The Boys of Summer

[SexyChele]

A closed thread between Ariosto and SexyChele. We invite you to read along, and comments via PM are always welcome. If you feel you might have a character that would add to the story, please feel free to contact with Ariosto or SexyChele with your idea – we are open to adding other characters, but only through PM invitation. Thank you, and enjoy!

1946 – In a small town in Indiana

Nancy Roberts woke up in the bedroom of her new apartment and for a moment was startled. Where was she? She quickly sat up before she remembered – this was her home now. Sighing, she let herself sink back on the pillows and pulled up the covers. She stared out the window and beginning rays of sunshine, which had been the cause of her sudden wakefulness.

Nancy had arrived late last night, and had found the keys to this place right where the landlord had said they would be, in the mailbox. It was a nice place for a small one bedroom apartment. Furnished in the same manner that all furnished apartments seemed to be. Nancy hoped she would be happy here. It seemed like forever since she was happy, and it was time for her laugh again. She only hoped she hadn’t forgotten how to.

1941 – San Francisco

Nancy had been a young girl that summer, just turned 18 and graduated from high school. She had so many opportunities ahead of her, and was looking forward to going to college in the city where she had been born and grown up. That was also the summer she meant Michael Roberts. He was in the navy, stationed in San Francisco. He had been tall, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. His smile was easy, his wit sharp, and a gentleman always.

They had met in the department store where Nancy had worked, and though she fought to resist the handsome young sailor, he soon won her over. She was soon to learn he had a passion for all things baseball. He had played shortstop in high school, and continued the position in a local team at home in his native Texas before enlisting in the Navy. He had taken Nancy to her first baseball game on their second date, and though she found it a bit confusing at times, Michael’s enthusiasm was infectious and she soon found herself transfixed by his explanation of strategy and plays and players. They spent many afternoons eating “red hots” and rooting for favored local players. And they had spent many nights wrapped in each other arms, watching the moon rise over the Bay.

Then, December 7 arrived and their lives changed forever. When the news of the bombing of Pearl Harbor arrived in San Francisco, it was hard to comprehend. Michael had to explain to Nancy just where Pearl Harbor was. But President Roosevelt’s speech later that day wasn’t difficult to understand – the US was at war.

Nancy had spent the afternoon crying and sobbing into Michael’s uniform. How could she let her sailor go? His ship was being called out to sea within a matter days, as was every other ship along the West Coast. It was that evening that Michael proposed to Nancy, and she accepted. Two days later, they joined a long line of other “war” couples at the courthouse who were lining up to get married. Nancy and Michael had only three days and nights together before he shipped out.

Nancy follows the War in the Pacific with great interest. She had a great map that Michael had left behind, and on it she kept track of ship’s locations and battle locations. She wrote Michael almost daily, as did he to her. In the next three years, Michael only was allowed home one time for two weeks, in the spring of 1944. They spent long hours in the tiny apartment Nancy had rented. Baseball had been suspended with the war, but there were a few all girl teams, they managed to catch one game so Michael could satisfy his “fix”.

Then, in the summer of 1944, Nancy’s world came crashing down around her. The boy from the telegraph office look about as miserable delivering the telegram as she did receiving it. It was difficult to believe that Michael was dead, killed in some skirmish in the middle of the Pacific. A few months later, his personal effects arrived, and Nancy knew Michael wasn’t coming home. She slipped into a darkness she never thought she would come out of.

1945 – San Francisco

It was difficult to believe that after almost 4 years, the war was over. Nancy watched from her apartment on the 3rd floor as the streets of the city filled with people. Everyone was laughing and dancing and kissing and hugging and crying all at once. Thankfulness for the end of the war, sorrow at the lives lost. Nancy sunk to the floor holding Michael’s picture and cried until she had no more tears to cry.

1946 – Indiana

Nancy laid in her bed and felt the cool dawn breeze of Spring rush over her cheeks. She couldn’t take San Francisco any longer. Too many memories everywhere she turned. She had learned about this town from a co-worker of hers – in fact this apartment was owned by her uncle. She had helped Nancy make arrangements, and the uncle had even managed to secure a position for her in one of the town’s 3 small department stores. Nancy had packed her clothes and bought the train ticket, and had just arrived last night.

Stretching, she climbed from bed and slipped on her robe. Quickly making the bed, she went to the kitchenette to make some coffee before slipping into the shower. When she came back out to the living room, she noticed the note under the door. She picked it up and noticed it was from her landlord.

Nancy,
Glad to see you made it into town. Didn’t want to disturb you, but I know what it’s like to be in a new place. Saturdays around here can be pretty dull for those not used to living here, but we do have a minor league baseball team that plays out by the high school Saturday afternoons. If you feel up to it, you might want to check it out. They can be pretty good, sometimes. Call me if you need anything.
Bill

Nancy smiled at his concern for her. But….baseball? No. She couldn’t, just couldn’t. She poured her coffee and turned on the radio. She stared out the window. Is that how she was to spend the day? It looked to be a beautiful day. There was no reason for her to stay cooped up like this. Besides, Michael wouldn’t have wanted this for her, would he? Baseball. Maybe that would be the way to bring Michael’s memory closer to her. Yes, why not?

She quickly changed into a light dress that clung to her slim figure and found a hat with a wide brim that framed her face perfectly. Her blond hair was just shoulder length, soft and wavy. Her hazel eyes, flecked with gold, were her best attribute besides her full lips and drop dead legs. She walked out of the apartment and into the sunshine, determined to find the baseball diamond and determined to have a good time.

 

[ariosto]

OOC....Chele thanks for putting up this marvelous introduction. I'll be posting slowly the next few days but will have my opening post up by tomorrow evening. Wewould like two other players at least. Please PM Chele or myself if your interested.

 

[ariosto]

October, 1942...

Yankee Stadium, sixth game of the world series...

"...Strike two! One strike to go folks and this series is in the books. Crespi steps to the plate, it's three and two...one way or another...Here's the pitch!...Fastball, inside...IT'S A HIT!..That ball is GOING!..Going...GONE!..The Cards win it!..A Grand Slam Homerun by Frank Crespi!..This series is going to game seven!"


And that was it. The high point of Francis O'Malley Crespi's Major League career come and gone. The Cardinal's lost game seven five to zip and the Yankees had one more series to add to their bulging record.
The next year many of the boys went off to war and Frank's batting average fell to a dismal .245. There was talk in the Card's front office of trading him or sending him down to Springfield or even Clinton. Only the constant drain of talent to the military kept him on a big league roster and he knew it.

He'd come a long way for a poor kid from the Saint Louis Italian ghetto and the room above his grandfather's "Shamrock Tavern" where his Irish mother had settled them after Carlo Crespi took a flyer one last time. So maybe it was time to hang up the bat for a year or two and do his Patriotic Duty...take a break and come back fresh.

