Rana McCole: League Leader (Fiction)
It’s not a funny story. It could
be. He wishes it were funny. If someone told Chris this story, he’d crack up
for sure. But the way the whole situation went down makes him feel kind of
frustrated every time he thinks about it. In fact, Chris thinks about that
summer and Tracey a lot. She was his girlfriend in high school—the first of
two. Chris will tell you he’s fucked lots of girls, but as far as real girlfriends there was Tracey and
Michelle. He married Michelle, so she doesn’t count, which makes Tracey his
first and only real girlfriend.
The story starts at the Des
Moines Target—the busiest Target in Iowa, right out on Army Post Road, which runs
through the center of town. Housewives crowd the aisles during the day with their
rug rats and some nights it can feel like everyone in the city is in that store.
Like everybody in Des Moines needed new sheets or a screwdriver or some toilet
paper at the same time.
The night that Tracey and Chris
were there, Target was more than packed. It was a zoo. Chris heard once that
Des Moines was home to the richest people in America. He’d thought it must be a
joke because everyone he knew was broke. In the report the newsman said that
people are rich in Des Moines because they don’t spend most of the money that
they earn. It seemed to Chris that people loved to spend their money on dumb
shit just like he did.
Chris makes a decent living,
better than most of his friends. He works for his cousin, who is a general
contractor, and he still gets to play baseball in Birdland Park in the evenings
and on weekends. He’s a league leader in the DMSBL—the Des Moines Semi-Pro
Baseball League. Chris’s team, the Titans, are ranked highest overall in Iowa.
He’s not proud of himself— not too proud because he should’ve been in the majors,
but that’s life. Most of Chris’s teammates are in his boat. They got girls
knocked up early or became alcoholics and it killed their chances. If Chris didn’t
have a kid to take care of, things would be different. He thinks he might be
under contract, probably making tens of millions. He always had that kind of
raw talent. People expected Chris to be famous—at least his mother always
thought so. In a local TV spot, after they’d beat the Nite Hawks, Chris offered
advice to youngsters watching the Des Moines 6 ‘o clock news: “Use a rubber,
kids.”
It had been a record hot day and
was still hot in the Target the night Tracey and Chris went, not only because
of the crowds, but because the air conditioner had malfunctioned. The humidity
made it so that everything stuck together, and he thought the red shopping
carts might melt together, as if performing some kind of plastic copulation. Chris
secretly thought objects had minds and lives of their own. He would be quick to
assure you that he’s no psycho or anything, but he swears sometimes that he can
see faces on ordinary things, like they have feelings. His favorite baseball
bats, for instance, all have a different personality. When Chris’s having a bad
game, he thinks it’s because his bat, Sally, is probably in a shitty mood
because she’s on the rag, or that Jasper is being a dick about the rain. At
times, to a fan in the bleachers, it can appear as if Chris is arguing with one
of his bats. Most of the time, this anthropomorphizing serves him well, as he’s
the best hitter on the team. Chris is a league leader in home runs. Tracey
would watch him play ball in high school, but that was before things went sour
and before she got all high and mighty on him.
Tracey was in the stationery
aisle, looking at notebooks and pencils, and Chris was bored as hell. The idea
of going to Target was born out of a growing malaise and because Tracey wanted
to get her school supplies in advance for senior year. It was July.
“You know about senioritis,
right?” Chris asked.
“Yeah, I know about it, so?”
“Nobody even goes to class their
senior year. You don’t need notebooks. You won’t even need textbooks.”
“Yes, I will.”
“Hell, I’m not even bringing a
pen.”
Tracey laughed. “Not everyone can
play baseball, Chris.”
“You just need to not be afraid
of the ball.”
“Yup. Then I’ll go pro, for
sure.”
“You got a good arm for a girl.”
Tracey scrunched her nose. “So do
you.”
“Good one,” Chris said, pulling
her toward him. She smiled. He kissed her neck on the spot that made her go
crazy.
“You got a good mouth for an
underachiever.”
“That’s why you love me.”
She pulled away from him. “Who
said I love you?”
