Dirty Faces- Book 1

Chapter 10: A Sack of Flour

Chapter 10: A Sack of Flour

Tommy had graciously allowed Cricket McNabb and his buddies use of the field here and there to practice, and over the weekend Cricket had suggested they play each other. Somehow or other, everybody was going to be available Wednesday. Tommy canceled practice, though, on Tuesday, in order to "prepare the field"- the field, otherwise known as the patch of dirt by the schoolhouse. They were going to "prepare" the patch of dirt by the schoolhouse for a pick- up game of baseball. Nobody argued the case, though, because honestly none of them had anything better to do.

Tommy stood with his arms crossed in the general vicinity of home plate, surveying the dirt patch with narrowed eyes. The bruise on his face had faded to a greenish-yellowish color and for some reason it reminded Ginny a little bit of Frankenstein's monster.

"You go to church with Miss Fulchum, right, J.D.?" he observed. Miss Fulchum was the school teacher.

"Yep."

"You reckon you could swing by her place and see if she'd go in the school and get us the bases to use, just for one day? So long as we give 'em back soon as we're done?"

"Wouldn't hurt to ask."

"Good."

Tommy chewed on his cheek as he scrutinized the dirt patch further. "Lines would be nice," he mused.

Ginny raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Lines, Tommy? Really? This ain't the World Series, ya know."

"I know that! But if we can't get the bases we could at least...draw 'em, if we had the chalk for making lines."

"But we don't have that kind of chalk," Becky reminded him.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "There's gotta be something we can use."

"Flour?" Danny suggested.

Ginny did a double-take; Danny so rarely spoke.

"Nah, flour'll just wash away," J.D. argued.

"No, no, that's good!" Tommy affirmed. "Flour'll work fine for just one day." He thought for another moment then asked, "Who has some money?"

Not surprisingly, nobody spoke up.

The wheels in Tommy's head were spinning; the rest off them waited silently for them to screech to a halt. "Well, where to get that much flour? I doubt we even have enough to make a biscuit at the house," he said finally, playfully elbowing Danny.

"We have plenty," Becky admitted. "But my mother won' t let us use it and she's home so we can't just swipe what we need."

"There's the store," Tommy observed.

Becky looked appalled. Stealing from the store that was managed by her father and owned by the coal company would be a suicide mission.

"Sorry. No, you're right," he rushed to correct himself. "We're not shoplifters. Thieves, maybe. But not shoplifters."

"We have flour at my house," Ginny offered. "I dunno how much but nobody'll notice it gone."

"Nah, Ginny. You live so far outside town," J.D. said. "Look, we go through a lot of flour at home and we always have plenty. Mama's cleaning the officials' houses today, won't be home 'til this evening."

"Your sister-" Becky attempted to argue.

"Is easily distracted," he cut her off.

Tommy mulled it over a minute before deciding, "That's probably our best bet...Can y'all manage that while I go home and grab a broom to sweep some of this coal dust off the field?"