Read Online Back in her time by Patricia Corbett Bowman - Free Book Online Page A

by now.
    Taylor remembered the jam incident suddenly and smothered her mouth with a hand. Mac stared at her for a moment and then it was as if a light bulb went off and he too started to laugh.
    â€œWhat? What’s so funny?” Whitey asked.
    â€œIt’s your story, Mac. You tell it,” said Taylor.
    Mac wiped his eyes and between fits of snorting like a horse told how he had been covered in blood until Junior came up and wiped his face off and discovered the true cause. Several listeners joined in the guffawing.
    â€œYou’re laughing with me, right?” Mac managed to squeak out.
    â€œWish I’d been there, Mac. That must have been a sight,” said Red. “Got to go take a leak after that story.”
    â€œWe don’t know if we’re going to be here for an hour or a day. Anyone up to a game?” asked Mac.
    â€œYou still have all our money from the last game until the pay clerk finds us. How about something more physical?” Taylor asked.
    â€œLike what — football, baseball?” asked Red.
    â€œI was thinking baseball,” said Taylor. “To make it interesting, how about we borrow Cook’s animals and ride them from base to base? You know, Donkey Baseball. Have you heard of it?” Taylor glanced around the small group. Where do I get these ideas? Pops must have told me.
    â€œThat will make it kind of hard. Those stupid asses never do what they’re supposed to,” said Swampy, overhearing the conversation.
    â€œThat’s the idea,” said Taylor. “Come on, Mac. Let’s see if we can round up a couple.”
    Cook could be as stubborn as his animals, but seeing it was Junior (who had come up with the beer-cooling idea), he relented. “Now don’t wear ’em out. We may still have a big march ahead of us today. They’re all that’s keeping youse men from starvin’ to death until we get a proper truck sent in to take over for them.”
    Mac and Taylor made a mock salute to the cook as they pushed and pulled the reluctant animals, Max and Goering, to an open field. Cook donated three burlap bags full of some unknown staple, and the diamond was set up. Someone appeared with a bat, another with a worn glove and ball. Sides were chosen.
    As the first batter readied himself, Max, his charge, was held to the right of home by a teammate and pointed in the correct direction after several attempts. After two strikes and two balls, a long hit was achieved, and the batter threw the bat, jumped on his steed, and proceeded to yell and kick the poor animal. Max refused to move, then sauntered out toward the pitcher’s mound. Much screaming, cheering, and cajoling finally persuaded Max to head toward first base. By this time, an outfielder had tossed the ball to the first-baseman, and he ran up and tagged the donkey and his man. More cheers and laughter filled the air. The game continued for an hour more. Taylor’s team finally had the first home run after Red hit the ball out of the field. With much pushing, Goering was finally dragged across home plate to win the game by one to nothing before the men were called to their units for orders.
    Returning as fresh as if they’d had an afternoon rest instead of pushing dumb animals around a baseball diamond, the men paid heed to their sergeants. Cook, who had been watching the game with his assistant, came to take the bewildered animals back to their wagon for water and a deserved rest. He could be overheard whispering endearments into Max and Goering’s ears as he coaxed them back to his station.
    â€œOur orders are for firearm practice so we don’t get rusty,” Sarge told his men. “We had extra ammo sent up so we’re to get to work immediately. Whitey, you take about six men over there and set up some targets for us. Ask Cook for some empty tin cans or find some other things to hit. Mac, start lining the men up several hundred feet from the