“You are crazy!”
Orville returned to the mound to be greeted by the spaniel.
“How are you not dead?”
The porcupine sighed, “I'm not sure, but I'm sure glad.”
“I bet. I'm Hein.” He grabbed the large rodent's paw and shook it, then snared a ferret in his arm, “This is Venn.”
“You threw me to that tiger, you jerk!” He punched the dog in the gut and pushed himself out of his grip.
Brushing off the hit, Hein turned to the three foot rat, “And this imaginatively named half-pint is Ratt.”
“I don't think they expected me to survive out here.”
Orville shook his fellow rodent's paw, “Well let's see if we can surprise them some more.”
“Here's your chance; something's coming out of the… Would you look at those legs.”
Orville turned to see a tall dalmatian stepping out of the dugout. She looked at them gathered on the mound and he knew he didn't have much time. Turning back to the spaniel, “Okay, listen quick. We're going to try a different way of getting her attention, instead of just chasing her around the field. We're not animals and we need to stop acting like it.” He grabbed the ferret's arm, “Venn, when she steps on the plate, you hurry up to her and try to explain that we won't chase her; we're protesting from the inside.”
“What?”
Ratt caught on, “Yeah, a protest.”
“They'll kill us.”
“You're fine. They're not expecting you to get her anyway; you're the wrong species.”
“Um, I…”
Hein saw the dalmatian start her run and shoved the ferret off the mound, “Just go.”
Orville was down to seconds and turned to Ratt, “Your job is to let her know she has a choice. He's not going to force himself on her. I'll be right behind you.”
“Right,” the rat jumped to the back of the mound, then into the grass as she tagged first.
“Hein, when she comes around third, just walk towards her; don't stop her. The rules say that after she tags home, she can come back and choose who she wants. Just wait for it. Gotta go.” He left the dog to think as he headed for third, watching the dalmatian jog slowly from second with the other two keeping pace and talking to her. They had gotten her attention, but he had to speak fast, “You have a choice.”
She slowed and stopped a step away from the bag, looking nervously at the large, bushy rodent and up at the crowd that was booing them. “They'll kill me.”
“It's in the rules; after you touch home, you can choose. He's not going to chase you; he's leaving it up to you. All you have to do is pick him.”
“I was hoping for a dalmatian.”
“You don't have to breed with him, just take him off the field to save both your lives.”
She looked at the spaniel, then a cup hit her in the face and she looked at the angry crowd littering the field with trash.
“Just go.” Venn gave her a small push that made her touch the base and Hein started walking toward her, but she panicked and took off for home.
The spaniel watched her race by with terrified tears in her eyes, but she stopped short and looked back at him. He waited, wondering if this was how the porcupine had planned it, then she stepped on the plate and and walked back to him. The crowd calmed some as she found her words, “It's my choice?”
Hein smiled and nodded, “I'm …”
“And picking you saves both our lives?”
He felt a weight roll over him with the reality of their situation, “Yeah.”
She grabbed his face and kissed his lips, holding him as the crowd erupted in cheers and a growing chant: Fuck her! Fuck her! Fuck her! She grabbed his wrist and ran for the dugout, pulling him behind, chased by the audience's laughter and disappointment.
Orville sighed and headed back for the mound as the announcer played up their suggested activities. The crowd was satiated and he hoped that a small success could be a foundation for change.
