Девять рассказов
The Laughing Man
"Ido,too,wanttoplay!"TheChiefnoddedandtriedagain.Hepointedinthedirectionoftheinfield,whichwassoggyandpitted.Hepickeduparegulationbatanddemonstrateditsweight."Idon’tcare,"MaryHudsonsaiddistinctly,"IcameallthewaytoNewYork—tothedentistandeverything—andI’mgonnaplay."TheChiefnoddedagainbutgaveup.Hewalkedcautiouslyovertohomeplate,wheretheBravesandtheWarriors,thetwoComancheteams,werewaiting,andlookedatme.IwascaptainoftheWarriors.Hementionedthenameofmyregularcenterfielder,whowashomesick,andsuggestedthatMaryHudsontakehisplace.IsaidIdidn’tneedacenterfielder.TheChiefaskedmewhatthehelldidImeanIdidn’tneedacenterfielder.Iwasshocked.ItwasthefirsttimeIhadheardtheChiefswear.What’smore,IcouldfeelMaryHudsonsmilingatme.Forpoise,Ipickedupastoneandthrewitatatree.
Wetookthefieldfirst.Nobusinesswentouttocenterfieldthefirstinning.Frommypositiononfirstbase,Iglancedbehindmenowandthen.EachtimeIdid,MaryHudsonwavedgailytome.Shewaswearingacatcher’smitt,herownadamantchoice.Itwasahorriblesight.
MaryHudsonbattedninthontheWarriors’lineup.WhenIinformedherofthisarrangement,shemadealittlefaceandsaid,"Well,hurryup,then."Andasamatteroffactwedidseemtohurryup.Shegottobatinthefirstinning.Shetookoffherbeavercoat—andhercatcher’smitt—fortheoccasionandadvancedtotheplateinadark-browndress.
