Boys Against Girls (10 page)

He had to get this over with. Had to know if she was dead or alive. He found himself half running as they reached Main Street, and ran up the sidewalk to Oldakers’ where a small crowd had gathered. People seemed to be going in and out, so the boys went inside and through the store to the back. There
stood their father beside the police chief, a reporter, the older Mr. Oldaker, and several others.

“What happened?” Wally skidded to a stop beside his dad.

“Can't quite say,” the police chief told him. “Burglar alarm went off here at Oldakers', but there doesn't seem to be anything missing.”

Wally went limp with relief. “Nobody hurt?” he asked.

The police chief looked at him curiously. “No,” he said. “Why would there be?”

“I think the burglar was frightened off by the alarm,” said Mr. Oldaker. “I figured nobody would break in the front door, because they'd have to break the glass. So I put the burglar alarm on the back, and when it goes off, you know it.”

“And you're sure nothing is missing?” the police chief asked.

“Not unless it was a book or two. We empty the cash register every night. Typewriter's still there. The adding machine … What else would a burglar want?”

The reporter, however, was bending over the back door. He was scraping his ballpoint pen along the edge of the doorway.

“Look here,” he said to the police chief.

“What have you got?”

Mr. Hatford and the police chief stooped down to
see. Wally edged closer to his father. The reporter was holding a tuft of light brown fur between his thumb and forefinger.

When the newspaper came out the next day, there was a story on page one:

An apparent burglary was attempted and failed last night at Oldakers’ Bookstore on Main when the alarm went off as the back door was opened. No items were reported missing, but there was no explanation for a tuft of brown fur that seemed to have been caught as the door was closing….

Mr. Hatford grinned a little when he read the story aloud at breakfast.

“The abaguchie has stopped carrying off cats now, and is devouring books, perhaps?” he said.

Sixteen
Playing Bull

      T
hings turned out even better than Caroline had dreamed. Mr. Oldaker had not caught her coming up out of his cellar because he'd already gone home; the boys had not succeeded in trapping her there for long; and somehow, in making her escape, she had accidentally started a whole new rumor about the abaguchie; the only thing it had cost her was a little tuft of fur from the hem of Beth's old jacket. Was life in Buckman wonderful or what?

Eddie's thumb had recovered enough by the weekend that she wanted to practice her batting and pitching again, so once more the three girls made their way to the field behind the college. This time, however, they were not alone. The Hatford boys had got there first. Jake was pitching, Wally was catcher, Josh was up at bat, and Peter's job seemed to be to go after the ball wherever it went.

“What do
you
want?” Jake yelled when he saw the girls. “Scram!”

“We have as much right to be here as you do’ Beth said. “You don't own this field.”

Just then Jake pitched, Josh swung his bat, and the ball came whizzing right over to where the girls were standing. Eddie simply put out one hand and caught it in her glove, as easily as if she were answering the phone.

Caroline could see by the look on the boys’ faces that they were getting ready for an argument over the ball, when Eddie threw it back to Jake.

Whoosh¡
Jake caught it, but barely. He blinked.

Without a word he threw it to Josh again. This time Josh hit it hard and it went sailing out into center field. Peter ran and ran, and Josh could have gone around the diamond three times before the ball got back to Jake again.

“So what do you want?” asked Wally, still staring at the girls.

“I came over to practice’ said Eddie. “You want us to be your basemen?”

“We don't need any girls,” Wally told them.

But they clearly needed basemen. Jake and Josh looked at each other. Then Jake gave a sly grin, as though it were all a joke.

“Sure¡ Let ‘em be our basemen¡ Why not?” he said, tongue in cheek,
Eddie walked over to first and said she'd cover right field. Caroline took second and center field, and Beth took third and covered left field. Peter moved up to shortstop.

Josh took another turn at bat and made a home run while Caroline was running after the ball.

Jake and Josh exchanged places, and Jake made it to second while Peter fumbled the ball.

Wally took his place at bat, while Josh pitched, and made it to first.

Without any teams or any lineup the boys kept batting and running, until finally Peter sat down on the ground and said he was tired of the game.

“Well, see you later,” Jake said to the girls as he gathered up his bat and ball.

“What do you mean?” said Eddie. “Aren't you going to field for us? Don't
we
get some batting practice?”

“Time for dinner,” Josh said, and the boys all laughed.

“Why, those rotten rats!” said Beth. “We ran our legs off out here and they're not even going to give you a chance, Eddie!”

Eddie glared after them. “I'm going to make that team, don't think I won't,” she said.

•

There was a football game that weekend, Buck-man versus Salem. Caroline and her sisters and their mother went as usual, and sat in some of the best seats on the fifty-yard line. Caroline knew all the Buckman College cheers by heart, so that if she
didn't
succeed as an actress when she was grown, she might be a professional cheerleader instead. The problem was that she got so caught up in the cheers that she shouted them louder than anyone else, and sometimes even sprang to her feet, fists in the air, when the cheerleaders did their final handsprings at the end.

