agreed on Sunday that we should let it play out."
"Yeah, but they don't even have a catcher." Susie gestured helplessly toward Bree standing way too close to Marlee. Marlee held a softball up and must have been demonstrating a grip or something, but Susie seriously doubted that Bree was studying the softball. "No, I don't like Plan D at all." She grunted and distracted herself by untying her cleats. She pulled them off one at a time. If feet could sigh, hers did. She stretched her feet and tried desperately to relax. It wasn't working.
"Okay, let's review," Sam said. "Plan A failed because Bree couldn't take a hint and waited forever for us to come out of the dugout. Plan B failed because Bree couldn't take a hint and caught up to us at Marlee's van. Plan C failed because even though we totally left her standing in the parking lot in mid-sentence, she still couldn't take a hint."
Jeri laughed. "This chick definitely can't read social cues."
"No kidding." Susie rolled her eyes.
Jeri turned to Lisa. "If you and Marlee had just stayed in Clarksonville and played in the Nichol Park League with me, none of this would have happened."
"Yeah," Lisa laughed, "I'm not sure how me and Marlee got brainwashed to play on an East Valley traveling team in the first place." She shuddered as if she had eaten something sour.
"Oh, c'mon," Sam said. "You know you love us."
Lisa shrugged. "Sorry, Jeri. She's right. You're loss, eh?"
Jeri scowled playfully. "So tell me more about this Bree character. All I know at this point is that she's certifiable."
Susie laughed. "Marlee says we need to hit Bree with a two-byfour."
Jeri's face brightened. "Ah, I know that one. The donkey story. The two-by-four to get her attention, right?"
"Exactly," Sam said. "Plan D was designed because Bree is like a dog with a bone and won't give up. So, we're giving her what she wants. She's going to get so sick of Marlee that she's gonna be the one that runs away."
"Tell me again why this whole reverse psychology thing is a good idea?" Susie bugged her eyes out at her friends.
"I'll tell you why," Lisa chimed in. "I've seen her type. Bree, I mean. She's all about the hunt. If she gets Marlee's attention, she'll eventually get bored and lose interest." Lisa exchanged a glance with Sam. "Hopefully."
"Aay, it's that 'hopefully' that scares the crap out of me. I'm supposed to just sit up here and watch Bree hang all over Marlee?" Susie threw her hands up in a helpless gesture.
"Actually," Jeri said, "I think Plan D might work. If we let Bree get what she wants, then she's got nothing else to want."
"While I sit here and watch the devil make a play for my girlfriend." Frustrated, Susie reached down to yank her socks off.
"Stop, stop, stop." Sam grabbed Susie's hand. "You're gonna rip your skin off. Listen, we're right here if Marlee can't handle things."
"It's not Marlee I'm worried about."
Sam nodded. "I know," she said softly. She gestured toward the ice pack covering Susie's bruise. "It's obvious what kind of person Bree is."
Lisa put her hand on Sus
ie's sock. "May I?"
"Sure, whatever." Susie leaned back to give Lisa room.
"Your right foot's a mess," Lisa said. "You've bled through the gauze and your sock, too." She put on a pair of latex gloves and slowly peeled off Susie's bloody sweat-soaked sock. She held it up and made a face. "I think we'll just throw this out, okay?"
Susie nodded, but was barely paying attention until Lisa unwrapped the bloody gauze.
"Does that hurt?" Lisa stopped unwrapping.
"No." Susie said in a high-pitched voice trying to be tough in front of her friends.
Sam laughed. "By 'no,' she means 'yes.'"
Lisa narrowed her eyes at Susie. "Trying to be a tough guy, eh? You don't have to be invincible in front of us."
"Yeah," Jeri said, "I personally know all East Valley players are sniveling weenies."
"Oh, nice, Jeri," Sam pretended to be hurt. "We'll see who ever eats at D'Amico's again." She folded her arms and looked away.
"I hate to say it, Sam, but Jeri's right." Susie grimaced at Lisa and reached down to look at the gauze that had adhered to her feet. "It does kinda hurt."
Lisa ever-so-slowly separated foot from gauze, and when she was done with both feet, she said, "This'll feel so much better once we get you cleaned up." She flashed Susie a smile which Susie couldn't help but return. Sam was lucky to have found Lisa.
"You should be a doctor," Susie said. "You have a great bleacher-side manner."
"Thanks." Lisa exchanged a glance with Sam.
"Actually," Sam said, "Lisa wants to be a paramedic."
"Cool," Susie said. "By all means, practice on me."
"Okay, here we go." As she cleaned up Susie's feet, Lisa talked about having to constantly apply first aid to her three younger siblings. She uncapped the tube of antibiotic ointment, but hesitated. "You know what? I think we should let your feet air out a little bit. I'll put this stuff on and bandage you up right before we leave."
Susie nodded. The warm evening air felt good on her feet. "And this way I can't run over to kill Bree, right?"
Going, Going, Gone: Suzie's Story Page 15