Chapter Two
(Eight Years Later)
We worked all day in the fields and the barn with the cows. Around sundown when the mountains stood tall with shadows, Hunter and I met up with Jasper and Cameron by the tractor where they were sitting. I pulled out my pouch of tobacco and began rolling a cigarette.
"What are we doing tonight?" asked Hunter scratching his short blonde hair.
"Barger’s having a party," said Jasper.
Cameron shrugged. Jasper gave him a funny look, "What?"
"We always go to the fields."
Hunter laughed, "What’s wrong with the fields?"
"It’s the same shit."
Jasper nodded, "Getting drunk and pissing your pants?"
"No that was you," said Cameron.
"Ah, I had a fucking beer in my pocket."
"Cameron just wants to hang out with his girlfriend," I said trying to antagonize.
"Yeah, she sucks," Jasper said pointing to my cigarette, "Roll me one of those." I handed him the one I had and rolled another.
Cameron’s girlfriend, Alice, was a short energetic brunette who gave everybody but Cameron a hard time. She was always telling us what to do.
"She is a little bossy," said Hunter loosening up the laces on his boots.
"Fuck you, Sara isn’t any better," Cameron snapped.
Sara, Hunter’s girlfriend, was a tall blonde, relaxed and casual. She was easier on the friends, but more demanding of Hunter and his personal time.
"Sara is low-maintenance," Hunter said defending his girlfriend.
"What about that shirt she bought you?"
"What about it?"
"It’s a towel t-shirt," Jasper said.
I was confused, "A what?"
Jasper laughed, "It’s a t-shirt that is made of towel material and it has pretty rainbow stripes."
Hunter shook his head, "I like that t-shirt."
Cameron smiled, "I know for a fact you hate that shirt because every time she asks you about it, you always say that I stole it."
"Are we ready to go?" asked Hunter trying to avoid the topic as we laughed at him.
"We have to go to the diamond first; Mikey has a little league game," Jasper said referring to his brother.
The four of us loaded into the small red Chevy S-10, Hunter and Jasper sat in the cab and Cameron and I sat in the bed. We drove through our miniature town which had two gas stations across the street from each other, one of which sold the best egg salad I had ever had. There was also the Pizza House, the only shop in town that made pizza by the slice. We had a liquor store that sold to anybody that looked old enough, and last but not least, a McDonalds; capitalism finds even the smallest of niches. Everybody knew everybody and that was okay because there wasn’t really much to talk about.
***
We arrived at the game half way through and stood against the fence. Parents filled the stands on the far side yelling and clapping. Everybody came out for the little league games because somebody always had a cousin of a cousin. There wasn’t much to do as far as entertainment in our town. The little league World Series in our town was the closest thing we had to a riot. It always came down to the same two teams, the Red Sox and the Yankees. There was a division between Yankee fans and Red Sox fans, in the MLB, but it just so happened that the parents of children split up the little league teams the same way. When one of the teams, little league teams, won the world series of small town Vermont baseball it was as if the real team won too. If an outsider came to town and heard a conversation about the matter they wouldn’t have any idea what was going on because they’d never heard of a Kevin Holdersmith who played third base for the Red Sox whose father, Reg Holdersmith, owned the crème stand on route ten. It was crazy, but it was
our town and we loved it; well, some of us.
"It’s like a goddamn high school reunion every time we come here," Cameron said," Hey Lloyd, na don’t come over here, don’t worry about it, sit, sit."
The hotdog vendor walked by us.
"Anybody want a dog?" Jasper asked as he bought one, "Have there been any good baseball players to come outta Vermont?"
"Yeah there was that one kid who got drafted from Essex," replied Hunter.
"Na, he washed out at Boston College," Cameron said, "No good baseball players come outta here."
"Including yours truly," I said patting Cameron on the back. He and Hunter had played baseball in high school.
"All these little bastards are wasting their time." Jasper said, "That kid on third base should definitely quit." The player on third base didn’t even have his glove on or fit into his uniform.
"They play because they love to play, what’s wrong with you?" sighed Hunter, but Jasper paid no attention.
"What are we drinking tonight?" asked Cameron.
"Loadeds," Hunter responded.
"Is that the Corona with the shot of Bacardi Limon in it?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"When do you wanna go, cause I gotta drop a deuce." Jasper begged.
I pointed to the other side of the field, "There’s a Porto Potty right over there."
"Na, that ain’t for me, just a little too close to somebody else’s shit, you know? It’s like a cesspool of viruses having an S&M orgy in there."
Cameron looked at Jasper, "You are so disgusting. Let’s go."
"I’m not disgusting!" Jasper explained, "You’re disgusting…for trying to make me use that thing…you’re the disgusting one!"
***
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