“Booooo.” She cupped her hands. The crowd was uneasy. Shouting only positives was rooted in their core.
“Pussies.” Dale wiggled her butt. “Boo Falcons. Boo Falcons.”
Puppy wasn’t sure which was funnier, Frecklie covering his reddened face or Dale wiggling her rear up and down the top of the dugout.
Finally the uncertain boos started, gathering wary momentum as if the neighbor in the adjoining seat jumped in, giving permission. The catcalls streamed louder and louder. It was fun.
“Play ball,” the A28 shouted again.
Dale cartwheeled onto the field and started barking. The crowd joined in. The umpire was maybe not so happy because it ordered Dale to leave. She barked and cartwheeled and defiantly wiggled her butt in its face. The crowd liked this even more. The ‘bot chased her down third base and across the infield, Dale cartwheeling and the umpire yelling play ball. Dale stopped near first, a little dizzy, and the umpire jerked its thumb.
“Out.”
“What?” Dale blinked, baffled.
“I’m throwing you out, Miss.”
“I don’t play,” she snapped as Frecklie ran onto the field.
“If you’re in my stadium you listen to me. Now get your ass out of here.”
Dale definitely threw the first punch; Puppy heard the crunching of her hand on the ‘bot’s head ten feet away. Her three dancers cartwheeled around the fallen umpire, but Frecklie slipped under their kicking thighs and smacked the A28 in the chest.
It took about fifteen minutes for the dancers, Dale and Frecklie to be dragged away by players from both teams. Pausing on the top step of the dugout, Dale shook her penis at the ‘bot, earning the loudest cheer of the 2098 season and sending Ty into a stunned heap.
Fortunately for Puppy, the umpire was a little dazed and provided a very generous strike zone. Puppy didn’t have much, but he set the tone from the first pitch when, under strict orders from Ty, he threw at the leadoff batter’s head. As expected, the Falcons starter responding by throwing at Puppy when he came up in the third inning. Both benches cleared and the confused umpire searched for Dale, assuming she was behind everything wrong with its Universe.
It was that kind of an ugly game, especially his pitching line: seven innings, four runs, eight hits, three strikeouts and three walks. Ty, still sifting the notion of dry-humping someone with a penis, showed mercy and pitched the last two frames.
Puppy took the last of the Ibuprofen and hurried out of the clubhouse, carefully unfolding the tight square note as he headed along Jerome Avenue, glancing at addresses. Beth waited inside the alcove of the shabby burnt orange and beige bricked building. Without any greeting other than disdain, she shoved the square note into her purse, snapping the latch shut with some regret it wasn’t one of Puppy’s fingers.
Beth buzzed once and they were let through a bruised, unmarked red door. A faint smell of pained sweat hung over the tiny waiting room of bamboo chairs and a tattered green couch. From behind a beaded entrance, a thin old Chinese woman waddled out and gave Beth an affectionate hug.
The older woman and Beth spoke quickly in Chinese; Puppy flinched at hearing anything beside English; all other languages were banned. The elderly woman circled Puppy warily and sighed. Beth’s voice took on a pleading quality. They disappeared through the beads, speaking in incomprehensible whispers.
Beth returned alone. “She doesn’t trust you.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s illegal. She saw you on the vidnews and fears you’ll tell since you’re so important.”
He wanted to rip off his burning shoulder. “I thought it was all set.”
“What can I say? My grandmother doesn’t like your face.”
“I’m so sorry. Cosmetic surgery is also illegal so here we are.”
Beth turned toward the door. He was desperate.
“Please. If I can’t pitch, I’m afraid the whole damn baseball season will somehow go down the toilet. Please.”
Beth grumbled about the hand her brain dead son had dealt her and pushed back through the beads. The women’s voices screeched in more Asian jibberish. Popping her head out, Beth coldly beckoned him inside and turned out the lights in the examining room.
A tiny candle flickered. Puppy shyly removed his shirt and lay on his stomach. Beth closed the door as her grandmother fussed with the acupuncture needles. He wasn’t fond of needles.
“You’re staying?” he asked.
“She doesn’t trust you.”
“But I’m supposed to trust her?”
Beth made walking gestures with her fingers. The grandmother chattered and he rolled onto his back. Beth’s eyes widened at the scar on the front of his shoulder.
“Thought I was lying?” he asked.
She looked away, guilty.
The fun and games with needles on both sides of his shoulder lasted about half an hour. He fell asleep; Beth shook his arm.
“It’s over.”
He dressed silently, looking around for the old woman, but she’d vanished. He and Beth waited at the traffic light down the block from the office.
“How’s it feel?” she asked quietly.
“Good. Thank you.”
“My grandmother knows what she’s doing.”
“I’m not surprised. I have faith in your whole family,” he said with a big smile. “Can I buy you a meal or a drink to thank you…”
Beth combined anger and embarrassment into one deadly stare and hurried through the intersection.
“What’s with you, lady?” he yelled at Beth, who disappeared down the subway steps. “Fine. Bye bye sweetness.”
Puppy flapped his right arm in a seal-like wave. There was no pain in his shoulder. No. Pain.
• • • •
“YOU OKAY?” MOOSHIE zipped up Zelda’s sweater jacket.
Zelda stared emptily out the cab window, counting blocks. “How was the gig?”
“Too many Regs.” Mooshie met the A21’s curious metallic gaze in the rear view mirror. “But oh the sound system.” She sighed dreamily. “Like a recording studio. They loved me, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Elias brought some strange good looking guy who didn’t say a word all night except stared at me like our fucking cab driver. Hello.” She banged on the glass window. “You got a problem?”
“Sorry ma’am. I seen you on the
