Helena Mary Cole

When Jay gets back on the mound to pitch the bottom of the second, there’s a subtle shift in the crowd’s attention, but I am too caught up in the game to bother looking and seeing what the big deal is. Jay has already thrown a strike before I glance to the bottom left-hand side of the stand and see that Alex and Sandy have arrived. Half of the people sitting in the bottom row have had to get up and move over to make room for Sandy. Alex has taken up the space at the end of the row, where a portion of the original bench has been cut away and the concrete underneath painted blue. It looks like a pretty low-budget wheelchair section, but it seems to work. He finishes maneuvering his chair into the space as I watch, and Sandy sits down beside him. I notice that people in the front row have given her a fair amount of space, despite the crowded stand, but I have yet to witness the snobbishness that Jay accused her of before. She immediately engages the woman sitting next to her in conversation.

            “Oh, look, Alex came out tonight,” Ivy says suddenly in my ear.

            I jump because this comment is bursting like a trumpet into some pretty steady thoughts. I want to pounce on the chance to talk about Alex without being the one to bring his name into the conversation, but I am stumped as to what to say. “Yeah,” I say, to buy a bit of time. Then, “Aunt Ruby says she used to see him around more when he was little.”

            “Really?” Ivy says, “Well, I guess she would know. We still see him around sometimes but we see Sandy nearly every day.”

            “Seems backwards,” I say, “When he’s the one who lives here and she doesn’t.”

            Ivy says, “True. She lives in Dovecote. But d’you know people around here already call her the First Lady of Edenbridge?”

            “Okay. Why?” I say.

            She shrugs. “She’s marrying a Hale. And we’re forever seeing her around town. Do you know practically everybody’s doing something for the wedding? Flora’s is baking the cake; Debbie Flynn is catering; my parents are supplying the champagne…”

            Great. Now we’re talking about the wedding. “Mm-hm,” I say. I look over at the pair of them again. I see Sandy lean towards Alex to say something to him. She puts a hand on his arm. The sight makes a lump drop into my throat all of a sudden.

            “It’s kind of a joke,” Ivy says now.

            I don’t remember what she’s talking about but Lauren asks, “What’s kind of a joke?”

            “Calling Sandy Summerville the First Lady of Edenbridge,” Ivy says.

            Lauren snorts. “Yeah, like that’s any kind of great honour.”

            “Keep your voice down,” Ivy laughs, “She’s sitting right over there.”

            “She knows what people around here call her,” Lauren says.

            Just then, the Dovecote batter strikes out and the stands erupt with cheers. Jay waves at the stand and sees for the first time that Alex and Sandy are there. He points at them briefly and does a sort of celebratory jump that looks ridiculous but is endearing in its way.

            The three guys sitting in front of us get up and start moving to the right towards the stairs. One of them accidentally knocks my little cone of popcorn out of my hands. I try to catch it before it falls but before I know it, it’s disappeared under the bleachers.

            “Sorry about that,” the guy says. I turn away because he has monstrous bad breath. “Want me to get you another one?”

            “No, that’s okay, it was almost gone anyway,” I say, still not looking at him. He’s also sort of weasel-faced.

            “Whatever you say, milk carton girl,” he says as he shuffles away after his friends.

            “Ashton Fox, you are such a klutz,” Lauren throws some of her popcorn at him as he leaves but it doesn’t hit him and he doesn’t even notice she threw it.

            I am staring the place he just occupied, stunned. “What did he just call me?” I demand of Ivy.

            “I don’t know,” she says quickly.

            “I thought he said ‘milk carton girl.’”

            “Could be,” Ivy stuffs a little popcorn in her mouth.

            “Why would he call me that?” I ask, speaking more to the universe than to the two of them.

            I guess Lauren feels the need to speak for the universe, “I didn’t get it at first, either, but my mom says they used to print pictures of missing kids on milk cartons. You ran away in Jay’s car, dummy.”

            “I did not run away,” I protest.

            “You were missing,” Lauren says.

            “I was not,” I say, “I borrowed Jay’s car to get to the Old Hall and forgot to leave a note.”