In October 1943 Frank went to war.
In November 1944 he came back with enough shrapnel in his left leg, courtesy of a german land mine near Metz, to effectively render him a non combatant to the Army and in all probability big league baseball as well.
The Cardinals let him come back for Spring training in '45 but even with the green kids and old geezers that made up the 1945 war team, he was hopeless.
They moved him from second to first but it didn't help. The leg was soft, it buckled unexpectedly and he'd be laid up for days afterwards.
On the morning of March 30th, he got the expected call to the GM's office.
The thought of going back to the old neighborhood, of starting over somewhere else of doing anything but baseball terrified him. It had been his ticket out, it had been his life for 15 years. He was nearly thirty years old..a used up young old man.

He paused for one last moment at the door, knowing when he stepped out of the office that he'd be out of uniform for the first time in his adult life.

He was wrong...




TYLER INDIANA...late summer, 1945...

The screen door to the tin shed office of the Tyler Tornados, (single A, Cardinal's farm team), did little to keep the flies away and nothing to keep the heat out of Frank's refuge and he gave up trying to maintain decorum in the sweltering heat wave by tossing his sweat stained uniform shirt onto the cracked leather couch...

"Hey watch it!"
Woody Parsons, the antique but fiesty, batting, fielding and pitching coach made a face and returned to his dog eared copy of the Sporting News.
"Frank, it says here that Williams is home and may be in some games before the season's over. How about that, maybe Boston will have a chance..."

Crespi grunted and took a last look at the line up chart for this afternoons game, deciding finally to strike out Sorenson's name and replace it with the new kid Benny Seitz, a left hander. What was he...17 years old...maybe.
He wondered if the returning Cardinal players might bump a few good talents tumbling down this far.
Probably not.
But he'd done pretty damned good with what he'd been given and he was grateful for it.
They could have given him a pat on the back and a crutch and sent him on his way but they hadn't, they'd given him a last place
team in the single A Ohio Valley League to manage instead.
Last year they were 36 and 104. This year...if they won today...they'd break .500 and maybe just maybe have a shot at the league championship...then possibly he'd be called up again. Not to play of course but a nice coaching job in Saint Louis...

"Hey Frank! are you in there? Come on out I have someone I want you to meet!"
It was Bill Campbell who owned a bit of this team and had become a stalwart drinking buddy during the long season.

Without thinking, Crespi stepped out onto the summer yellowed grass of Legion Field and blinked in the bright sunlight.

"Why Mister Crespi," Came a soft feminine voice,
"I believe you've lost your shirt."

 

[SexyChele]

Nancy recognized the name and the face immediately. She had heard Michael talk of Frank Crespi with a great deal of enthusiasm - he had shown a great deal of potential. Before the war, that was. Nancy had wondered what journey this man had taken to wind up here. It must have been quite a tumble.

Still, she put on her brightest smile as she walked up to him, her hand extended. She noted he quickly rubbed it on his pants before grabbing hers and shaking it soundly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Crespi, despite the lack of shirt." She gave Bill a grin at Frank's obvious slight embarassment. "My late husband admired your playing a good deal. I believe you played for the Cardinals at one time?"

Nancy bit her lip at that comment. She hoped he wouldn't take it as an insult. She certainly didn't mean to make any enemies her first day in town.

"Nancy Roberts this is Frank Crespi, though it sounds as though you already know of him," Bill introduced them. "Frank, Nancy just arrived last night from San Francisco. I thought her takning in the game might be a way to let her get to know some of the folks from around here."

Nancy heard Frank mumble something in response, then excused himself. When he returned, he was quickly pulling on his uniform shirt, and Nancy laughed lightly.

"I hope you didn't do that for my sake, Mr. Crespi. I assure you I've seen a man without a shirt before."

As he looked up at her, Nancy felt a stirring she hadn't felt in quite some time, and she was surprised by it. She tried to shrug off the feeling, and smiled at Frank once again.

"And how do you think the Tornadoes will do this afternoon? Is the $2.00 bet with Bill worth it, in your opinion?"

 

[ariosto]

She was pretty and most likely one of Bill Campbell's girls. Bill was a very eligable bachelor and seemed to always have a surplus of women around him. It helps when your Dad's the biggest farm equipment dealer in Indiana.

Frank had had his share of classy dolls too back when he was a rising star, before the war, before...

"Yeah I played for them awhile, and I don't know about your bet."
He cast a cold glance at Bill.
"Which one of you bet against us?"

Campbell colored slightly and shuffled his feet in the dust.
"Ahhh...well we are playing Evansville aren't we?...You know...number one and all. Scoggins is pitching...and...."

Nancy laughed and interrupted, her eyes sparkled up at Crespi,
"Oh come on now! Bill just took my bet for fun. It doesn't mean anything at all...I had to have someone to play with didn't I ?."

*I'd love to play with you for a few hours baby...*
Frank flushed the thought from his mind and turned towards the field where their own pitcher, a tall blonde kid named Junior Lefevre was pitching heat to Owney Finn the Tornadoes long time catcher. The sound of the ball hitting the glove was like a rifle shot.
"Take a look at Junior, he's got sweet curves too Miss Roberts, almost as nice as yours."

Nancy wasn't sure whether to be flattered or insulted by the remark but the boy did indeed look pretty damned good.

 

[SexyChele]

Nancy glanced at Frank and then at the young pitcher he had just indicated. Her mind tumbled over Frank's comment - she had curves almost as sweet as the pitcher's? She eyed the man in front of her and wondered. Was he.....one of those?

"He looks as though he truly knows the art of pitching, Mr. Crespi," Nancy replied politely. "Indeed, he looks very good. Should have no problems making it to the majors. Don't you think so, Mr. Crespi?"

Nancy bit her tongue as soon as the words left her mouth, but there was nothing to do about it now. As Frank's head snapped back to her, she flushed, and stammered out a reply.

"I'm sure a seasoned ball player as you would be more than happy to see some one like him make the big time. Isn't that right?"

"Yeah, I guess so. But you forget, Mrs. Roberts, pitching isn't my part of the game."

"Isn't it, Mr. Crespi? It seems that most ball players can always throw a pitch or two."

As their eyes met, a high female voice cried out from behind Nancy.

"Bill! Just where have you been? Hiding from me, no doubt! And Frank! Love - I just had to wish you luck before the game!"

Nancy watched as an attractive woman about her own age came striding up to them. Well, perhaps jiggle was more the word. Though the woman didn't seem to have any fat on her, she somehow - jiggled. She walked up to Bill, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight, before walking over to Frank and grabbing his face between her hands.

"This is for luck," she stated, before she kissed Frank long and hard. Nancy coughed and glanced and looked up at Bill who appeared to be somewhat dazed, yet smiling.

As the kiss finally came to a conclusion, Bill stepped forward and grabbed the woman's arm.

