The Art of Fielding_ A Novel - Chad Harbach [138]
“We were hoping you guys had seen him,” Schwartz said. “Where’s Pella?”
“Pella,” said Sophie, “is beautiful.”
“I agree. Buddha, would you order Sophie a cup of coffee? I need to confer with Adam for a moment.”
“Aye aye, Captain.” Owen wrapped a slender arm around Sophie’s shoulders and led her away, gesticulating with his other hand as he embarked on some complicated story. Sophie nodded hypnotically, her brow furrowed to show that, no matter how drunk, she was smart enough to keep up with whatever Owen was saying. Good old Buddha.
Schwartz looked at Starblind, to whose cheeks the color had mostly returned, though the arctic Starblind smile was nowhere to be found. “Where’s Pella?”
Starblind shrugged sullenly. “I bumped into them on the street. Pella said she wasn’t feeling well.”
“She left you in charge of Sophie?” Schwartz could get only so pissed at Starblind; Starblind was Starblind the way a dog was a dog and a shark was a shark. You didn’t expect moral distinctions from a shark. But Pella—what could she have been thinking, handing Henry’s sister over to a shark? Why, why, why? How irresponsible could she be? He trusted her, wanted to trust her, wanted to hold her to the same standard he held himself. And then she pulled something like this. “Team curfew is midnight,” he said.
“I could say the same to you.”
Schwartz stared him down in a way that emphasized his height advantage. “I don’t recommend it.”
“I wasn’t drinking,” Starblind said. “If that’s what you’re thinking. Just showing Sophie around.”
“She’s Henry’s sister.”
“So what? You never hooked up with anybody’s sister?”
“She’s seventeen.”
Starblind shrugged. “She told me eighteen. Anyway, Skrim owes me one. Little bastard cost me a win today.”
Schwartz picked up Starblind the way you pick a baby out of a bathtub, under the armpits, holding it at arm’s length so it won’t drip on your shirt, though Schwartz’s shirt was already wet with tossed tequila. Starblind’s feet kicked and flailed. Schwartz jacked him up against the side of the Buck Hunter machine. The machine rocked and shuddered. The two beefy townies turned to register their displeasure but stopped when they saw the warning ire in Schwartz’s eyes.
Schwartz fired his left forearm into Starblind’s collarbone to pin him to the machine. Starblind’s head snapped back and cracked against the plastic. The pain made Starblind angry, and being angry made him smile. One thing about Starblind was he wouldn’t back down. “Fuck’s wrong with you?” he said. “You’ve been getting sucked off by Henry for years. I just wanted a little Skrimshander love.”
Schwartz slid his forearm up from Starblind’s chest into his Adam’s apple. Starblind, coughing, twisted his head to the side to try to breathe. He brought up a knee into Schwartz’s balls—a glancing blow but a blow nonetheless. Schwartz crumpled, straightened, drove the palm of his hand into Starblind’s forehead, cracking his head on the plastic again. Starblind’s eyes rolled. He squirmed and twisted, freed one hand well enough to take a few wild swings.
Even in the haze of his rage Schwartz could tell that awareness of a fight was spreading through the packed noisy bar. He had to finish this before some cop he didn’t know showed up and there was hell to pay. He felt like killing Starblind but instead he cocked his fist and drove it low, as hard as he could, into Starblind’s solar plexus, where no one would have to know, and where the pain wouldn’t keep him from playing tomorrow. The breath whooshed from Starblind’s body as he slid down the side of the machine to the beer-slick floor. He looked up at Schwartz and sneezed pathetically.
“Hey,” Sophie protested as Schwartz lifted her drink-leaden arm, looped it around his neck, and steered her toward the exit. “I thought we were doing shots. Where’s Henry? Where’s Adam?” She leaned in to confide in Schwartz’s ear. “He’s hot. I mean like seriously.”
“He’s a dreamboat.” Owen held the front door, Lopez saluted, and they passed out into the night.
“My car’s down the block,” said Schwartz. “This way.”
Before they