The
Black Knight Squash Fiction League Match #2
The Handouts versus The Tin Ringers
EAST
SIDE A
Collaborative Novel
Chapter 12
Courting Drama By Georgetta L. Morque
Yvette arrived at Eastside early for her
2:30 p.m. match in the Masters tournament. As she checked in at
the players’ registration table, she observed the flurry of activities
underway to transform the club into a tournament site. The staff rushed
about with new squash balls, score sheets and towels and took special
care in cleaning the glass on the exhibition court 1. Upstairs, a
new craft brewing company was setting up for the players’ party that
evening. Multiple languages could be heard as players greeted one
another and gathered at the bulletin board to study the draw sheets.
Yvette’s adrenaline started to kick in.
Before heading to court 3 to warm up, she
popped in on Hank who had a bye in the first round of the 40s draw and
was busy fielding phone calls from players and members about the
tournament.
“Hey there. Wish me luck,” she whispered with a smile and a wave.
Hank enthusiastically gave her a thumbs-up and mouthed, “Need to talk later - Kate.”
“OK,” acknowledged Yvette quietly.
Yvette set her squash bag down by the court
and took a few deep breaths before going through her warm up of dynamic
stretching. She was wearing her white skirt and favorite Eastside
t-shirt that for some reason usually brought her good luck. She
then grabbed her racquet to hit some rails for a few minutes until her
opponent, Marlene Kucinich, arrived.
To Yvette’s surprise, Marlene had
ditched her leopard look and instead wore a very short black Nike dress
with a plunging neckline. She’s all about cleavage, isn’t she,
thought Yvette. The two women greeted each other with feigned
cordiality and Marlene picked up her pink Black Knight racquet, stepped
inside the court and began nailing rails.
Back downstairs, Hank was anxiously
checking his cell phone in between taking club calls and booking
lessons. He had texted Kate in response to her note and suggested she
meet him for dinner later and even come to the party if she was up to
it. She hadn’t responded. He did hear from Jerry who was trying
to get the Van Alstyne family to come to the matches. It would be great to show them the club with the tournament going on, thought Hank.
Outside, the light snow that started
falling around midday had become heavier. Sidewalks were cumbersome to
navigate and traffic was slow. The familiar honking of horns was louder
than usual. Tournament officials looked out the window and rechecked
the forecast on their phones; they weren’t too worried yet. Weather
rarely stops anything in New York. --------------- Marie and Kate were still reeling from the horror they had witnessed on the Nanny Cam.
“Once the lock is changed, I’ll get the new key to Joe,” said Marie, “but we don’t want him giving it to that monster.”
“Then what happens when Joe can’t make it?” asked Kate. “I think you should just find a new dog walker altogether.”
“But I like Joe,” said Marie. “What do I do?” she started crying again.
“What about other dog owners in the building or the neighborhood, maybe they can help?” replied Kate.
“Well, Sassy needs a walk now, so I
suppose I’ll take her out and maybe find someone to tell my sad story
to. Want to come?” she sniffled.
“I would,” said Kate, but I have to
work on these designs. I’m way behind since so much was trashed. Plus
my dad wants to get together later.”
“Your dad? I didn’t think you were speaking
to your parents. And what are you going to do about Pike and the derby
tonight? I hope you’ve gotten yourself out of that.”
“Well, I do want to see my dad, so I
contacted him and he wants to see me too. I guess this whole mess with
Pike really got to me. I took my dad’s racquets back. As for
Pike, I texted him a legitimate excuse that something important came up
with my dad.”
“Well, that’s good,” said Marie. “Then
maybe I’ll see you when I get back. I have some errands to run
though, hopefully before the snow gets worse. Although Sassy loves the
snow.”
“I wish that locksmith would call back,” said Kate. ------------- “Mr. Reynolds, you should come to court 3,” said one of the junior volunteers. “There’s some sort of a fight going on.”
Hank raced over to find Yvette in tears and
Marlene enraged with her Black Knight racquet cracked on the
floor. A crowd had gathered despite the fact the number 4
seed in the men’s 35s was on court 2. But court 3 seemed to be the
focus of attention.
The referee, an older gentleman, was at his
wits end. “I awarded a much deserved conduct stroke to this lady,”
gesturing to Yvette, “because her opponent threw her racquet,” looking
at Marlene. “Now, I’ve been physically threatened. In all the matches
I’ve refereed, I’ve never seen something thing quite like this one,” he
told Hank.
“Ms. Kucinich,” said the referee.
“One more incident and you’ll have to forfeit the match. Look, games
are now 2-2. Could you please just settle down and play?”
“She keeps blocking me,” shouted Marlene loudly.
“That’s not true,” said Yvette, wiping a mixture of tears and sweat from her face. “I’ve been clearing.”
At that moment, Jerry appeared with
Margarethe and Henrik Van Alstyne. The three had just arrived and
snow was still clinging to their coats and scarves.
What the hell, thought Jerry, in a panic, quickly trying to push the two Van Alstynes in the direction of court 2. A hissy fit on the court, that’s all we need.
Finally Marlene took out a second racquet.
Yvette composed herself and play resumed. Although both players
were rattled and exhausted, the pressure was on Marlene to keep her
cool, the biggest challenge of all. They each made a series of errors
bringing the score to 5-5. In her frustration, Marlene’s power game
started losing its effect and Yvette remained the steadier of the
two. A successful drop shot and a couple of lucky nicks and
Yvette took the game 11-8 to win the match.
Hank was happy for Yvette and annoyed with
Marlene for causing such a commotion, but his focus was on his latest
text message. Kate was coming. ------------------------------------------ Kate worked hard until late in the day. She
was even more pleased with this batch of drawings than the ones Pike
had destroyed and was in a pretty good place for heading out to meet
her dad. It will be strange after all these months, she thought.
She heard sounds at the door.
“Marie?”
Georgetta Morqueis
a public relations consultant and freelance writer. Born and raised in
New York City, she acquired the passion for squash through the legacy
of her late father, Joseph J. Lordi, a national squash tennis champion
and two-term president of the New York Athletic Club where the squash
courts are dedicated to his memory. Georgetta is the founder of
the squash program at the Rye school district in New York’s Westchester
County and was instrumental in creating the Fairwest league for public
schools. She is the mother of three athletes, including a son who plays
on the squash team at Franklin & Marshall College.
This
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are
either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead,
is entirely coincidental.
