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  • From Out of Left Field
  • Jimmy Carl Harris (bio)

"Gettin' short, Danny?"

"Man, I'm so short I need a stepladder to put my boots on."

One of the Delta Company grunts laughs and says, "Stubbs is short. When you gettin' out of 'Nam, short-timer?"

"Two days and a wake-up. Is that short, or what?"

A second grunt asks, "Yo, short-timer, how come it is, you riding herd on three new guys, bringing chow out here?"

"So I could laugh at y'all, still in the boonies while I swoop to the world." Danny makes hand movements indicating an airplane taking off.

"Yea, Danny. You the man."

You the man. Danny sinks into his favorite reverie and replays that last game. Proud in pinstripes he trots out to left field and waits while the other eight take their positions on the sun-drenched green, red, and white geometry. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, pounds his fist into his glove, and joins in the chatter of anticipation flying from player to player. It's the top of the ninth, and his team has a 1-run lead. Soon, two of the opposing batters are retired, but the next sends a hot grounder past the third baseman. Danny Stubbs charges the ball, like a streak from out of left field, scoops it up on the run, throws it fast and straight and just in time to first. The Lee High batter trudges off the field, glaring at Danny to the delight of the hometown partisans. The Azalea Springs cheerleaders bounce and chant, "Danny, Danny, he's our man. If he can't do it, nobody can!"

Now, two years later, Danny tunes out the chatter of his Marine comrades and reflects on the bitter irony that, off the field, he had hardly been their man. He sullies his comfort in present camaraderie by reminding himself that no cheerleader would date a guy whose widowed mother cleaned rooms, a guy who lived in a trailer and had no car, a guy soon to drop out of high school and enlist in the Marine Corps. Maybe so, he tells himself, but they had [End Page 116] cheered for him. One fine day, the pretty girls in short skirts had cheered for Danny Stubbs.

The derisive tone of one of the grunts brings Danny back to Vietnam. "Here comes one of your new guys. Probably wants to know when he gets his Purple Heart, 'cause he cut his finger serving chow."

"Yeah, right." Danny looks up at the young Marine standing before him. "Y'all got the chow line back on the truck?"

"Yes, Lance Corporal. Can we give these leftovers to the gooks?" He points toward a small group of villagers between two huts. The eight black-clad Vietnamese, one old man, the rest women or children, do not visibly respond to the young Marine's gesture.

"You ain't been in-country long enough to be calling anybody gook. Go ahead, but watch yourself. These guys say this ville is pacified, but that just means they ain't taking incoming."

The three new guys gather up some oranges and two partial loaves of bread. They walk, smiling, toward the group of villagers. As they approach the crouching Vietnamese stand and begin moving farther away. The would-be benefactors pause and look at one another. The new guy who had spoken to Danny shrugs and takes several more steps toward the villagers. His food-laden companions follow closely.

One of the grunts turns to Danny. "Don't let your new guys wander off like that. Those dinks are acting nervous about something."

"Yo. New guys. Just put the chow on the ground and come on back."

The new guys look back at Danny then continue toward the villagers. Muttering to himself about the total stupidity of all new guys, Danny stands. "Looks like they need their first chewing out of the day," he comments to his grinning companions as he strides away.

The small green ball skips along the earth toward the new guys. They stare at it, transfixed by horror and confusion. But Danny Stubbs knows a...

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