Chapter Text
Practice went fairly quick and Jess McCready was bored. It had been one week training and playing under coach Dove Porter. The two hour practices were basically batting practice and fielding some balls. She found herself sitting on the front steps alone, most of the other Peaches on an errand she wasn’t interested in.
The pitcher, Lupe Garcia, had also stayed behind. She came out of the house and approached the short stop. “Can I bum a cigarette? I left mine in my room.”
Jess picked up her pack and handed it and her matches to Lupe. “Help yourself.”
Lupe had a cigarette lit quickly and began smoking. “So, Moose Jaw. What goes for excitement there?” She asked.
“There are lots of bars,” Jess was not one for unnecessary words.
“Hm. I like the bars back home better.”
“Oh, yeah? What makes them better?”
“I like the patrons. More my type.”
Jess turned her head to look at Lupes profile more closely. She felt a twinge of familiarity with Lupe. But she wasn’t sure. “Type. And what is your type?”
Lupe took a draw from her cigarette. That is the exact question she would ask if she were fishing for information. Information on whether she liked girls over boys. She exhaled the smoke from her lungs. She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one else was around. Yes, it was a risk, but she was sure Jess was a safe bet. “You remember when we went out for drinks the other night? Someone came and sat down next to you and stayed for a couple drinks. That would be my type.”
Jess reviewed that night in her head. A brunette with long curly hair and striking red lipstick occupied the seat next to her. A woman. Jess smiled, and replied, “Brunettes, huh. Good to know. There is a bar in Moose Jaw you would like.”
Both girls breathed a little easier, knowing they had found sanctuary among a friend.
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The next day, while at practice, Jess and Lupe were talking off to the side, trying to determine if there was anyone else was queer like them on the team. “I’d guess Jo,” Lupe said.
Jess was about to reply with a guess of her own when Martin, the bat boy, wandered over. Jess and Lupe looked at each other, their look saying, “definitely gay,” and nodded a greeting to him. “How are you fitting into Rockford life? Been getting into any trouble?” he asked mischievously.
“It’s nice. There’s dancing at the bars if you like that kind of thing.” Lupe summed up.
“Have you girls found a bar yet that… suited you?” Martin questioned. If it is one thing that he knows, it is that Like knows Like.
Jess took the cigarette from behind her ear and lit it. “Still looking. Why, do you know of one we should check out?”
“Looks like you need some… tax help.” he takes a piece of paper with an address on it. “I recommend the Blue Light Special. Tell George, the tax guy, you’re a friend of Dorothy.” he winked at them and returned to the dugout.
“Like in the movie? Lupe called after him.
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That night after curfew both Jess and Lupe snuck out and met at the corner of the street as planned. They both look over the other, both wearing pants, both smiling in rebellion. Lupe speaks in a conspiring tone, “ready, hermano?”
Jess smiles big, liking the sound of the word (she thinks it means brother? Lupe had used it once when interpreting for Esti that Jess had a lot of brothers.) “Lets go,” she whispered back. They had a little spring in their step, anticipating what lie in store for them.
They passed the theater, turned down the alley next to the theater, and saw a blue light. They looked around and saw no one following them. When they entered the door, a man with thinning hair, they assume George, asks them with a smile, “Need help with your taxes? We have a solution.”
Jess says, “We’re, uhh, friends of Dorothy?”
George stands excitedly, leads them to a door barely noticeable on the far wall. “Of course! You're the pitcher, right? You're both Peaches! Right this way, please. Enjoy your night!”
They walk down a short hallway and move a heavy curtain aside. Straight ahead is the bar, with a bright sign, “The Office,” lit up. There are men and women dispersed throughout, some sitting at tables, some dancing. The difference with this bar was the men were dancing with men, and the women paired off together.
Jess puts her arm around Lupe’s shoulder, sharing her excitement through touch. Lupe pats her back, returning the touch. “Beer?” They both say simultaneously.
Jess smiles, and moves them toward the bar. “Yeah, but first round is on you, hermano.”