Joan Hess - Madness In Maggody

Ruby Bee opened the drawer below the cash register and took out a much-creased piece of paper. "Don't go jumping to conclusions, young lady. For starters, discounting Hammet, we've got six families. Now Saralee is staying at the Lambertinos', and Larry Joe is already coaching the SuperSavers. Joyce has her hands full with the little ones, so there's no way she can coach."

Estelle grabbed the list. "Two of the players are Elsie McMay's grandchildren, visiting for the summer. Elsie's been having real serious problems with swelled-up ankles, so she can't coach."

With a sniff, Ruby Bee retrieved the list. "And that Nookim boy is on the team, and you know perfectly well that his papa's been disabled for a long time and can barely walk. His mama works double shifts at the poultry plant, so there's no way she can do it."

Estelle's snort was on the testy side as she lunged for the list. "We thought we had a good candidate in Buzz Milvin, what with both his kids on the team. But he's aiming to start work at the SuperSaver Buy 4 Less as the night manager, and he said Jim Bob'd fire him in a Noow Yark minute if he found out Buzz was coaching the enemy. He was right worried about even letting the kids play. Ruby Bee had to chew on his ear for a good half hour."

"I'm sure she was convincing," I cut in before Ruby Bee could make a try for the list. "Could we hurry up the pace, please? Hammet's about finished with his pie, and the two of us are not entranced by your long-winded excuses."

"It's okay," Hammet said charitably.

Ruby Bee tried to snatch the list, anyway, but Estelle hung on for dear life and said, "That leaves the Mandozes boy, but I wasn't about to wheedle with his pa. Mr. Mandozes has that fiery Latin temper and a kinda wild look in his eyes when he talks. The only other one is Jackie Sattering, and Ivy was real firm about needing Alex to help on the farm. They're going into apple season, and she said they both work fourteen hours a day this time of year. Besides-"

"Besides," Ruby Bee said, tired of being offstage, "Alex is not what you call athletic. I watched him walk across the yard to get my tomatoes, and I was real surprised when he didn't stumble over his own two feet or drop my tomatoes on the ground. I think Ivy was, too."

I shrugged. "Well, you'll have to keep looking elsewhere. Come on, Hammet, let's go to the edge of town and bust speeders. You can operate the radar gun."

"I gets to shoot 'em?"

"Sort of," I said. I slid off the stool, waited while he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and joined me, and we started for the door-which burst open, almost in our faces. The sunlight blinded me for a second, but as my eyes adjusted, I realized I was nose-to-nose with Mrs. Jim Bob, aka Mizzoner. Mizzoner and I have a mutual loathing society. I'm president this year, but if she behaves, I may pass the honor next year. "You are just the person I wanted to talk to," she said, advancing on me like a tight-lipped piranha.

"Damn shame, Mrs. Jim Bob. Hammet and I were on our way out to preserve law and order in our cherished community."

Hammet grinned, but he'd encountered Mrs. Jim Bob in the past and had enough sense to maintain a cautious distance. "Yeah, Arly's gonna let me shoot folks what drive too fast."

Mrs. Jim Bob's beady little eyes narrowed. "How amusing, I'm sure. No, Arly, your little game will have to wait. I have things to say to you and your mother, and I intend to say them right now." She marched past us to the bar, where Ruby Bee and Estelle hovered uncertainly. "I have heard a most distressing thing, Rubella Belinda Hanks. It smacks of the devil's handiwork, and I'd like to think I was misinformed."

"It's happened before," I said as Hammet and I retraced our steps, curiosity having gotten to me.

"What'd you hear?" Ruby Bee said.

"I heard that you aim to sponsor a baseball team."

"You ain't misinformed yet."

"I also heard that you're intending to allow girls to play right next to boys, and that Arly here is the coach."

Ruby Bee ignored my growl. "You got problems with that?"

"Well," Mrs. Jim Bob continued, her mouth tightening until I wasn't sure how she could spit out the words, "I was afraid of that. You know as well as me that girls aren't supposed to play physical games with boys. It's dangerous for the girls, because they're so much weaker. Everybody knows girls do better at activities like sewing and making little animals out of yarn pompoms. What's worse is that seeing the girls jiggling around gives the boys ideas-wicked ideas about unnatural, sinful things. I know for a fact that Lottie Estes's younger sister 's boy, Kyle, went to a coed swimming party, and that very night his ma caught him in the bedroom"-she shot a quick look at Hammet-"doing an unnatural, sinful thing to hisself."

I could see Hammet's mind going every which way. Before he could say anything, I said, "That is absolutely absurd."

"It is not! You can just call up Lottie and ask her. She'll tell you how her sister liked to have cried for an hour on the telephone, and long distance, too-all the way from Enid, Oklahoma. She was sick with worry that Kyle's hands would break out in some kind of rash and everybody would know why. To this day, she frets over his report cards, wondering if his mind is quite right."

"Absurd," I said, still keeping an eye on Hammet, who was mystified but working on it. "Queen Victoria's dead, and we are in the twentieth century, with faint hopes of seeing the twenty-first. Girls have every right to participate in sports. They are not at a major physical disadvantage unless we're talking about weight lifting or wrestling. At this age, girls are better coordinated than boys, which more than compensates for a slight edge in brute strength."

"And nobody said one word about wrestling," Ruby Bee snapped. "I myself would be of two minds about girls rolling around on those mats with boys, especially in that skimpy underwear they wear, but there's nothing wrong with a girl throwing a baseball to a boy."

"Or hitting a ball," Estelle added.

"But they jiggle!" Mrs. Jim Bob said in triumph.

Ruby Bee leaned forward, her face beginning to take on the hue of the contents of the pickled-beet vat. "Not all of them, and the ones that do, why, they jiggle at school, too. They jiggle at the hardware store and at church. They jiggle all the time."

Estelle swept in for the kill. "And if God hadn't meant for them to jiggle, they wouldn't have anything that jiggled, would they?"

Mrs. Jim Bob took a breath and let it out in a martyred swoosh. "I suppose there is nothing wrong with girls having a nice team of their own so they can play other girls. Softball would be better, of course." She glowered in my direction. "And I am aware that Queen Victoria is dead, Miss Chief of Police. You were attempting to make a little joke, weren't you?"

"I was attempting to make you go away, but it didn't work. Come on, Hammet, it's high noon at the O.K. Corral."

Her smile had such a self-righteous air about it that I felt goose bumps rising on my arms. "Let me add one other thing," she said in an appropriately smirky tone. "If you coach this sinful team of jiggling girls and lusty-eyed boys, I shall insist that Jim Bob remove you from your position. He'll have your badge and your gun before you can make one more single smart-mouthed remark."

"You can't do that," Ruby Bee said, horrified.

"We'll just see about that, won't we?" Mrs. Jim Bob nodded curtly at the group, then stalked across the dance floor and out the door, no doubt expecting to be carried heavenward for a round of applause from the saints and angels.

Estelle patted my arm. "Don't worry about her, Arly. She can't insist that Jim Bob fire you just because you're coaching a baseball team."

Ruby Bee came around the bar and started patting my other arm. "Why, that's blackmail. She can't do that."