Page 3 of Her Wonderful Wonder Bell
“Please just freaking open,” I say between gritted teeth as I tug again.
The box pops open.Score!And…it’s anticlimactic. There isn’t much inside. A yellowing piece of paper. An empty gum wrapper. A baseball card. The piece of paper has some writing on it, but it’s short, and pretty confusing.
To whoever finds this-
If you’re reading this, then only you can help. This gal needs a lot of it. Help, that is. Please take care of her.
If Brigley is still around when you find this, DO NOT trust him! DO NOT tell him she—or any of the girls—are back!
-V
Brigley? As in Mister Brigley, my boss,ownerof the Wonder Balls? She can’t be talking about the same guy. The man I know is older than me, yeah, but he’s not old enough to have been around when Rosa’s grandma wrote that. At least, that’s who I’m guessing V is, anyway, since Valentina owned the candy store before Rosa. She was old when I was born and dead since I was a little kid.
Oh, I’m so dumb—they must be talking about Brigley’s dad. Or even grandpa? I don’t know anything about his family, but it would make sense.
As for the rest of the letter, what the hell does that mean? Who am I supposed to take care of, and why would I be the only one who could take care of them? How would a candy store owner from way back know whowould find this?
Actually, this whole thing was probably left as a prank or something. A joke that they expected someone to find sooner.Hmm.
Well, onto the more exciting part—the baseball card. Ilovebaseball cards. I especially loverarebaseball cards, and I’ve never seen one like this. It’s clearly old because it’s in black and white, first off, and they started regularly producing color photograph cards in the fifties. Second, this is a card featuring a player from the North American Ladies Baseball League, which went under in 1952.
Wait. The North American Ladies Baseball League never had baseball cards. They didn’t get treated with that kind of respect.
I read the card carefully.
Pearl Monroe
North American Ladies Baseball League All Star
Pitcher—Ghostlight Falls Wonder Belles—1943-1946
Wait, what? Ghostlight Falls had a women’s baseball team? That can’t be right. I’ve read everything I could find on our town’s baseball history ever since I learned to read. Not once wasanything named WonderBellesmentioned. It’s WonderBalls.Always has been.
I read the card again and again, but it doesn’t give me any further hints about the team, only a blurb about the player, Pearl.
“Pearl Monroe is famous for her ability to pitch and bat both left and right-handed with equal skill. While much of her childhood remains a mystery, her early adult years were spent with the glitterati. Though she’s best known for her films such as “Funny Broad” and “One Night in Ontario,” she’s also done charity work by filming public service warnings for schools like “Reefer Goons, Get Lost!” and “Pants On, Books Open.”
Well, that’s…outdated.
I look at the picture again. The face of Pearl Monroe smiles at me. She’s really beautiful. Anyone could tell by looking that she’s hamming it up for the camera.
In those days they made women wear skirts while playing, and she’s posing in a way that shows just a little more leg than strictly necessary. She’s got this big, cheeky smile while holding the bat, the kind of expression you’d see on the old pin-up art. Her lightblonde ponytail, poking out the back of her red cap, is curled perfectly at the end. Somehow, even though it’s in black and white, I can tell that the dark tint of her lips is red. Damn, she’s hot. No wonder she got a baseball card back when no other ladies did.
“I wish I had a pretty girlfriend like her who liked baseball as much as I do,” I mumble.
Ugh.Maybe I’m a little lonelier than I thought because now I just feel sad. There really isn’t anyone like this Pearl girl around here. Fucking woe is me.
I set the box and card on my bed. Turning on the computer to get it ready to game, I put a background show on the T.V. and leave the room. In the kitchen, I grab a cold drink of water to reset my system. No use in sitting around dehydrated and feeling sad about girls when I have technology to numb my brain.
As I head back toward my room, I hear a rustling sound coming from inside. It’s not loud but there’s definitely movement. From the hallway, I creep closer toward the open door. I’d grab my bat to protect myself, but of course I left it under my bed.
Please don’t kill me before I beat the game. I haven’t even unlocked all the stadiums yet.
My heart pounds as I poke my head just barely inside. What horrible creature might be waiting there to maim me?
Holy Fucking Balls.
Pearl Monroe is standing in my bedroom, in full color,alive…ish.