“You did.”
“I love… when you kiss me there.”
“Right,” He shrugged. “I’m gonna
go play video games. Come find me when you’re done.”
Tracey was reaching for a pack of
highlighters as Chris walked away. She was focused on getting into college and
wanted to move to New York City. Chris wondered why anybody would want to live
in a crowded, dirty city like New York. He thought it must be like being at the
Target in Des Moines 24 hours a day. They said the Big Apple never sleeps.
Before that night at Target,
Chris believed Tracey was cool. Being cool, to Chris, was the highest status of
girlfriend-dom. Tracey’s coolness was demonstrated by her attendance at his
home games and her antics at house parties and her enthusiasm for drinking a
lot of beer in the woods and in Chris’s basement. He had told Tracey that he
loved her because he did. Chris wasn’t even ashamed to admit it.
They’d taken each other’s virginity
and that made Chris pretty confident in their relationship. He thought Tracey
was great in bed. She always had new moves and stuff she would try. He had
guessed she was a great lay because when they’d met at the end of freshman year
at Tommy Shultz’s party, they’d danced all night together and she was a
seductive dancer.
Tracey’s hair was short and shiny
black, which Chris preferred to all the bleached blonds he knew. She’d smelled good
to Chris even after they ran track together. She was artsy and would draw
pictures that looked professional. But mostly, Chris thought she was just
really laid back and fun as hell to be around.
Tracey found Chris, and after leaving her
handbasket on the floor by an end cap, they messed around in the toy aisles.
They were just being silly—grabbing toy guns and shooting each other, and
pulling strings on dolls to make them talk, and throwing Nerf balls—trying to
peg the other one in the leg.
He remembers holding up this doll
when they were both out of breath. “Let’s make a baby,” Chris said.
“You are a baby,” she laughed, and then she pegged Chris with a koosh
ball she’d been hiding, and darted down the doll aisle, squealing.
“Fuck. You’re asking for it,” he
said. When he caught up to her, Chris held her tight against his body while she
kept shrieking and laughing and fighting to get free. He knew then that he
might not get to stay with her. He had this feeling, like she was already in
New York.
After they left the toy section,
the two of them cruised around, stopping for a few minutes by a clearance rack
where Tracey stuffed different colors of the same t-shirt into her basket. Chris
first noticed that people were staring when they were in the pharmacy section.
He remembers a group of middle school girls walking toward them giggling and
covering their mouths with their palms. But most people were just shopping and
not paying them any attention. It wasn’t until Tracey said that she thought
this creepy hobo was following them that Chris started to think something was
up.
This weirdo was slinking along on
the other end of the hardware aisles and kept looking at Tracey. Chris thought he
was looking because Tracey was hot and he liked to stare. He could have easily
killed him with one punch, but all he had to do was eyeball him until the hobo
got scared and disappeared.
Later, as they stood in the
checkout line, a bunch of people openly stared and pointed. Chris touched his
hair and tried not to be obvious while he checked himself out. He thought maybe
he had gum stuck to his back or his boxers were showing.
Chris couldn’t figure out what
was so damn funny. Tracey was in front of him. Her back was turned, but he
could see her trying to act like she didn’t notice that people were pointing
and laughing. She was always like that—quiet and good at not letting on if
people got to her. Chris admired the way she kept most people at a distance. It
made people wonder about her, and it was probably why Tracey was popular in
school. She had a way about her that made her desirable, but just out of reach.
The line moved and Tracey started
to unload her basket onto the conveyer belt. That was when her body froze and
her face changed. The whole exchange took seconds, but he remembers her then
like it happened in slow motion. She looked like a different person in that
moment because he had never seen Tracey make that face before. All she said
was, “Oh my god.”
He looked down and that was when he saw it. At
first, Chris thought she had taken it out as some kind of joke, and he didn’t
like it. But then he saw that the clothing hangers that stuck out of her basket
had hooked onto her tank top and pulled it so her fucking tit was just… out. Her little boob was exposed—nipple
and all. It was strange being in a checkout line at the crowded Target with
Tracey’s tit out there for everyone to see, and Chris couldn’t help but laugh.