"Uh, let me introduce you. Nancy Roberts this is Shirley Patterson. Shirly, Nancy just got into town last night. She's renting that little place behind my house."

"Why, hello sweetie," Shirley cried out. "I'm so happy to meet you! Now, you have to take care about this lug Bill here. He looks innocent enough, but he moves faster than Junior's fast ball!" Shirley giggled at her own joke, as Nancy glanced at Frank. He appeared to watch Shirley with amused interest, and she wondered what the true history was behind what she was seeing.

"Now, Bill, you promised me that you were taking me to the game! And here I find you with another woman!" Shirley's squeal could certainly be heard all the way up into the stands.

"I know, sugar, and I am. But I thought Nancy might like to get in some local color, you know?" Bill turned towards Frank and extended his hand. "Good luck, Frank. I'll be watching with the ladies from the stands. Do Tyler proud! Nancy, coming?"

"I'll be right there, Bill." She watched as Bill lumbered off, Shirley wrapped around his arm. She looked at Frank and extended her hand. "Good luck, Mr. Crespi. It has been a pleasure meeting you, and I hope to see you again."

 

[ariosto]

He took her hand. It was cool to the touch and very smooth.
"Call me Frank and thanks, we'll most probably need a bit of luck."

The game went to extra innings and in the bottom of the eleventh with the sun already setting, Frank Crespi came into pinch hit for his tired pitcher in a desperate attempt to keep the game from being called a tie due to darkness, (lights were unknown at Legion Field), and belted a line drive into left center.
The sparse crowd who were still in attenndence gave him a cheer as he struggled to first and motioned for Woody to send in a runner.
Dave Flint was fast but stupid and was tagged out two plays later trying to steal second. Evansville won it in the twelvth with a two run homer as summer twilight settled like a warm blanket over the field.

Crespi took a last look around but Bill Campbell and both girls had been gone since the late innnings.

"WE'll take um tomorrow boss."
Parsons clapped him on the shoulder..."You need a rubdown?

"No thanks. You might take a look at Junior though, he played 10 rough ones.
Frank tossed his cap on the desk and picked up his keys then thought better of it.

"It's a nice night, I think I'll walk. You can take the car if you want Woody."

It was a very nice night. A warm breeze was blowing in friom the river and there was a smell of fresh cut grass from many of the lawns he passed.
His leg hurt but he'd come to live with that and the exercise was helpfull in the long run.
He was halfway home when a car slowed down and pulled up by the curb. The door opened and Nancy Roberts waved to him...
"Hi there!...You need a ride?"

 

[captainb]

ooc: Thanks to Chele and Ari for inviting me into their story, but in a different time.

2003 - Johnstown, Pa.

“Chow-derrr… Chow-derrr…”

The March morning was gray, the slow movement of the low clouds belying the breeze that coldly swooped over the leftfield wall to blow past the men standing on the field. On the mound, the pitcher worked the ball through his fingers and eyed up the batter. The stands were nearly empty save for those few fanatics who would brave the preseason chill to catch any glimpse of their favorite sport. That sport wasn’t always baseball.

“Chow-derrr… Chow-derrr…”

The man on home plate gripped the bat tightly and bounced the end hard off the plate. He raised it over his shoulder and crouched, but scowled from under his eyebrows into the stands, searching for the source of the taunt. The back of his neck was hot. Three punks sat about halfway up the first base stands, and one waved his hat back at him with a laugh. Sonuvabitch, if I can catch you in the parking lot…

He grimaced as a solid thump sounded to his right. “Christ, Sal, they don’t come any cleaner than that,” said Myers, rising to toss the ball back to the pitcher. “What are ya doing, listening to that jagoff?”

Salvatore Francis Choder snuck a glance to the bullpen. Coach Krenn leaned against the concrete wall, methodically chewing on a wad of Beechnut and staring back at him. Sal scuffed his feet and entered the stance again. The pitcher stared back, then nodded and went into his windup. Sal swirled the bat slightly, eyes fixed on the ball as it began its flight toward him.

“Chow-derrr…”

The pitch was a gimmee, straight over the plate. Sal swung, but he’d lost the ball’s path and the bat missed by several inches. His swing carried him around in a circle as the gray sky turned red, and with a roar he whirled the bat up into the stands toward the heckler. It clattered into the stands near enough to frighten the punks, but they recovered quickly and began to shout at him.

He couldn’t tell what they were saying and wasn’t paying attention to what he was shouting back. He only knew that Krenn’s face was suddenly in front of his and he was being shoved into the bullpen, then through the door into the locker room. Krenn stabbed a beefy finger at him, backing him up into the lockers as tobacco sprayed out of his mouth.

“Choder, what the fuck is wrong with you? You think we got nothing fuckin’ better to do than babysit you every time you get in a fuckin’ fight? What the fuck do you think last year was all about? You think we’re made of fuckin’ money, that we’ll bail your fuckin’ ass out of jail again? Goddammit, you hit some guy again and they’ll throw your fuckin’ ass in fuckin’ jail and you’ll fuckin’ stay there! And what the fuck is wrong with you, throwin’ a fucking bat at him? We got no room on this team for a hotheaded son of a bitch like you, I don’t care how good your fuckin’ arm is!”

Sal’s lips were white, his jaw clenched as he stared away from the coach. He’d heard this before, too many times before. Different words, different voices, from his college coach back to little league. Funny how the message sounded angrier every time. His temper had always gotten him in trouble, although lately he’d been losing it more and more often. He’d never seen Krenn blow up at anyone like this before. Lucky me, he thought sourly.

Coach turned away from him with a snarl and started a heated dialogue with Myers, who had followed them inside. Sal turned away and opened his locker, staring at the jumbled clothing. He’d dreamed of having his own locker on a pro team all the way through college. But grades mattered more than they used to, and his weren’t good enough to avoid suspension. The major scouts passed him by. Luckily, the Johnstown Johnnies saw some potential and picked him up fresh out of school. He’d been pleased with the chance to play fairly near his hometown. The coach liked his throwing arm, and Sal batted a decent .314 that first year. It wasn’t near to his dreams of playing in the majors, but being in an independent league was still respectable. While it lasted.

The door clanked shut, and Myers slid beside him. “Sal, Coach ain’t gonna put up with much more of this,” he said quietly. “The owner’s breathing down his neck too, you know.”

“Yeah,” said Sal. He sat on the bench facing his locker.

Myers eyes drifted up to the tattered card taped inside the locker door. He leaned closer and tapped it with a finger. “Crespi had a good year, huh? Nearly pulled it out for the Cards. Why’d you hang onto this one?”

Myers pulled his fingers back just in time as Sal banged the locker shut. He grimaced and looked up at the catcher. “Sorry.”

