Jimmy nodded. "Yeah. I think it's been good for her."
Dorothy got up to take her bowl back in the kitchen and agreed. "I do too. I just hated seeing her sit at home every night, a young girl like that."
"I just wish some nice boy in town would ask her out," Mother Smith said, "somebody her own age."
Jimmy grunted. "There's nobody around here worth going out with, if you ask me."
Monroe, sporting a new crew cut, his red hair shooting out of his head like wires, said, "I'd take her out… if she'd pay for everything," and thought it was the funniest thing anyone had ever said, punching Bobby in the ribs.
Bobby punched him back. "She wouldn't go out with you, you cootie head."
Jimmy said to Doc, "See what I mean?"
He did not say so, but Jimmy often thought that if he had been younger and had not lost his leg, things would be a lot different. He wondered why the boys who had fallen all over Anna Lee, who would not give most of them the time of day, never paid the least bit of attention to Betty Raye. He was pretty well disgusted with the whole lot of them. When Jimmy had slipped the valentine under her door, he had said to himself, If the local Romeos are so dumb that they cannot see what a fine girl she is, then, by God, he would see to it that the day would not go by without her knowing there was at least one person in town who thought the world of her. Not while he was around at least.
Jimmy was also right about one thing: the bowling team had been good for Betty Raye. A few months before, when Ada and Bess Goodnight had come marching into the house to lobby for her to join the Elmwood Springs ladies bowling team, Dorothy and Mother Smith had encouraged her. And despite her initial reluctance, Bess and Ada could be very persuasive. Ada, the larger of the two, had once worked in the WASP recruiting office and knew just what to say. In the end Betty Raye could not say no. According to Ada it would have been, at the least, unpatriotic, un-American, and letting down the entire female sex if she did not join.
Although Betty Raye was a last-minute replacement and had never bowled or played any sport before, to her surprise, unlike the other Oatmans, she seemed to be a natural athlete. She was graceful and coordinated and after a few lessons from Doc turned out to be a pretty decent bowler. Ada and Bess and their younger sister, Irene, who they called Goodnight Irene, were good too. But nobody was better than Tot Whooten. Just the mention of her name struck fear in the hearts of all the other teams. She was known throughout the county as "Terrible Tot, the left-handed bowler from hell." Tonight they were driving all the way over to the huge new bowling alley in East Prairie. Tot's next-door neighbor Verbena was staying with Darlene and Dwayne Jr. and watching her mother so Tot could go. The county championship was at stake.
Hours later it was down to the wire at the bowling alley. The Elmwood Springs Bombers had matched New Madrid's Wildcats strike for strike, game for game. But the last Wildcat had missed her point and now there was a chance that victory would be theirs.
The atmosphere was tense. Goodnight Irene had just picked up her spare and if Tot could get this last strike and score the extra point, they would win. A hush came over the large, usually noisy, air-conditioned room. Tot, wearing brown slacks with her hair freshly per med for the occasion, stood up, all eyes upon her. She squinted at the pins, put out her cigarette, walked over, picked up the chalk bag, threw it down, hoisted her ball and lifted it high in front of her, concentrated on the spot with all her might, took a deep breath, and let her rip.
The moment the ball left her hand and spun down the alley toward the pins she knew what had happened. In the intensity of the moment and the pressure of knowing that this one throw could mean the championship, she had jammed her fingers into the holes so hard that her wedding ring went down the alley with the ball. Not only did she miss the strike and sprain her finger, but the entire team had to spend hours after the game searching for Tot's ring. They had searched almost four hundred bowling balls with a flashlight before Betty Raye spotted it. But once they had it, the ring would not come out for love nor money and Tot had to buy the bowling ball just to get her ring back.
Even that was no small task. The bull-necked owner of the bowling alley eyed Tot suspiciously. "And just how do I know this is your ring, lady?" Tot could not believe her ears. Hands on her hips, she looked him right in the face and said, "Well, mister, just how many people do you know that have JAMES AND TOT WOO TEN FOREVER written inside their wedding ring?" Betty Raye knew it was not funny but she broke up at Tot's remark and had to walk away while Tot stood there and went at it toe to toe with the owner. She was not going to leave without her ring, even if she had to wait all night, she said. Finally, he sold her the ball and she left in a huff, as the team trailed behind her, vowing never to bowl again. Nobody dared laugh on the drive back to town but they were all dying to.
When Betty Raye arrived home it was late. Dorothy, who could not really rest well until she knew everyone was in for the night, safe and sound, heard Betty Raye come in, laughing all the way to her bedroom.
They must have won, she thought, and rolled over and went to sleep.
