Easy Out

During recess, at softball practice today, Valerie Thomas said to me, 'Paige Ricco, if you don't learn how to hit, I'm kicking you off the team.'

'You just try it and see how many games you win,' I smirked. The smirk was a fake because I started to get those wrinkles in my stomach.

Valerie is the most perfect person in our whole sixth grade. Not only is she the captain of our team, but she has tons of brains and clothes. She could model for Bloomingdales Catalog, and she has hated my guts since kindergarten.

She's right, of course. I can't hit. When it's my turn at bat, everyone moves up about a mile and yells, 'Easy out, easy out!' The only thing I can do better than anyone else is pitch.

'Nobody can get kicked off,' Gerry said. 'It's a school rule. Anyway, just who would you get to replace Paige? She's the best pitcher in the league.'

Gerry is my best friend. Everybody calls her Red Rhino because of her red hair and size. She's the biggest person in the sixth grade and our powerhouse hitter.

Valerie marched over and faced Molly. 'Well,' she sweetened her voice. 'Molly, you and I could take turns. You're almost as good as me.'

'Oh, no, no way; not me.' Molly shook her head. 'I clutch up.'

'I think Valerie should do it,' said Ava who hangs around Valerie like a leech. 'Val's a good pitcher AND a good hitter. We lost three games because Paige struck out every time.'

'So what?' Gerry said. 'We won eight games because Paige struck out so many girls on the other team.'

'That's not the reason,' Ava said, moving closer to Valerie. 'We win because of our hitting.'

'That's stupid,' Gerry said, stepping in front of me like a bodyguard. 'Any dope knows you need both good hitters AND good pitchers.'

'Well, we're never going to hold on to first place if spaghetti arms here keeps striking out,' Valerie said.

'I'm going to get a designated hitter for you.' She stared straight at me.

'We can't have designated hitters. Everybody on the team gets a turn at bat. It's a school rule,' said Molly.

Valerie stuck her hands on her hips. 'We'll just see about that.'

By the time the bell rang, we had divided into sides. Half the team stood behind Gerry and me; the other half behind Valerie and Ava.

Only Denise and the subs stayed neutral. Denise is always in the middle; she even plays second base.

We were still arguing as we filed into our seats. I sit in the last seat in the second row. Gerry sits next to me in the first row. Only the tallest kids get the last seats. I'm the tallest, skinniest in the class. Valerie says I look like one of those stick people with the duck feet that little kids draw.

The back seats are great for playing movie star initials and passing notes.

'Okay, okay. I'm only going to say it once this morning.' Mr. Archer said, then shouted. 'SETTLE DOWN.' He dropped the dictionary on his desk. That means we better shut up or we all stay after school and write the capitals of every state in the U.S. Yuk.

Still, I like him. One thing he isn't and that's petty. He doesn't play favorites, and he doesn't take off points for smudges on your paper either. He says, 'As long as it's accurate, and you understand.'

I especially like him because he lets me dot my i's with circles. Last year Ms. Willers marked down all my papers bcause I did that. My answers were right, too, but she refused to give me A's because of those tiny circles. I had wrinkles in my stomach for a whole year.

'Now,' Mr. Archer was saying. 'Let's turn to page thirty four in our history books.' Valerie raised her hand. 'Yes, Valerie?'

'Well, Mr. Archer.' It makes me sick the way her voice turns to syrup when she talks to adults. 'We have a game after school Monday, but we should have a meeting first to discuss the rules.'

Gerry poked me on the arm. I tried to think of something to say to pull Mr. Archer off the question, but my mind was frozen stiff.

'What rules?' Mr. Archer asked.

Before Valerie could speak, Gerry blurted out, 'Mr. Archer, you said if we didn't finish history today, we'd have homework for the weekend.' Everybody groaned at that.

Valerie turned around and glared at us. I gave her one of those blank doll-eyed looks. Gerry stuck her fingers up her nose and crossed her eyes.

'All right then, let's get to it.' Mr. Archer said. He turned to Valerie. 'We'll talk about that later.'

I felt my bones sag with relief. It was just like Mr. Archer to let us use our own judgement with the rules. He coaches both boys and girls teams, but whenever he spends recess with us he fidgets. Most of the time he's craning his neck, checking the boy's team on the other side of the schoolyard.

Mom says, 'That isn't fair.'

I try to explain that I don't care. 'Mr. Archer says we are mature enough to coach ourselves. We're number one in the league, and the boys are almost in the cellar. He says they need him more.'

'Mm-mm.' Mom curls her mouth. 'Getting penalized for being mature. Sounds like a cop-out to me.'

I was dreaming about hiring a pro to give me secret batting lessons when Gerry shoved a note under my book. It said, M.D. Immediately, I wrote next to it Matt Damon, and below, W. R. for Winona Ryder. I checked Mr. Archer's location and handed the note back.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Gerry hesitate. Finally she handed it back to me with a new set of initials: H.F. I started to write Harrison Ford when Mr. Archer's voice shot into my ears. 'Paige, why don't you explain it to us?'

All the blood pooled up in my legs. My hands got sweaty. Automatically, I said, 'I don't know.'

'You don't know the difference between a democracy and a dictatorship?'

Well, I did know, but I couldn't admit it after he had just asked me again because then he'd know I hadn't been listening.

'I don't know,' I repeated, feeling like I had a 'Stupid' sign stuck into my scalp.

Mr. Archer stared at me, then shook his head. 'Okay, who can tell Paige the difference between a democracy and a dictatorship? Yes, Valerie?'

Valerie sits in the first seat in the first row. She stood up and turned around. Her curls bounced on her head like little gold springs. I notice her hair because mine is muddy brown and straight.

As usual she spoke in her syrupy, soprano voice that makes my teeth ache. 'A dictatorship is when one person makes the rules. A democracy is where the majority of people vote like if some of the kids on our softball team wanted to change a rule, they could vote on it. If the majority voted yes, it would change.'

I looked at Gerry. She was staring, open mouthed, at Valerie

'Well,' Mr. Archer nodded slowly. 'Something like that, sure. Can anybody add to that? Yes, Molly.'

Molly has a low, soft voice. She never gets mad, and she's always telling riddles like, 'What's all over the house? The roof,' or 'What's the best way to catch a squirrel? Climb a tree and act like a nut.' Molly is as smart as Valerie. She's just quiet about it.

'My Dad says that in order for the rule to pass you need to have a...,' Molly paused, 'a quorum or something like that.'

'You're right, Molly.' Mr. Archer glanced at the clock just as the bell rang. 'I'll have to explain all that tomorrow.'

After we had shoved our books into our desks, we filed out to our lockers.

In the hallway, Valerie marched up to me. 'You're lucky the Red Rhino fights all your battles,' she said, in her normal b*tchy voice. 'Don't think I didn't catch on to the homework for the weekend crap.'

I shoved my arms into my windbreaker. 'Oh, sure, and don't think I didn't catch on to that stupid example of democracy you gave. And I fight my own battles. I don't ne