Two bits, four bits,
Six bits, a dollar;
All for Buckman
Stand up and holler.
Yeaaah, team).

Or:

What do we want?
Touchdown¡
When do we want it?
Now¡

To which Caroline leapt to her feet, and added:

What do we do to Salem?
Biff¡ Bam¡ Pow¡

“Caroline, for goodness’ sake, sit down,” said Mother, yanking her arm. “Must you act like a pagan?”

A pagan? Caroline instantly fell in love with the word. A pagan to her meant a wild, mysterious woman with a primitive soul, sort of a female abaguchie. Or maybe a princess. A pagan princess, worshiping the sun, who had to escape because she was going to be sacrificed to the deity to make crops grow or something.

She got so wrapped up in her fantasy that when she saw a player intercept the ball and make a touchdown, she cheered before she realized it was the opposing team.

“That does it, I'm going for a Coke,” said Eddie. “I'm too embarrassed to sit on the same bench with her.” She made her way past a row of knees, little white clouds of breath coming out of people's mouths, Beth behind her, and Caroline bringing up the rear.

“Not you, Caroline!” Eddie said, when she saw her sister following along.

“I won't cheer, I promise,” Caroline said.

They went down to the concession stand and bought Cokes, and as they were standing in the milling crowd, sloshing the ice around in the tall paper cups, Beth gave Caroline a nudge.

“Look.”

Caroline turned and, on down the fence, saw Jake and Wally hanging over the top, watching the game. And then, as the girls stared, Jake's and Wally's heads disappeared, and Peter's and Josh's appeared in their place.

“You know what they're doing?” Beth cried delightedly. “They're taking turns standing on each other's shoulders and watching from over the fence.”

“Definitely illegal,” said Eddie.

Caroline sloshed the ice some more. “So what if we sneaked up behind them and dumped our ice down the necks of the guys on the bottom?”

“Perfect!” giggled Beth.

They went out the gate and made their way around to where the boys were standing, just as Beth said, on each other's shoulders. Peter and Josh were on top, Wally and Jake on the bottom.

“Ready, set, go!” Eddie whispered, and the girls crept up behind them and dropped the ice from their cups down the collars of Wally and Jake.

It was all over in a minute. Wally and Jake reared back, Peter and Josh tumbled on top of them, and the girls ran pell mell back to the gate, but were stopped by the security guard.

“We were just in there!” Caroline explained. “We only came out for a minute.”

“Ticket stubs?” said the guard.

Caroline looked at her sisters. Mother had them¡

“We—we left them with Mom’ said Beth.

“Sorry’ said the guard. “Can't let you in without the stubs.”

“But we're—” Eddie stopped. The girls all knew that their father did not like them trying to get special privileges by using his name, but this was an emergency. “We're Coach Malloy's daughters.”

“Coach Malloy's daughters, and they don't even know enough to keep their ticket stubs? Coach Malloy's daughters, and they'd leave right in the middle of the game? I doubt it,” said the guard.

In the background the Hatford boys hooted derisively.

What happened was that the girls had to hang around the gate until the game was over, because the Hatford boys were lying in wait for them if they had tried to walk home. Caroline hoped that Mother would come looking for them, but she didn't, and they were tired and cold and cranky when the game ended at last, a three-point win by Buckman, and Mother came out with the crowd.

“Where on earth did you go? Did you see the field goal in the last two minutes of the game?”

“We went out the gate and the guard wouldn't let us back in,” said Beth. “All we want is to go home.”

Mother got out the car keys.

“Well, for heaven's sake, then, you should have
gone on home. Why were you hanging around?” she asked. And then, without waiting for an answer, she said, “You know, I am really beginning to like this little town. I met a number of faculty members tonight, and it's so nice being called by my first name.”

The girls piled into the car. “In fact,” said Mother, “I'm feeling very comfortable with the community in general. Do you know where we're going for Thanksgiving this year?”

“Ohio?” Caroline guessed.

“No, I got a call from Mrs. Hatford this morning. We're invited over there.”

Caroline stared at her sisters.
The
Hatfords? The Horrible Hatfords?
Them?

“I think it's wonderful. She said she knew we didn't have any relatives down here, and if we weren't going back to Ohio for Thanksgiving we were welcome at their table. I told her we'd love to come, and I'd bring the pies.”

There was no sound at all from the backseat. To have to sit behind Wally Hatford every day for the rest of fourth grade was bad enough, Caroline thought, but to have to sit across the table from him at Thanksgiving and be nice?

“Do we have a choice?” Eddie asked after a minute.

“No, you do not,” Mother said.

Seventeen
Letters