Page 43 of The Fall Classic

“You were, were you?” Chick Parkinson asks. “We didn’t see you.”

“Oh, I got tickets for my niece.”

“Good ones?” Chick Hanks asks.

“Uh, fourth row, behind home plate.”

The Chicks pass a look among themselves like they’re playing “Button, Button, Who’s Got the Button.”

“You can’t afford those tickets,” Chick Allen says. “But I know a player who’s been stopping by your shop a lot lately.”

“Leave the gossip to your wife,” Chick Hanks mutters.

I wipe down the steam wand, trying not to smile. “He’s a regular at the shop.”

“Mm-hmm,” says Chick Allen, in exactly the tone Lulabelle used two nights ago.

Chick Parkinson sets his cup down on the window ledge. “That boy’s going to be the best knuckleballer since Wakefield,” he says, “if he ever gets out of his own way.”

“I think he’s working on it,” I say before I can stop myself.

All three of them look at me.

Then Chick Allen drops a dollar into my tip jar. “Let’s hope,” he says before they all head to his car for the game.

***

I chat with Alma when I get home and watch the last few minutes of the Mudflaps game on TV before going upstairs to my cramped apartment to work on homework. But my mind wanders …

And stops on Logan’s question about The Giving Tree.

I told Logan that the Tree gets to give, and he said something obvious that I’ve never considered.

Is that enough?

I don’t have an answer. The question irritates me like a stone in my shoe until a text comes in that makes me forget the stone completely.

Logan

I took the Shel Silverstein collection.

You should know: I’m coming for that kid.

Okay, that sounds sinister. I mean metaphorically.

I read it once and bite back a smile.

Georgie

You should know I’m not mounting a defense but can’t wait to hear your thoughts.

But FWIW: the Tree was “happy.”

I return to my textbook and don’t hear back from Logan for several minutes..

Logan

Not really, though.