“Yeah,” said Myers. They were quiet for a moment. “Listen, I gotta get back out there. Coach wants you to cool off today. You wanna go to G-man after? C’mon,” he said as Sal shrugged. “We’ll have a few brews, some cheese fries, see if I can whip your ass again at darts.”

“T’yeah,” Sal snorted, a wry grin beginning to form. “You’d have to get me pretty drunk for a chance at that.”

Myers laughed and turned to the door. “We’re breaking up at three. Be here then, okay?”

Sal sighed deeply in the empty room. He opened his locker again and pulled out his jacket, stopping to look again at the old baseball card. He hadn’t told anyone on the team that Frank Crespi was his grandfather. He’d been openly proud of the relationship when he was younger, but as his “potential” (as everyone called it) seemed to have a harder and harder time catching fire, he’d stopped bringing it up. The fun of talking about it had faded. The face staring up into the invisible bleachers had always been challenging him, but now Sal thought he could almost make out a frown. He softly closed the locker and headed for the exit, purposefully turning away from the stands so he wouldn’t be seen leaving the stadium. A good beer soaking might help him figure out why he was always so pissed off.

 

[ariosto]

OOC....Step up to the plate Cap. Glad to have you!
I won't be able to post this week so you and Chele carry on....

 

[SexyChele]

2003 – Johnstown, PA

Dana watched with disdain at the young men verbally harassing the batter on the field. Drunk, probably. Bored, undoubtedly. She sat back, putting her feet up on the seats in front of her and nibbled on the peanuts she had brought with her. As the batter missed the pitch and sent the bat flying into the stands, she secretly hoped it would find its target in one of the hecklers. A smile crossed her lips – it would only be as they deserved. But just then the coach was hauling the batter away and out of sight. The next batter approached the plate, awaiting the next pitch.

Dana leaned forward, trying to peer into the dugout, but she couldn’t see any sign of either the coach or the batter.

“He’s a moron, you know. Not worth the time or effort this team puts into him.”

Dana swung around at the sound of the voice. An elder man was sitting above her, just to her left. He looked as though he had spent many hours in the sun, watching many games.

“Who?” Dana asked, though she knew the answer already.

“Sal Choder, who else? He’s a hothead, got a real anger problem. Could be a good ball-player, but he lets things get under his skin. He needs to learn to control that.”

Control. Dana chuckled. That was an element that had been missing from her life as long as she could remember. Her mother hadn’t the foggiest idea of what control even meant. Neither had her grandmother, for that matter. Both pregnant before they reached the ripe old age of 18, both single mothers. Well, at least her grandmother had found some man to be faithful to – or so it appeared. They were both off in the desert somewhere, living in a tepee and doing strange rituals to bring about harmony into the world. Seems no one had told her the whole hippie thing was over.

And Dana’s mother only cared about her next fix or her next fuck – and not necessarily in that order. From the time she could remember, Dana had been pretty much left on her own. That was part of the reason she was so independent, she supposed. It was also one of the reasons she turned to baseball. Well, sort of. She had been teased endlessly by the boys in the different neighborhoods they had lived in, and Dana learned early how to take care of herself. But that changed with puberty. Dana stayed slight, small, and almost fairy-like. The boys in the neighborhood started to grow much bigger and it was harder to take them down. Almost in self-defense Dana learned the game of baseball. Hell, if she couldn’t fight ‘em, she might as well play with ‘em.

As it turned out, Dana discovered she was pretty good at hitting and even better at fielding. As the boys began to accept her ability, she found herself less and less drawn to the womanly virtues she was supposed to embrace. Dana only stood 5’4” and 110 pounds soaking wet. But she was quick and agile, and she could deceptively swing a bat that most wouldn’t think she should be able to handle. Her blond hair was cut short, just shy of her shoulders, and her brown eyes were deep.

Dana shrugged her shoulders at the old man, and crossed her arms in front of her. As she turned back towards the field, she noticed the coach had come back out into the dugout. But no Choder. What happened? For some reason he fascinated her. Maybe it was the potential she saw in him – who knew?

She grabbed her sweater and got up, tugging on the tight, hip-hugging jeans that molded themselves to her body. The tiny tank top clung to her breasts, that though smallish, still attracted attention. She rushed down the steps towards the exit, clutching at the Pirates hat that covered most of her hair. When she reached the exit, she glanced around, and at first didn’t notice him. Then she saw him, moving along the street, his shoulders slightly hunched. Why she felt the need to talk to him, she couldn’t say. But she had to at least meet him. She called out to him, but either he ignored her or was too far away. She broke into a sprint and quickly caught up with him.

“Mr. Choder,” she breathed heavily. “Mr. Choder, hey, wait up!”

She was breathing deeply when she caught up with him, the look on his face black. “Hey, I just wanted to say hi, you know? Yeah, and to let you know I wished you would have decked those guys up there who were heckling you. No one deserves that. Oh, I’m Dana, Dana Crespi. I’m glad I got to meet you.”

 

[captainb]

The wind whipped coldly down Johns Street as Sal left Point Stadium. He pulled up his collar and dug his hands into his pockets. He’d gotten used to the habit of taking the bus to and from his apartment. Parking was usually tough downtown, and he had no aversion to walking. It let his mind drift, kind of like meditation, and he’d been known to walk for miles without realizing it, sometimes all the way back home. Sometimes it helped crystallize his thoughts, other times it was just like vegging out. Today he was brooding.

During the off season, Sal drove a delivery truck for an office supply store. Hardly worth the cost of a business degree, but he’d never viewed college classes as anything more than a tool to let him play baseball. He could have gone into construction; at an even six feet and 205 pounds, he had the build and stamina for it. But he couldn’t work the baseball schedule around what jobs were available. At times like this, though, he wondered if he should just chuck it all and settle for a life that, while not easier, might be less stressful.

He didn’t hear her at first. No one had called him Mr. Choder since he was at the employment office last year.

“Mr. Choder, hey, wait up!”

He stopped and turned, watching curiously as the girl ran up to him and breathlessly started talking. “Hey, I just wanted to say hi, you know? Yeah, and to let you know I wished you would have decked those guys up there who were heckling you. No one deserves that. Oh, I’m Dana, Dana Crespi. I’m glad I got to meet you.” She held out her hand.

He blinked and nodded. The rapid-fire speech had caught him off guard. “Hi,” he said, automatically taking her hand. As they touched, he registered what she had said.

His head cocked quizzically. “Crespi?” he asked. She nodded and smiled, and he realized he was still holding her hand. Letting go, he said with an embarrassed shrug, “Yeah, well, I shouldn’t let’em get to me. Um, I’m Sal… Choder, but I guess you knew that already.”

"Yeah," she said with a laugh. She was small and cute, brown eyes bright under the brim of her cap. He couldn’t help taking a quick glance at her outfit. She was slim under the sweater, and he liked that.

