Magic Time by W. P. Kinsella

Author:W. P. Kinsella
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780795350986
Publisher: RosettaBooks

4

Barry McMartin

SEVENTEEN

Every Wednesday after the game we Powells — to Grand Mound it seems I am a Powell — stop at the Grand Mound Bowling Alley and Starlite Café for a few lines.

“We have to do what we can for the businesses in Grand Mound,” said Emmett. “That’s why we buy groceries at the Grand Mound Co-op, and why all the local people buy their insurance from me. By the way, Mike, do you know what it took for the young man to invest in long-term bonds? Maturity.” We all groan appropriately while Emmett beams.

“I know you enjoy bowling, Mike,” says Emmett.

“How would you know that?”

“Oh, I guess your agent must have mentioned it.”

“I’ve never met my agent. We’ve never discussed anything but baseball and money.”

I do like bowling. Dad dragged us to the lanes as soon as we were grown enough to bowl with both hands. I am about to try to pin Emmett down, find out where he is getting his information, when Tracy Ellen interrupts.

“Maybe you could help me,” says Tracy Ellen. She is wearing a rose-colored blouse with a matching ribbon in her hair. “I seem to turn my wrist when I let go of the ball.”

I want to say, ‘Why don’t you get a lesson from Shag Wilson? He gets to teach you about everything else.” But that would be churlish and reflect more on my state of mind than on Shag Wilson’s inappropriateness as a boyfriend for Tracy Ellen. I am jealous.

“I’d be happy to do what I can,” I say. At least it’s a chance to be close to Tracy Ellen. I show her how to keep her wrist straight. I line her up on the lanes, adjust her hips before each shot, straighten or slacken her posture. I want to turn her around to face me and kiss her ever so gently. Tracy Ellen seems oblivious to anything but bowling instruction, though Emmett is beaming, and makes a couple of, for him, mildly suggestive comments about the way I am handling his daughter. Tracy Ellen is a quick learner, and her score of 152 is, I’m told, her best ever.

Many of the bowlers had been at the baseball game, and I got ribbed good-naturedly about a slide I took to break up a double play in the eighth inning. I started my slide too soon, came up ten feet short of the bag, and was left there in a cloud of dust as the Green team completed the play and trotted off the field.

This is the night I get my first good look at Shag Wilson. Just as we’re finishing up, he arrives to pick up Tracy Ellen. Even over the thunder of the bowling balls and pins I can hear the rumble of Shag’s truck as he parks it in front of the glass doors to the bowling alley. He is short. He swaggers. He looks like something from a traveling company of West Side Story. He wears a tight white T-shirt, jeans, and motorcycle boots.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.