The next day Tot carried the bowling ball over to the hardware store, where Macky tried everything he knew to get the ring out, from every size screwdriver to hammer and pliers, but nothing would work. Finally he said, "Mrs. Whooten, I don't know what to tell you but this sucker's stuck for good."
She said, "Thank you anyway, Macky," and took her ball and went home.
True to her word, that ended the short but eventful career of Tot the Terrible, the left-handed bowler from hell. "Wouldn't you know it," she said later, "the only sport I was ever good at." But not only was her career as a bowler over, she lost almost two weeks of work.
"You cannot do pin curls with a sprained finger," she said.
When Bobby called the drugstore, Bertha Ann answered the phone with "Rexall." Bobby said in a voice he thought sounded like a man's, "Do you have Prince Albert smoking tobacco in a can?"
"Yes, we do," she said.
"Well, you better let him out before he suffocates."
Bertha Ann heard Monroe laughing in the background before Bobby hung up.
They were clearly bored. Other than he and Monroe getting caught in his father's den going through his National Geographic magazines looking for pictures of native women with their tops off, and having three cavities filled by Dr. Orr, the summer was turning out to be uneventful. But fate can turn on a dime and fortunes change and one event can alter a child's life forever. Or if not forever, it can certainly change the way he views himself in the world, good or bad. For Bobby that day was here, although to others it might not seem special.
Jimmy got up as usual at 4:30, lit his first cigarette, made the coffee, put on his white shirt and pants and black leather bow tie, and was down at the Trolley Car Diner at 5:00. Jimmy didn't know it yet, but he would be the first one in the Smith household to find out what was happening that day. This morning he went about his business as usual. He had great pride in his diner and kept it spotless. Every morning the black-and white tile floor was scrubbed sparkling clean.
The silver chrome on the counters and on the base of all the round red leather stools was polished and kept as shiny as a new car in a showroom. He gave the doors and the light green cigarette machine on the wall a wipe-down as well. Next he cut the pies chocolate a sky-high lemon-meringue, apple and a marble pound cake in slices and placed them on small white plates and put them in his display case. He chopped onions, put pickles in a small chrome container, and placed a handful of toothpicks with bright red and orange cellophane on the tops in a small thick glass. He then wiped down the grill and removed slices of cheese, plus eggs, bacon, hamburger patties, weenies, tomatoes, and lettuce from the icebox. He fried up a batch of bacon and got his potatoes for hash browns and sliced the tomatoes. Last, he cut open several loaves of Merita white bread and dozens of hamburger and hot dog buns and was ready to open.
Jimmy had learned to cook in the navy and was a short-order cook of the first order. He could fry eggs any way you wanted and make a grilled cheese sandwich to perfection, golden brown, just right with the cheese dripping down the sides of the crust, or make a bacon, lettuce, and tomato so good you wanted another one before you finished the first. At exactly one minute to six he put on a clean apron, his white paper hat with the red stripe, and opened the door for business. To his surprise, there stood Bobby.
"Hey. What are you doing downtown so early?"
Bobby said, "Couldn't sleep, so I figured I'd come on down and have a cup of coffee with you. You know, the bubble gum contest is today."
"Oh, that's right. Well, come on in."
Jimmy knew that Dorothy did not let him drink coffee but he figured a little bit wouldn't hurt him. Bobby climbed up on a stool and Jimmy put out a thick white cup and saucer and poured him a half cup. Bobby picked up the container and happily added four teaspoons of sugar.
"So what do you think your chances are, buddy?"
"I don't know. I came pretty close last year."
"Do you want something to eat?"
"No, I think I better not." He added another spoonful of sugar. "You know, the secret is breath control. I learned that the last timeI ran out of breath right at the end or I would have won."
"I see. So what's your plan of attack this year… your strategy?"
Bobby took a sip of his coffee. "I've been practicing every day and trying to build up my breath control, holding my head underwater in the tub. But other than that, I don't know what else to do. I was kind of hoping you might give me some last-minute advice."
"Have you practiced any yet this morning?"
"Not yet. I thought I'd get in a couple of hours before nine."
Jimmy opened a large can of chili and thought carefully before he spoke. "Well, here's my advice. Now, you can take it or leave it, but now, if I were you, I wouldn't practice at all this morning."
"Not at all?"
"I wouldn't. You can pretty much figure that everybody else will, right?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"So if you walk in nice and rested you have an advantage. See what I mean?"
Bobby's eyes widened. "Yeah… I see!"
"You save up all your energy for the big push when you need it. And when you're up there, concentrate. Remain calm and steady as she goes. Don't look right, don't look left, don't let yourself get rattled, just stay the course, nice and easy all the way."
Bobby listened intently. "Yeah. Don't get rattled… nice and easy."
"What's the prize on this thing?"