"I'm heading up to the bus stop," he said with a nod up the street. "You going that way?"

Dana nodded and dug her hands into her jeans, falling in beside him as they resumed walking.

 

[SexyChele]

Tyler, Indiana - 1946

The game had proved more interesting than Nancy would at first believed. Bill had made some comment about going to get refreshments, and took Shirley with him. After a half hour, Nancy gave up the idea of refreshments and wondered if Bill had meant another sort of "refreshment".

Nancy allowed herself to get swept up into the game, fighting back the memories of Michael as best she could, and was surprised to see that the Tornadoes had some real talent. She couldn't help but notice that Frank favored one leg over the other and it certainly affected his game, but not his spirit. He seemed to try harder, a grimace crossing his face more often than not.

Finally, Bill and Shirley returned to the stands, and Nancy concealed her smile. Shirley's hair was definitely mussed as if there had been a stiff wind, and bits of dirt and dead grass clung to Bill's shirt. Yes, defenitely a "refreshment" of a different kind!

"C'mon, kid, let's go. Shirley and I thought we would get ourselves to a real restaurant and not the cheap food they serve here."

"But, Bill, it's a pretty good game," Nancy replied. "Perhaps I should stay and you two run along?"

Bill grabbed her arm tugged. "The Tornadoes are also playin' tomorrow, too. This game looks tight, but I feel the home team's gonna lose this one." Bill grinned at her. "Besides, I know where Frank Crespi hangs out after the game - isn't that your true interest?"

Nancy stood and smoothed down her dress, giving Bill a scowl.

"Certainly not! What do I care for some ball player? I'm just interested in the game, that's all."

"Aw, honey, it's okay. Lots of women in this town would love to spend an evening with the Frank," Shirley giggled. "He don't pay too many women no mind, though. Strange. OH!"

Shirley jumped as Bill quickly grabbed her and tickled her. Nancy turned and began walking down the stands and headed for the exit, giving the diamond one last glance. As they were approaching the car, Nancy decided she just couldn't take Bill and his paramour one more minute.

"Bill, look, it's going to be a beautiful night. I think perhaps I'd like to walk, if you don't mind?"

"Hell, why walk? Listen, I'll drive over to the diner, then you can take the car, how's that? Go for a drive. Not like you can get lost in the middle of these farmlands!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After dropping Bill and Shirley at the diner, Nance swung the car around and headed down the main street of town. The windows were rolled down and the wind coming through them felt good through her hair. The night was pleasant, warm, inviting, and Nancy looked forward to long drive.

Suddenly, a long figure appeared walking down the sidewalk. Well, limping was more like it. As she passed him, Nancy instantly recognized it as Frank Crespi. She swung quickly over to the curb, and reached across opening the door.

"Hi there....need a ride?"

His eyes looked startled at first before recognition set in. He stopped as contemplating what to do.

"I thought you just arrived in town last night. Where'd you get the car?"

"Bill loaned it to me. Come on - hop in! I promise I won't bite or take advantage of you!"

Slowly, Frank eased himself into the car and settled onto the seat. As he swung the door closed, Nancy pulled away from the curb.

"Where you heading on a night like tonight?" Frank asked.

"Oh, nowhere in particular. I just thought it was a beautiful night and took up Bill's suggestion to take a drive. Care to join me, or do you wish me to chauffer you home?" She gigled slightly at her imitation of a proper British chauffer, though Frank didn't join in and she stopped abruptly.

"Well, I was thinking about this little roadside place, not too far out of town. Since you are out for a drive, you could drop me there."

"Okay, that sounds good. I do with a beer myself, if you don't mind the company."

"I don't mind. No, not at all, if you don't mind the place."

"I'm sure I've seen rougher, believe me!"

And with that, Nancy turned off onto the highway following Frank's directions.

 

[SexyChele]

Johnstown, PA - 2003

When Dana was finally able to look up at him, she was surprised to see he looked very close to her own age. Somehow she thought he would be older. She started to walk with him towards the bus stop shelter, though she hadn't planned on taking a bus.

"It really doesn't matter where I go - as long as it isn't home at the moment. Or what you could say passes for a home." She felt his eyes on her, and she was fearful she had let too much slip. She normally didn't discuss her life with her mother, what little of it there was to discuss.

Dana looked up at Sal and smiled. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I just moved here and found the Johnnies. Guess you could say I'm more used to the, um, well, what I mean to say is -" Her voice trailed off, not quite sure of how to proceed, not wanting to insult.

"Is the phrase you looking for 'big leagues'?"

"I'm sorry, Mr., uh, Sal. Hey, I think the Johnnies are doing a great job, really I do. And the write up in the local paper this morning had me intrigued, you know?"

Dana recalled reading the paper as she had sipped her coffee, listening to her mother throwing up in the bathroom, then making herself an Alka Seltzer cocktail before stumbling into the kitchen. The write up had praised the Johnnies, but had singled Sal Choder out as one who had a lot of talent - if only he could find the control needed to discipline himself for the game.

Sal stopped in his tracks to glare at her. Dana was oblivious and had had gone about 5 feet before stopping and realizing she had lost him. Turning around, she swallowed and walked back.

"I know what you must be thinking. Some kid wanting to find out if your temper is all that. Right? Well, I'm not. I liked your stats and background. Thought maybe I could meet you and talk about baseball. You know, I'm not a bad hitter and fielder myself."

She watched as his eyes took in her figure, and she blushed slightly.

"Yeah, I know I'm small, but I can still handle a bat and catch a ball. Maybe I can't hit a ball out of the ballpark, but sometimes it's where you hit the ball, not how hard you hit it, right?"

He started walking not saying a word, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

"Look, if I insulted you or something, I'm sorry. Okay? And if you don't want to talk to me, that's cool. Just say so. Believe me, I can take it."

She kept walking with him in silence for a few more steps before she got an idea.

"Hey, why not let me buy you a cup of coffee, k? Sort of a peace offering, let's call it. C'mon, what do you say?"

She looked up at him hopefully, not wanting to lose this opportunity.

 

[ariosto]

Donnely's was a place with a real bad reputation before the war but with the young men away it had become for a few years fairly respectable. Now though the GI's were back home and it had regained it's former notariety.

"Good god, Frank...what a place! Do you come here often?"
She had just witnessed the expulsion of one drunk bodily and an argument at the bar was threatening to erupt into a brawl at any minute.
He sipped his beer and smiled.
"It makes things on the field seem restful in comparison, calms me down."

She looked at him unbelieving.
"Calms you down?"

He didn't tell her the real reason. Donnely's daughter Pat was so far the only woman he'd been to bed with since he got to Tyler. She wasn't working tonight.

