Continued from July post...See those children down there ...

But the Spring came and I didn't feel anymore like battin a ball than I did throwin a football in the fall weather. Daddy was alright with it though; he'd pat me on the head, grab his whiskey glass and say, well maybe your mamas'right; just go play in those books of yours. Every once in awhile - and I hated this - he'd say why don't you call up that cute little girl that's always hanging around the baseball field, what's her name - Emily Anne and ask her to come over to help you with that math homework of yours. He'd always slap his hand on mama's shoulder, give her a kiss on her cheek and chuckle when he said this. Mama would laugh too and say oh hush up daddy and let the boy be.

Now I just down and out hated Emily Anne. She reminded me of Mrs. Cumberlink. She had a similarly sick sweet smell; not like that Lily of the Valley though, more like burnt carmel coated popcorn. She was the smartest girl in the class; but to hear our teacher and the principal talk you'd think she was the smartest girl in the world. She was good at science, never forgot a date in history, knew the capital of every state and knew everything there ever was to know about math. She would help anyone and everyone with their math homework and I mean everybody. She helped the girls and she helped the boys, and I think she helped the boys more and the boys helped her. Why prett-near every time we went to the baseball field to practice for a game she was there. She'd bring her books and her girlfriends and they'd sit in the bleachers a yappin. One was either too hot, or too cold, or wanted to catch the baseball and above all they all wanted to talk to Jimmy. Come to think of it she even looked like Jimmy. She had that pretty blond hair just like he did; only he seemed more interesting to me than she did.

Of all the girls, she probably was the least interested in Jimmy, although she had no trouble askin him to help her with her shoe, or fetch her sweater or whatever else she cold think of; but I really think she liked Herman Miller. Couldn't prove it by no one though; every time Herman looked at her she looked at the dirt by the diamond on the field and Herman well he'd look right away at the same time. Seemed stupid to me; but guess that's because I was trying to get some sort of interest in the dumb game by watching Jimmy. I couldn't help but wonder how'd Jimmy's hair get as long and curly and pretty as hers when she was just a stupid girl.

Now the problem was Jimmy; the problem was always Jimmy and that temper of his. Ya see, I use to watch Jimmy at those games; and Jimmy, when he wasn't watching the baseball, use to watch Emily Anne. Seemed to me Jimmy use to look at Emily Anne the same way daddy use to look at Mrs. Cumberlink; but Emily Anne - when she wasn't yappin with the girls, or pickin at a fingernail, or somehow getting her homework done, well - she was watching Herman Miller.

Now Herman Miller ... to be continued