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Show Car Baseball Butch and Fenn Stories 41 "Ah. We better not do that for a while," I say. My father replaced the window right away and the new glass wrecks the game for me. We give up too on Bottlecap-it doesn't work with three; Liners-too much trouble; Roofball, no good place to play since they tore down the old park restrooms; and Fenceball, for which you need about six players. Fenn decides to lower his debts and buys me another rootbeer so he can have one himself. He's down to twenty cents with me, and I'm going to have to swindle him again soon. He stands at the jukebox, but Butch and I know it's going to be Chopin's Polonaise and then Love Me Tender. "Money to burn," Butch says to me as he gathers his "papers and"lifts off the stool. "Hey, not yet," Fenn says as Butch passes him on his way out. "Piano music is good for your throwing arm." We play targets for a while behind the pharmacy. The game never lasts long because if one of us lucks out and strikes one of the bottles we have set-up, the noise brings the Beast out in a hurry. Finally, Fenn tries to throw a chunk of concrete and it veers right and whacks the back of the metal door. We run down the alley clutching our record books. "Nice arm," Butch says. "You should listen to more piano music." "Let's get that tennis ball back from Tiny and play Wall." "He's eaten it by now." |