Nancy knew she couldn't take much more of this and he read it on her face.
"Come on let's take a ride. It is pretty awful in here isn't it?"
Frank paid for their drinks and they walked out into the dark parking lot.
Bill's car was parked at the far end and by the time they got there, they'd been joined by three other men, all big men and all shitfaced drunk.

"Hey gimp, whose the cooze. Bet she'd like a real man."
One of them had slipped between them and the car.

"Yeah, or two maybe."
Nancy felt a heavy arm slip around her waist and froze.

"Or three?"
The last voice belonged to a pock faced kid about
eight feet tall holding a very sharp looking stiletto.
"Why don't we all take a ride somewhere nice and quiet."

Jesus Christ...the only juvenile delinquents in Tyler Indiana and we find them.
Frank thought as he cocked his right arm to throw a punch.
It never came.
Number two coldcocked him with rabbit chop behind the ear and he ended up with a mouth full of gravel sprawled on the ground.

"Shit we don't need him do we...I think the broad can take us everywhere we wanna go..."
He heard them though a thick and deadening haze. He knew he had to act...had to get up...he tried but his leg wasn't moving at all.
Oh fuck...fuck...fuck...fuck....

 

[captainb]

Johnstown, '03

At first, he’d thought she was a reporter from a student newspaper. He’d seen them around the field at times, wannabe sports writers with dreams of a scoop. He was sensitive to it, what with that article pointing him out by name. Discipline, my ass…

But she was a fan of sorts, of him apparently. That was something he wasn’t used to. She bounced along beside him, apparently determined not to give him the luxury of sulking.

“Hey, why not let me buy you a cup of coffee, ‘k? Sort of a peace offering, let's call it. C'mon, what do you say?”

He stopped and turned to her again. It was getting harder to stay in a bad mood while looking at her face. She really was cute, and her expression was earnest. A grin broke through one side of his mouth.

“Okay, Dana, you’ve got a deal,” he said. “There’s a coffee shop up at the corner, will that do?”

Her smile was incandescent, and he got that rubbery feeling inside that he always got when a pretty girl paid attention to him. “But listen, you don’t owe me anything,” he said as they began walking. “I don’t pay attention what they write about me. I just like playing the game.”

“Me too,” said Dana. “I’ve only been on some neighborhood teams, but I think I do pretty well.”

“Yeah? Maybe I’ll take you out for some batting practice later.” Yow, easy boy! he thought, and changed the subject. “Where did you live before you came here?”

The walk to the deli went fast, and Dana was still talking as they waited in line. He bought her lunch (letting her give him a dollar for the coffee), and they sat in a booth by the window with a clear view of the Inclined Plane. He found he enjoyed watching her. There was something pleasurable about looking at a good-looking woman. Dana was animated, her eyes wide and direct. He found himself noticing the way her hair bounced, kind of an “action ’do” that re-settled nicely no matter which way her head bobbed. She had a faint splash of freckles across her nose, giving her a tomboyishness that somehow managed to accent her femininity. But something was still on his mind.

“You said your last name is Crespi?” he asked offhandedly as she took a bite of her sandwich. She nodded and chewed faster, trying to answer. “Not a real common name around here.” He smiled at the waitress as she refilled his cup.

 

[SexyChele]

Tyler, Indiana – 1946

Nancy gasped as one of the three drunks punched Frank in face. As he fell to the asphalt, she screamed and squirmed, trying to break loose of the hold of the third drunk.

“Let me go, you stupid oaf!” Nancy yelled at the man who held her.

A cold laugh was her response, as she felt the arm stiffen around her waist.

“Frank! FRANK! Oh my God – some one – HELP!”

“Nobody gives a shit around here, don’t you get that? Looks like the two of you stumbled into the wrong neighborhood.”

Nancy could feel herself being dragged away, and she yelled all the harder. She felt a hand cover her mouth, but she bit into the foul tasting flesh until she heard a yelp and the hand was gone.

Suddenly, Nancy felt herself bathed in lights and looked up into a pair of bright headlights. The three drunks staggered at the sudden light and nearly fell.

“Let the lady go, boys,” came a voice from beyond the headlights.

The three stood and stared at each other, Nancy squinted at the lights, wondering at who was behind them.

“I said, let her go. Looks like I’m going to have to run you all in on drunk and disorderly charges anyway. I don’t think you want false imprisonment to go with the charges, do you?”

A figure stepped out from behind the headlights, and Nancy could barely make out the figure of a man in uniform. Nancy felt the arm about her waist loosen then drop completely. She quickly stepped aside and out of reach.

“Aw, Sheriff Cooper, we didn’t mean no harm,” one of the drunks responded as the Sheriff came forward.

“I know, boys. You never mean harm, but you always do harm, don’t you?”

“Those are accidents, and they ain’t our fault!”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. In the back, all three of you.”

Nancy stared as the three climbed into the back of the patrol car before she remembered Frank. Turning, she ran towards him, dropping to her knees and supporting his head with her arm.

“Frank! Frank, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Sheriff Cooper ambled over and took a look at Frank with his flashlight.

“You okay, Miss? Didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“No, Sheriff, I’m fine.”

“Crespi? You okay? You don’t look so good. Maybe I should call for an ambulance?”

 

[SexyChele]

Johnstown, PA – 2003

Dana was happy she hadn’t pissed off Sal and that he had agreed to talk with her. As they shared a booth and a couple of sandwiches, she couldn’t deny there was an attraction to him. Dana had always found she developed infatuations with ball players, but this had a different feel to it. It wasn’t the same star-struck awe that she had felt before. As he spoke, she watched his lips, imagining what they would feel like against her own. She watched his hand as he held his coffee cup, and imagined the strength and confidence in his grip. She closed her eyes for a minute. Had to get herself together

The way she had babbled on while they waited in line, Dana was amazed he was still willing to sit in the same booth with her. Dana did have a tendency to talk overly much, a fact she considered to be a handicapped but which seemed to draw people towards her. But it had felt good to tell some one her disappointment in having to leave Pittsburgh so soon after her graduation. She had earned a scholarship to a local community college and had big plans on going there, when her mother abruptly said they would be moving. Dana had thought to go back to Pittsburgh when she turned 18, but that was a couple of months ago and she was still here.

When she opened her eyes again, she picked up her sandwich and gave him a smile before she took a bite. She swallowed and took a drink of her soda, and looked up at him.

“Yeah, I guess Crespi is an unusual name, if I think about it. It was my grandfather’s name. Frank Crespi, Jr. My mother had no idea who my father was, so batabing, bataboom, I ended up with grandad’s name. Not that I ever had the pleasure of meeting him. He bailed soon after my mother was born, from what I understand. My grandmother always says he was the black sheep of his family, but what family that was no one seems to know or care.”

Dana picked up a french fry and popped it into her mouth, grinning at her newest audience. For some reason she felt the urge to make a funny face to make him laugh, but thought he might not understand such a childish prank.

