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Show SECOND WIND I By Ada McElfresh IT WAS Spring again and Joe was restless. And miserable. Tormented with the bitter truth that he "The Great Lefty Cramer." they had called him last Fall In what had amounted to an obituary for the ' part of him that was baseball-was, baseball-was, in his own words, "the great J has-been." To Joe's way of thinking, he was through. And since he was through, he was no good for Julie, He seemed to have forgotten that their wedding vows had Included 'in sickness and in health . . . till death do us part . . .' Julie bit her lip. Joe mustn't ee her fear. She 'ooked up, smiling, but he walked past her, toward trie bedroom bed-room closet where he kept his treasures, his mitt and mask that he wore when he did double-duty behind the plate, the ball with which he had tapped Andrus out as the big slugger galloped toward to-ward nome plate. i ernoon un, her mind shut against the unreasoning fear that rose again and again. Joe's heart, his gallant stubborn heart . . . She paused, of necessity, to catch her bre3th, aware of the loud shouts of small boys without knowing or caring what they were shouting about. "Eye on the bU now watch it!" Cr-rackl That voice I That dear, familiar fami-liar yet almost forgotten, happy voice! He didn't see her at first, Joe didn't, but he was happy. She could tell from the way he stood, feet apart, hands on hips, watching the kid with the bat. It had been a lousy swat but- what did that matter? Julie stood, transfixed, as Freckle-face threw to Towhead who missed and the ball rolled toward her. Joe was looking at her now. not grinning, just looking Julie caught her breath. What if he weren't . . . what if she were the one who was wrong wrong for "Darling" Impulsively, Julie went to stand beside him. "You've had to slow down. All right. Lots of men do. But you'll get your second sec-ond wind. You can do things, we can do things together, like we always have." ' What, for Instance?" h demanded de-manded bitterly, without looking at her. "Collect stamps? Or knit? For God's sake, Julie, can't you let me alone?" He slammed out of the house, catcher's mitt and mask clutched in one hand, the precious game-winning game-winning ball in the other. But Joe didn't come. He still hadn't :ome by mid-afternoon. But Joe wouldn't do anything, he's too sensible, Julie told herself. He's Just walking off his huff . . . But walking fast Suddenly frantic. Julie jumped up from her chair by the window. Dear God pleasel He wasn't down by the river, where he usually walked. He wasn't at the cigar store on the corner, where he often swapped tales with oldtimers. Julie hurried on in the warm-for-April late aft- Joe . . . Quickly, she scooped up the ball which nad rolled to her feet and stopped, invitingly As surely, she hefted ihe ball to get the feel of it It had been so long, she realized real-ized suddenly and, drawing her arm back, let It fly like a homing pigeon straight for the plate. Joe's grin was slow. He held out his arms and she ran into them. "I'm getting that second wind you've been harping on. honey," he said long kisses later. "I can take that Job at the cigar store and still have time to coach the kids, that towhead looks like another an-other Slugger Andrus " "He does, d-doesn't he?" Lousy swat and all. she thought. But if Joe said so "Let's make him better still." The second Lefty Cramer" she giggled "even if he is a righthander." For answer, the first Lefty Cramer planted a hearty, approving approv-ing kiss ob her hps. |