            Lauren gives me a dry look. “No one remembers it that way.”

            This sinks in for a beat or two, then I heave an enormous sigh that’s half a groan.

            “It’s not the worst one out there,” Lauren says, which is no comfort whatsoever.

            “Look at it this way: you’ll be gone by the end of the summer and then what will it matter?” Ivy says with a sigh. But this is more of an encouraging thought.

            All the same, my mood continues to plummet. It always amazes me how quickly a pack of negative thoughts can overwhelm me like so many bats fluttering around my head. I try to cheer myself up by looking at Alex but Sandy is still right next to him and the sight is not at all cheering. And just like that, all I want is to go to my little flowered bedroom on Hemlock and take some time for myself.

            I stand up.

            “What’s going on?” Ivy says instantly, “You’re not leaving, are you?”

            “Um,” I say, trying to think up an excuse, “I’m just going to buy a can of pop.”

            “But the game’s just getting started. At least stay till the end of the first half.”

            Lauren says, “It’s baseball, Ivy, there are no halves, just innings.”

            “Whatever,” Ivy says.

            People in the row beside me are already shifting their knees sideways, to make room for me to shuffle past. “I’m really thirsty,” I say as I head in that direction.

            “Okay. See you later,” Ivy says.

            Nobody ever buys my made-up excuses. I am a terrible liar. But she’s stopped trying to talk me into staying and I appreciate that.

            As I start shuffling away, I hear Ivy mutter to Lauren, “Ash is so insensitive. You don’t call people names like that.” And I feel a little surge of affection for her.

            When I get to the stairs, I begin to realize that I’m not out of the woods. I’m going to have to sneak past Alex, who is sitting only two rows down on the aisle. He hasn’t seen me yet—he’s watching the game—but I notice Sandy is no longer sitting beside him. So there’s no one to distract him. This is going to take some skill. As I watch, an older gentleman stops to say something to Alex but there’s too much noise to hear what it is. For a second, I think this is my chance but then Alex only makes a brief reply and the man moves on.

            I’m starting to feel pretty foolish, just standing here on the stairs. By a stroke of sheer luck, at that exact moment, the game gets interesting. The bat and ball make contact. It looks like an infield groundball so everyone gets to their feet to see if Edenbridge can turn a double play. I start to move down the stairs. I’m pretty sure the double play has been successful because a loud cheer erupts. This is all getting to be too much.

            I turn my back to Alex as much as I can. I have my eyes on the goal; I can see the other side of the tunnel beneath the stand. Then suddenly, I hear Alex’s voice say, “Jordan?”

            I consider pretending I didn’t hear. It’s no use. Even supposing I really didn’t hear, someone else did for sure because the cheering has died down. Who knows what they’d say about me if the milk carton girl snubbed Alex Hale at the ball game? I am also starting to become aware that the sound of his voice saying my name produces a tingling sensation along my spine from top to bottom. I think him calling me back is the only thing that could make me stay here. I turn around and say, “Hey.” But I’m frozen to the spot.

            “Come here for a minute,” he says.

            Somehow, this enables me to go. “What’s up?” I say in a fake light tone, trying to figure out if I should sit where Sandy has just been sitting or not. I somehow manage to take a seat awkwardly.

            He says, “Well, for starters, I want to know why you’re trying to sneak past me without even saying hello. Call me crazy, but I thought we were better friends than that.”

            I flush. “Oh,” I stall, “I was just going to buy a can of pop. I’m really thirsty.”

            “All right. Go get yourself a can of pop. When you come back, will you sit with me for a few minutes?”

            What is he trying to do to me? I start to shift uncomfortably. “Um…”

            “Oh, I get it. You weren’t coming back,” he lets a short silence pass, “Long day, huh?”

            “Yeah, but…” I decide to tell him what happened, or part of it anyway. I lower my voice and lean towards him, “Do you know they call me ‘milk carton girl’ because I borrowed Jay’s car that day without asking and supposedly went missing for all of five minutes?”

            Thank goodness he doesn’t laugh. Instead, he frowns and says, “Did you say milk carton girl?”

