Lupe Throws Like A Girl

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, we have a book about Dot Wilkinson in our library. It’s right over there.” The puzzle player pointed to the far end of the game room, where a jumbled library overflowed with magazines and paperback novels. Lupe stood up and moved toward the shelves that she had previously overlooked.

“Oh, Lynn. How can you find anything on those shelves? Are you sure? Dot Wilkinson?” The Rummikub players never took their eyes off their tiles.

“Of course, I’m sure. I wrote that book.” The woman they knew as Alice, with short, cropped salt-and-pepper hair, stood next to the players with her arms crossed over her chest. She turned and followed Lupe to the bookshelves. “It’s right there, honey. It’s called Girls Play Ball, Too.”

“Really? You wrote this?” Lupe had never met a real author and found it hard to believe that this little old lady knew anything about softball. “How did you do that?”

“Dot and I were friends in Arizona when we were young. She told me all her stories. She never had enough money to buy shoes or equipment. She had to work after school to help out her folks. And worst of all was the teasing and rubbish she got from the boys, and even some of the girls, for playing ball.”

“Wow, that sounds a lot like me.” Lupe turned the book over in her hands. “Can I borrow this book for a school report?”

“You bet, sweetheart. None of the women here want to read about women in sports. You can have it. And if you need any help, just ask me.” Alice looked pleased to see Lupe’s interest.