“So, that’s my life story. What’s yours? And did you really mean what you said about the batting practice? That would be so cool! I’m sure I could give you a run for your money, even if I do say so myself. Um, I’m not talking too much or anything, am I? If I am, just tell me, k? I have that habit sometimes. Well, okay, most times. All the times?”

Dana giggled slightly as she brought another long french fry to her lips. She tilted her head back and parted her lips, letting the length of fried potato ease past her lips to the back of her throat. She turned back to Sal, her eyes laughing and teasing at the same time.

 

[ariosto]

"I'm okay."
They helped Frank to his feet and he leaned against the fender of the car. The fiery ache in his leg was slowly calming down.
"You all right Nancy?
I never should have let you come here with me."

Cooper looked at him and frowned.
"Damn stupid thing to do Crespi. You know this place is wild as hell."

"Oh I'm fine. Let's just get out of here allright."
Nancy smoothed down her dress and took Frank's arm.
"Let's go okay?"

"Hey miss, I need your name. You are gonna file charges against these hooligans aren't ya?"
Cooper was standing by the police car with a clipboard in his hand.

"Nancy Roberts sheriff. I'm staying at the Graystone boarding house till I find a place.
Can I do the paperwork in the morning...please?"


"Yeah, I can hold them till then...You ain't from around here are ya?"

She managed a smile,
"No I'm from the quiet, peaceful, unexciting city of San Francisco. I had to come to Indiana to be assaulted."

Frank's leg had settled down to a dull throbbingand he managed a small laugh,
"Tyler is definately a center of vice and violence Miss Roberts. You better have Campbell keep a better look out on the guys you associate with.

"Bill Campbell is a friend. He doesn't chaparone me."
She opened the door to the car and slid inside.
"Now, let's go home."

Frank leaned in the window a twinkle of ausement in his eyes,
"Who's home?
Mine or yours...."

 

[captainb]

Johnstown, '03

It was my grandfather’s name. Frank Crespi, Jr.

Sal cocked his head at her offhand remark, like a dog hearing an odd noise. Dana continued talking. Part of his mind registered what she was saying and filed it away, but his awareness had frozen on those few words. His uncle was named Frank, his mother's brother who was named after their father. He’d never met his uncle; Frank Junior had dropped out of sight in the late ’60s, long before Sal had been born. Now this girl said she had a grandfather named Frank Crespi Jr? How many Frank Crespi’s are there in the U.S., he wondered. He knew of at least two...

She tilted her head back and slid the long french fry far past her tongue, finishing off with a devilish grin. A third part of his mind switched on: Man, she's hot!

He blinked. Dana raised an eyebrow, looking at him expectantly.

“Um, batting practice. Yeah, sure, that would be cool,” he said, trying to refocus. “I’ll bet you’re full of surprises.”

Dana shrugged, but her eyes sparkled as she sipped again from her soda.

“So, your grandfather is pretty much an unknown, huh?” he asked casually.

“Yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He hooked up with my grandmother in the ‘summer of love,’ whatever they called the late sixties. Everyone was hopping into bed with anyone then, like no one heard of STDs or anything. Then he took off. I don’t think she ever heard from him again.”

“Huh,” Sal said, and took a swig from his Coke. “Did you know there was a big league player named Frank Crespi back in the forties? He played for the Yankees…”

 

[SexyChele]

Indiana -1946

Nancy gave Frank a sidelong glance, and couldn't help seeing the twinkle in his eye. She smiled, then gave a short laugh.

"Get in, Frank. I'll tell you what we can do. If there is a liquor store open in town, we can pick up something to drink and go back to my place. I don't have much in the way of food or drink, but the radio works." She flashed him a smile and patted the sea next to her.

Frank slid in, and Nancy couldn't help but notice the way he favored his leg. She grimaced slightly, but tried to hide it from him. She started the car, and headed back towards town following Frank's directions. She pulled alongside a curb, and Frank eased out and went inside. A few moments later, he returned with a large bag and a big grin.

As he sat down in the car, he smiled at her. "I thought I might as well pick up a few snacks for us as well. Hope you don't mind."

"No, sounds like a great idea!"

As Nancy drove the few remaining blocks to her apartment, she suddenly realized what she was doing. She had not been alone with a man since Michael. Indeed, she had not, well, been intimate with any other man. Michael had been her first, her only. Now she had invited a man she just met to her home. What could he really be expecting from her? How much would she be willing to give up? Her mind was distracted until she heard Frank cry out.

"Nancy! Isn't that the driveway right here?"

Nancy looked up and slammed on the brakes, just cutting into the driveway. She stopped and closed her eyes, pulling herself together.

"What's up? Someting wrong?"

"Um, silly I know," Nancy smiled. "But I'm just a little nervous. You see, my husband was, well, that is to say - "

She looked over at Frank in light from the dashboard, and knew her cheeks were scarlet.

"I've never been alone with another man before. I'm just a bit nervous, I guess."

There was an awkward pause, in which Nancy wished she hadn't said anything at all. Then she grabbed her purse, and opened the door.

"Well, would you like to see my new home, Mr. Crespi?" She asked with a smile and a bit of a tease in her eyes.

 

[SexyChele]

Johnstown - 2003

“Did you know there was a big league player named Frank Crespi back in the forties? He played for the Yankees…”

Dana put her soda down on the table and looked up into Sal's eyes.

"No kidding? Wow, really?" A small frown crossed her brow. "And you are thinking they are related?"

"Well, it's a possibility. Not a very common name, you know."

Dana picked up her soda again and took a sip. Could it be? Could this be where her love for baseball came from?

"Well, from what I've heard my grandmother say, my grandfather was not exactly an upstanding citizen. Still, I guess that wouldn't matter, would it? You know, I wonder if they were related. Though I don't know how I could find out now. Like I said, Frank Jr is, well he could be dead by now for anyone knows."

She picked up her sandwich and nibbled a bite, before sitting back in the booth sideways, letting her feet dangle over the edge.

"Still, it might prove interesting to find out - if there is a way. Maybe that's why I can hit like I do. You think there could be, like, some sort of genetic link, if it's true?"

 

[ariosto]

"It isn't much, but I'm grateful to Bill for finding it on such short notice. There isn't a lot of housing available right now."

Frank nodded, there wasn't a damn thing available and compared to his own thirty dollar a month trailer this place was the Ritz. But it helped to be a good friend of Campbell, especially an attractive lady friend, instead of an employee.

Sounds of ice dropping into glasses in the kitchen. The smell of flowers in the window, a hint of perfume...woman's smells.
It had been a while.

"How did you meet him?"
Frank sat down and stretched out his aching leg.

She stuck her head around the doorframe and smiled.
"Who?"

He decided to skip it.
"You look pretty calm for a gal who almost got raped...happen often in California?"