Tracey unhooked the hangers really fast, like she had a spider on her, and then
she dropped the basket on the conveyer belt and ran away.
He looked around for a second and
mostly everyone standing near him was watching. Chris wasn’t sure if they all
had seen her tit or they just thought he had done something to Tracey to make
her run out of there. He shrugged to the cashier and took off after her. When
he made it to the parking lot, she was by his truck smoking a cigarette. She
knew he hated it when she smoked, but Chris wasn’t going to come down on her
when she was upset. Chris didn’t know why, but he started laughing again. It
wasn’t funny, but he was laughing out of habit or nerves. He knew she was
crying and all, but figured she might start laughing, too. She and Chris had
laughed a lot, and he didn’t have anything else to offer her right then.
Tracey didn’t laugh. She didn’t
even crack a smile when he asked, “Didn’t you feel a breeze?” They got in the
truck, and she still looked like a different girl to him, which made him feel
scared. She was shaking a little, even though it was 100 degrees inside the cab.
“You need a beer?” he asked.
She stared ahead and after a little
while, she told him to take her home. He headed to her house, but he didn’t get
why it was all such a big deal. It was still only 8 o’clock, and they usually
were out until midnight because Tracey hated her parents and only slept and ate
there. Her father was a drunk and her mother had moods and it got pretty intense.
She didn’t talk about it a lot, and they spent most of their time in his
parents’ basement, which Chris made into a chill room. His parents, especially
Chris’s mother, thought he was a saint because they thought Tracey was an angel.
He asked her if she would rather
go to his place because her parents were probably still awake, and she said
softly, “Take me home, Chris.” The way Tracey said his name was different then how
she had said it before. She said it like he was her kid and she was
disappointed in him.
They pulled up to her house, and
that was when Chris said something that he regrets saying. To this day, he
can’t tell you why he said it. He took her hand. “It was your boob, Trace. At
least you didn’t show everyone your cunt.”
Tracey’s face got redder, and she
pulled her hand away from him. She got out of the truck, and then leaned into
the open window and said, “One day, I hope you learn to think.” He thought she
was being a bitch because she was embarrassed that she flashed half of Des
Moines and she’d calm down eventually. But that was the last time she talked to
him.
At school that year, he saw her
with her friends in the hallways and she ignored him. Chris called her house,
but it was like she pretended he was dead. After she graduated, Tracey got into
NYU and moved to her dingy dream city. She’s going to graduate soon. He
sometimes wonders if she’ll ever move back to her hometown—probably not.
It’s been almost five years, but
when he has to go to Target with his wife Michelle to get clothes or whatever
for their son Mac, it’s like every object in that place has Tracey’s face and
her personality. But it’s not the face that she had when they were going out;
it’s the face she had that night when she told Chris that she hoped he learned
to think one day.
He’s not sure why she hated him
so much after that night. He really does
think, but his mouth and his brain don’t always work together, like when he told
Michelle that the Target’s bulls-eye reminded him of a boob because of what
happened with Tracey. She rolled her eyes, and turned her back on him. But
later when he told her about the tiny dark hairs around Tracey’s nipple, she
laughed and they ended up fucking beside the washing machine.
Chris knows he could be better
and that he’s let people down now and then, but Michelle would never quit
talking to him forever. She and Mac and all the people in the bleachers at
Birdland Park cheer him on night after night, and he always plays his heart out,
no matter what. Some nights, when he hits one out of the park, Chris can’t hear
the crack of his bat or the roar of the crowd or his heavy breathing, only the
faint sounds of laughter just out of reach.
Rana Mc Cole traded the mean streets
of North Philadelphia for the sun-drenched byways of Los Angeles at 18 years of
age. She is currently completing her MFA at Antioch University and writing her
first novel. Her stories have appeared in TheRightEyedDeer and
Two Hawks Quarterly. A strict pessimist, she is rumored to reveal
rare instances of positive thinking under the cover of darkness only to her
husband and their beloved dog.