Dottie called time and jogged up to the mound. "High fast balls," she told Ellen Sue. "She can't hit 'em, and she can't lay off 'em."
Ellen Sue nodded and rearranged her grip on the ball hidden inside her mitt, preparing to throw the high heat. Dottie made her way back to her position behind home plate – behind Kit. Kit took a few more practice swings, eyes locked on Ellen Sue. Dottie's hard stare in Kit's direction betrayed little emotion. Lowering her mask and lifting her glove, Dottie prepared for the pitch. Despite the clamor from the crowd behind them, for the two sisters everything felt silent.
Jimmy had been right. Dottie loved Bob with all her heart, but baseball was what ignited her soul. When she had been playing in the industrial leagues in Oregon, she could never have imagined that one day she'd have the chance to actually play in the World Series against some of the best ballplayers in the country. She couldn't let this opportunity slip away. Bob knew too that if they had kept driving to Oregon, his wife would always harbor a twinge of regret about what might have been. She needed this one last shot to see what she could do. Now the only thing that stood between her and her culminating victory was her fiery, stubborn, kid sister Kit, who, against all reason, simply wouldn't lay off the high ones.
Ellen Sue wound up for her first pitch. It was high but Kit swung. The ball smacked Dottie's mitt. Strike one.
Dottie tossed the ball back to Ellen Sue before crouching back into her position. She ignored the chatter from her teammates in the field and stayed focused on Ellen Sue as prepared to throw her second pitch. Another high ball, another strike. Just one more now. Dottie could feel the Racine crowd was on edge. She thrived on their apprehension, helping her channel her energy. Time for one more dagger.
"Kit, lay off the high ones!" the Racine manager yelled out from the dugout. Dottie again looked over at Kit, who had taken a moment to collect herself outside the batter's box. This time Dottie noticed Kit's glassy eyes, the strained look on her face. How had they gotten here? They were just two farm girls from Oregon, two girls who knew everything about the other, and now they were facing off in front of this sell-out crowd in the game they both loved so much, with everything on the line.
But how had they gotten here? To the point where neither could speak to the other. To this point of so much anger and outright hatred.
Is it my fault I got the talent? Is it my fault I was born first, always a step ahead? I'm just playing a game I love. A game I need.
But still, it was just a game….
Dottie crouched down for Ellen Sue's third pitch. She quickly glanced up at Kit as she stepped back into the batter's box. For a brief moment they locked eyes.
Well now you should know what's coming.
Dottie's gaze again turned to Ellen Sue. The pitch came in fast and high. This time, Kit connected.
Dottie stood up and ripped off her mask. The ball was headed for the fence but it wasn't going to make it over. The crowd was about losing its mind as one run scored, tying up the game. As the ball was relayed into the infield, it appeared to most people at the stadium that Kit was going be held up at third base. But most people didn't know Kit like Dottie did. Call it stubbornness or call it determination, Kit was going to try to go all the way.
As Kit blew past the third base coach telling her to stop, Dottie pressed her foot down hard on home plate and lifted her glove. The ball got to her when Kit was still only about halfway to home, but she continued charging ahead. There would be no avoiding this collision. They'd been on this path since they left Oregon all those months ago.
Though Kit was only a few feet away now, flying towards home, Dottie felt like time had slowed down as she waited for her sister to strike. With each step, the tenacious look on Kit's face grew clearer. Dottie held up the ball in front of her.
It felt like she'd been hit by a truck. Dottie of course had experienced home plate collisions before, but nothing with this kind of force. The sisters tumbled over one another, violently crashing into the dirt. Kit landed hard on home plate and continued rolling before finally coming to a stop near the edge of the now-blurry batter's box. Dottie fell backwards near the feet of the umpire. The ball drifted away from her outstretched fingers.
It took a moment for Dottie to come to her senses. Behind the ringing in her ears was a dull roar, almost like a distant train. A few seconds later the sounds became more distinct. From her resting place on the dirt behind home plate, Dottie felt like she could hear every single yell, every jubilant scream from each fan in the stadium.
This time the cheers weren't for her, but for Kit. Dottie got up slowly, still hurting from the collision. She saw Jimmy walking towards her, looking concerned. Dottie nodded to him, letting him know she was OK. The two of them stood by silently as they watched Kit, the former Peach, get mobbed by her celebrating teammates.
Dottie couldn't help but smile as she watched Kit leap up high, waving frantically to the adoring crowd. None of Dottie's countless amazing plays or victories had ever brought her this kind of satisfaction. Dottie hadn't dropped the ball on purpose – Kit had just wanted it more. She needed it more. And Dottie no longer did. She was ready to go home.