            I nod.

            “It’s so funny you said that because five minutes ago, Ed Nelson stopped to ask me how the milk carton portrait was coming along. I didn’t know what he was talking about—I thought it was just another one of their jokes. I told him I’m not Andy Warhol but all he did was give me a funny look and walk away.”

            “Milk carton portrait?” I say as I start to piece something together, “Wait a minute…”

            “Yeah,” Alex grins, “I don’t think he was talking about a painting of a milk carton; I think he meant—”

            “The painting of me was going to be on a milk carton.”

            “Because you ran away, yes. That’s actually really witty for this town.”

            I smile weakly.

            He adds, “Ed probably thought he was being polite, asking about my work. But listen, Jordan, try not to take it too personally, okay? People around here are always picking on outsiders.”

            “It’s just that, this is not the reputation I was going for when I came here this summer.”

            “No, I’m sure it’s not.”

            “How far do I have to go before I stop being that weird girl with all the problems?”

            He laughs, “You’re asking the wrong guy.”

            The bat makes contact with the ball again and more cheering erupts behind us but dies down quickly because the Edenbridge runner is out on first. When the noise started, I made a motion as if to put my hands over my ears but when it gets quiet so quickly, I try to pass the move off as stretching and yawning. But I don’t think Alex buys it. He says, “Well, don’t let me keep you here, Jordan, if you want to go.”

            I hesitate. “Are you staying till the end?”

            He nods, “I think so. I mean, I’ll try to stick it out for Jay’s sake. I’ve always liked watching him do his thing, actually.”

            I am looking out at the diamond. “I don’t know that much about baseball, but yeah.”

            “It shows more when he’s playing soccer, but trust me, he’s a very talented athlete,” he tells me, sounding quite proud.

            “Yeah, I get that.”

            Erin Belden walks by just then, but she stops and says, “Hi, Alex, how’s it going?”

            “Hi, Erin,” he replies.

            She makes some comment, clearly just passing by, but she gives me a long look that makes me shrink away from her. It’s so intense, I don’t hear what Alex says to her next. She laughs and moves on. Now I’m wondering if I can just get up and leave but I’m guessing not. I’m guessing it would be weird, even though Alex just told me he didn’t want to keep me here. How do I rewind the conversation back to that part? And if I leave, do I have to get someone to take my place? I ask, “Is Sandy coming back soon?”

            “Uh,” he looks over his shoulder as if to see where she is, “Probably not. Looks like she’s working the stands and she hasn’t even started on the Dovecote side yet. She could be a while.”

            “She just leaves you here all by yourself?”

            He shrugs. “She’ll be back.”

            I am remembering the half-timid look he gave me before when he asked me to come sit with him, just starting to understand it. I’m getting the idea that Alex is sort of shy, something that gets lost on you when you see him at home, in his own natural habitat, among his family and friends. He’s kind of like me that way.

            Well, hm.

            Should I stay? Would I want him to stay if it were me in his place?

            There’s another cracking sound as the ball gets hit high into the air and everyone stands up, cheering. I take a deep breath and sit on my hands. My posture has gone rigid. I notice vaguely that the ball has been hit out of the park and the Edenbridge crowd goes berserk. I feel a hand on my arm.

            Of course, it’s Alex’s hand. “Jordan, just go, okay? Don’t worry about it. Just go.”

            I don’t want to go. The butterflies in my stomach have just lit up and flung me into the stars. But he’s right. The noise is very obnoxious. I smile at him gratefully. “I’ll see you around?” I say as I stand up.

            “I’m sure you will,” he says.

            At the mouth of the tunnel below the stands, I stop and turn back. He is not looking at me. Jay appears to be wandering over towards him, rolling the shoulder of his pitching arm. I wait until I see Jay sit down where I’ve just been sitting and I see them enter into conversation. Then I leave.

            Already when I reach the other side of the stand, I feel better. It’s much quieter here. By the time I turn right on Hemlock, I noticed I’ve started to hum a little tune to myself again.

            I am thinking about Alex. Nonstop.