you’ve skinned him, cut him into two-inch pieces and bake him on a grid. That needs a good hot flame. Nice with piccalilli.
Vern and Okey were inspecting the beast.
‘Stun it with a mallet?’
‘Had to,’ he said. ‘Generally I pierce them through the spine with a skewer. Couldn’t hold this old boy, though. I had to give him a clout with my hammer.’
‘Skin come off easy?’
‘Not too bad. Do you put a slip-loop round him, hang him from a good strong hook, then cut round him, just aback of his head – Stanley knife does it nice and clean – then grab holt of the skin here, use a pair of pliers and just give that a good old pull, that comes off, like peeling off a glove. He might still jerk around a bit, but you just pay no heed. Do you cut his head off, he’ll soon calm down.’
I heard something behind me. Turned just in time to see Lois, running to the bathroom. Ed fetched a good knife and they carved that evil-looking creature into steaks and made space for them on the hot grid.
Lance made a big entrance. He’d been at the Officers’ Club helping to set up the fireworks. He strode in, said a few kind words to everybody, shook John and Kath by the hand like he was some visiting dignitary, asked them had they come far and all that. Then he called us to order and we all looked to the flag.
Little Gayle stood on a kitchen chair in her gingham pedal-pushers and sang us the Star Spangl’d Banner, fine voice she had. I had to wipe a tear, I felt so far from home. Wherever that might be. I didn’t miss my mom nor my sister, and me and Vern had moved around so much I didn’t really belong anyplace any more. Maybe it was the fumes from the Kurlichs’ charcoal briquettes made my eyes water. Maybe it was the eel.
Vern said, ‘There goes 366 Squadron, generating more smoke than heat, as usual.’ Just a little light enmity between aircrews. We were playing them at softball after eats and we had plans to whup their hides.
Kath was acting shy, with the guys around, I guess, till she saw Okey start giving the girls pony-rides on his back. Then she joined in, down on her hands and knees with little Sandie clinging round her neck, shouting giddyup.
She didn’t eat much, pecking at her food. John was eating enough for the two of them, though. He kept going back for more – chicken, cake, hamburger, ice cream, eel. He just piled it high, pacing up and down, with that funny little smile of his. He never went near Lois, though, never even looked her way. I know because I was keeping my eye on her. And all she had was crackers and booze, crackers and more booze.
I said, ‘Lois, what’s your problem?’ after she told me she didn’t feel up to playing softball. ‘That leaves us a man short.’
‘Come inside a minute,’ she said.
We went into Betty’s kitchen.
‘You keep a secret?’ she said. ‘I’m expecting. Only don’t you say a word t’anybody else.’
She didn’t look good. Kinda blotchy. I hugged her.
I said, ‘In that case, I forgive you. First three months with Crystal, I couldn’t even keep water down. Herb pleased?’
‘That’s what I mean, Peg,’ she said. ‘Me and Herb haven’t had time to sit down and talk about it. You know? So keep it to yourself.’
Dorothy Kurlich was waving us it was time to go down to the diamond.
‘Take my advice, Lo,’ I said, ‘you’ve got a migraine. Go home, lie down, get your face outta here, before the interrogation starts. Leave Sandie. She’ll be fine.’
Betty said, ‘Migraine, my eye. That girl’s in the family way. But don’t you worry, I won’t tell a soul. Well, I hope that means the game’s off. I never wanted to play anyhow. Swinging at a silly ball.’
Lance was our captain. He had to be. He was the tallest and the blondest and he had ‘Leader’ written all over him. He said how about recruiting John, take Lois’s place, but Kath heard that. She said, ‘No. He won’t manage that. He can’t hit a ball. If you’re short, though, I’ll have a go.’
Ed muttered something to Vern about too many women. Something about why didn’t we just let them run for president and be done with it. But Lance put Kath in to bat 9, and he asked Betty to help her along till she got the hang of the game. Which was like asking Mr Magoo to lead the blind.
366’s line-up was Ax Bergstrom, captain, and his wife, Ruby; Dorothy and Deek Kurlich; Pat and Yvette Franklin; Ginger Bass and Lorene; and Tom Hannegan. His wife was home to Nebraska, dropping their firstborn any day.
First inning, Okey homered in to centre field, Lance popped up to third and then Ed put us up 2–0 with a home run to left, Betty squealing, ‘Oh Ed, oh Ed!’ Then Vern popped up to Ruby Bergstrom at short and then I done the very same thing myself.
Me and Vern Dewey had a long-running disagreement regarding the ability of the female of the species to hurl a ball and, this being the military, the fact that I pitched for Topperwein High, 1939 to 1941, helped them on their way to a team-low ERA of 3.09 in the Guadalupe County Senior Girls’ League, counted for nothing with our captain. I guess he felt he’d done enough for womankind that day. So it was friend husband who stepped up to the mound, pitched so wild he gave away three walks, then Deek Kurlich hit a home run. Nice work, Vern.
Hannegan fouled out to first base and Ruby B and Dorothy both grounded out.
Lance walked alongside me as we changed sides. I said, ‘Is that a change of pitcher I hear clanking through the cog-wheels of your mind?’
‘I guess,’ he said. ‘I hate to cause strife between husband and wife, though.’
‘Woman’s game.’ That was the unkindest cut Vern could come up with when he heard I was taking his place.
Ax Bergstrom pitched to Gayle and she singled down the left field-line. Audrey walked, Betty struck out, never got the bat off her shoulder and then there stood Kath, with her sleeves rolled up and that polka-dot skirt tucked up in her drawers. Next thing Bergstrom knew, the ball was well on its way to Norwich. Trouble was, Kath didn’t know she was meant to drop the bat and Captain James Maggs, who was umpiring, was the type of unbending bastard does everything by the book. Still, Kath had showed us what she was made of.
‘Well, just look at that,’ Okey said. ‘We gone and adopted ourselves a left-handed power-hitter.’ He was so excited he lined out to short.
Lorene Bass faced my first pitch. I had her and First Lieutenants Franklin and Bass struck out, all three.
Third inning, Lance and Ed singled, then Vern hit to second and by the time he moved his ass, Deek Kurlich had stepped on to the bag and whipped the ball across to first. I was so mad at him, I lost my head and popped up to third.
I pitched well after that, kept 366’s finest pretty much pinned down.
Fourth inning we got there, slow but steady, put us 6–4 up. Then fifth inning if Vern didn’t go and make the same foolish error again. I walked, but then Gayle grounded out to first base.
I said to Lance, ‘Please tell me you’re not allowing Mr Double-Play Dewey near a bat again.’
‘Hey,’ he said, ‘whatever happened to wifely devotion?’
‘He gets that in buckets,’ I said. ‘Now, why don’t you use the brain God gave you and let little Deana pinch hit for Vern? She can’t do worse.’
He said he’d think it over.
Sixth inning the question didn’t arise, but Kath homered to right field and Lorene Bass never even saw it go.
I gave up two runs when