The sounds in the kitchen stopped suddenly.
He'd made a mistake. Maybe she had been...God what a fucking idiot!

"Hey...'
He struggled to his feet ,
"I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that...stupid.
I was a lot of help back there wasn't I."

Nancy appeared carrying two tall drinks. She was still smiling but it seemed forced...his imagination?

"Here you go Frank. Hope it suits."
She sat down on the divan and he sat next to her, the drink was a welcome relief.

"It suits just fine California.
A pause...
"You doing okay?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine."
She sipped hers and put it down on the coffee table. His was half gone already.

"It was a pretty good game today..."he began.

"How did you hurt your leg? I should be asking if your okay."
She looked at him with a genuine look of concern on her face.

She's beautiful, he thought...really, really beautiful.

 

[captainb]

Johnstown, '03

A genetic link. Good grief, Sal thought. And what if there was? What would that make us? Not cousins, well, kind of cousins I guess, but in a weird way… Sal had grown up with limited dealings with his extended family, and the intricacies of second and removed cousins had always been little more than a passing mystery to him. As he and Dana prepared to leave the deli, Sal struggled over whether he should bring up their possible relation. Dana was so easy to talk to, and they had similar interests. She wasn’t a fan of his; she just loved baseball. He appreciated that. As much as his ego would like to be stroked by a real fan, he was relieved that he didn’t have to measure up to someone else’s fantasy.

He didn’t know what the right answer was, so for the time being he chose to keep the Crespi connection to himself. Maybe he could find an answer some other way. Some way that wouldn’t mess up whatever might have a chance of developing here, or cause it to develop into something that meant less… The shock of cold air woke him from his thoughts as they stepped outside. He looked around to see Dana regarding him with a half-smile, and realized he’d been silent the past few minutes.

He ran a hand through his hair and gave her a ragged grin. “Sorry, guess I got a bit distracted,” he said and took a deep, cleansing breath. His mind cleared, and he looked at her again. She had pulled her baseball cap low over her forehead to keep it in place against the wind whipping down the street. She was certainly nice to look at, and he suddenly realized that he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her yet. She looked a bit unsure, her hands jammed in her pockets again as she glanced back down the street.

“Hey, listen,” he began. “Um, Dana, I don’t know what you’ve got in mind this afternoon, but I’d like to see how you hit. The Johnnies have the field until three. I thought maybe we could head over then and get some time in on our own, hit a few balls around.”

Her eyes lit up. “That would be… SO… cool!” she said. “It’s such a neat old stadium, I’d love to see the view from the infield.”

He checked his watch. “We’ve got a few hours still. Have you had a chance to check out the Incline yet?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at the steep hill across the highway. The two cable cars were moving up and down on opposite sides of the track, preparing to pass each other at the midpoint. “It’s a nice view from up there, you can see the whole Conemaugh Valley. The big flood came in right through this area, you know.”

“Really?” said Dana, looking over her shoulder as if expecting to see a twenty-five foot wall of water rushing toward them. “It’s hard to imagine that.”

“Well, luckily we don’t need to worry about that anymore,” he said with a laugh. A sudden burst of chivalry swept over him and he shrugged off his team jacket. “Here, put this on. You need to dress warmer.”

She protested, but he ignored that and placed the jacket over her shoulders. She worked her arms into it with a wry grin, and he found himself smiling too. She seemed self-assured and capable of taking care of herself, but he liked being able to help her. “There, fits you like a glove,” he said. She rolled her eyes, as the jacket was obviously too big for her, but the long sleeves worked well as impromptu gloves. They started walking again up Johns Street toward the pedestrian bridge.

 

[SexyChele]

Tyler, Indiana - 1946

It had been a long time since Nancy had been "rescued". In fact, she could remember it clearly. It was early December, 1941. There had been sailors all over San Francisco. Most were young, away from home for the first time. Michael had left her at a table in a nightclub while he went to make a phone call. Two half drunken sailors had determined that Nancy was just what they were looking for. She remembered how Michael had returned, a rage like that of a bull, and knocked both sailors into the middle of the dance floor.

To have a man stand up for her honor, was something Nancy hadn't experienced in quite some time. It brought back memories of Michael, but other feelings began to surface as well. She felt a gratitude and kindness to this man, but was afraid to express it. She was afraid the tears would never stop.

Instead she asked about his leg. Then thought better of it. He did his best to try to conceal the fact, and Nancy probably should not have mentioned it. She was about to retract her statement, when Frank began to speak.

As he talked of being in the European theater of war, a place relatively unfamiliar to Nancy, she could envision the horrors he must have seen, the pain he had to endure. Michael's face flashed before her. Had he seen something similiar? Had he suffered as Frank had?

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she placed her drink on the table. Trying to smile at Frank, Nancy reached for a tissue, dabbing at her eyes.

"I'm sorry. You must think I'm terribly foolish!" she apologized. "It's difficult to hear of the suffering that so many went through during the war. And so difficult to remember the pain of being at home as well."

She caught a look in his eyes, and held back, dabbing at her eyes, cursing the fact that she was about to lose control.

 

[SexyChele]

Johnstown, PA - 2003

She had been fearful that she had said something that offended him. As they left the deli, he seemed deep within himself, and Dana was unsure of how to speak to him. For once in a rare time, Dana was silent.

Out on the street, she hesitated. Things had been going nicely, but she didn't want to impose - perhaps he had something else to do.

As he mentioned batting some balls around, her eyes grew wide. Inside a real stadium! With some one who really knew what he was doing! It was more than Dana could have realized!

At the talk of the Incline, Dana was curious. Her and her mother had only moved here a few weeks ago and Dana had not had much time to explore. It looked lovely, and she was certainly game for trying the cable cars.

As a chill wind blew through the street, Dana felt Sal wrap his jacket around her. At first she protested - how would he keep warm? But she had to admit that she was grateful for the warmth!

As they walked on, Dana looked about her and on both sides of the street. She was used to Pittsburgh, used to living in big cities. She felt a whole different element here - one that she liked.

"This place is really cool, you know? When we were going to move here I wasn't really happy. All my friends live in Pittsburgh and I knew I would just hate it here." She turned and smiled up at him. "But you know what? Things are beginning to look a lot better!"

The bridge was not much farther up ahead, and Dana quickly set her mind in motion and stopped. Sal continued on for a step or two, then turned, looking at her quizically.

"I bet I can race ya the rest of the way," Dana said with a grin.

"Now, Dana, really -"

"Aw, c'mon. 'Fraid of being beat by a girl, Sal?" Her bright smiled belied the teasing tone of her voice. She watched as he took stock of her and then the distance to the bridge. He turned back and smiled.

"Okay. You think you can take me? Let's do it!"

Before he could get settled into position, Dana yelled out "GO!" and began her sprint to the bridge. She headed towards the bridge, but was surprised to find herself suddenly wanting to be caught.