Audience and cast stood up as one and started for the various exits.
“What’s up?” I detained the ex-Prez with a hand on his arm.
“It’s two-thirty,” he explained.
“So?”
“Piss call.” A passing wood nymph with five o’clock shadow paused to explain.
I looked blank.
“Tradition,” the wood nymph elucidated, scratching his stubble. “Every day at two thirty, we Baroquians go outside and empty our bladders against the trunks of the redwood trees. You fellows must be guests, or you would have known that. You should have told them,” he chastised the-ex-Prez.
“Gee, I forgot.” He was on his feet and moving towards the exits with the other men.
“Suppose you don’t have the need?” I inquired.
“It’s tradition!” the wood nymph told me in an injured tone of voice. “You can’t go against tradition.”
“Like not letting women join or work at the club?”
“Sure. We couldn’t relieve ourselves against the trees if there were women around, could we? I mean, how would that look?”
“A lot of women are probably wondering about that very thing right now.”
“Gosh, do you really think so? I mean, I didn’t think that ladies—-” The ex-Prez was troubled.
“I was only kidding.”
“Oh. Ha ha.” The ex-Prez laughed politely. “Well, I have to go.”
“When you gotta go, you gotta go.
“What about you fellows? The tradition includes guests, you know.” The wood nymph was concerned.
“We’ll be along in a minute.”
“Don’t be late. We try to do it all together. In the spirit of good fellowship, you know. We call it the ‘unit rule’.”
“Right behind you,” I assured him, lying in my teeth.
The hall emptied out quickly. Soon the only ones left were Rhino and myself and the hula skirted ‘star’ up on the stage. We approached her.
“Steve!” She sprang to her feet as she recognized us. “Rhino! What are you-all doin’ here?”
“Looking for you,” I told her. “The question is what are you doing here dancing a hula with a bunch of honchos in drag when the Superbowl is only a week away?”
“Seems I got me a problem, Steve.” Terry hung her head. “Bun in the oven.”
“We know all about your problem. But what are you doing here?”
“I done passed out in Doc Fink’s office ’count of my condition. No way I could be playin’ them practice scrimmages now that I’m in the family way. I mean, I’d surely lose the little bugger. So they brought me here to the Baroquian Orchard for my own sake.”
“Did it occur to you that the shot Doc gave you might have had something to do with your passing out?”
“Nope.” Terry looked bewildered. “Why would I thank a thang like that?”
“Because you were shanghaied,” I told her. As far as the team is concerned, you just” vanished.”
“Why, that Mister Putnam said as how he’d explain it to you-all, an’ there wouldn’t be any problem a-tall.”
“That wasn’t done, Terry. What else did he tell you?” I wondered.
“He explained as how it would be immoral to get an abortion.”
“I’ll bet!” Charles Putnam, champion of the all-male exclusivity practiced at the Baroquian Club, would of course have had the last word on morality for women! “Do you have any idea who the father is?” I asked Terry.
“Why yes, I do declare I thank I do.”
“Do you think it’s me, Terry?” I faced up to the responsibility squarely.
“Why, Steve darlin’, next thang you’ll be offerin’ to make an honest woman outa me. No, sugah, I surely do not believe it’s your doin’. I was always careful to use my diaphragm with us.”
“Somebody else on the team?”
“Not our team. No. I was always‘ protected.”
“Who then?”
“Way back, early on in the season, there was this pile-up in one of the games. One of the opposing tackles—I’m still not sure which one—he put it to me there under the mess of bodies.”
“Are you trying to tell me that he had sex with you right on the field?”
“I do believe so.”
“But—But—”
“I never did put in my diaphragm before the games. Didn't rightly seem to be any need.”
“I should think not!”
“Never figured it would come up during a game.”
“Not with the TV cameras and all,” I agreed. “But listen, Terry.” I shook my head disbelievingly. “The time element—?”
“Well now, whoever this fellow was, he had some mighty fast moves. I’m not denyin’ that. Slid down my pants. Put it in. Came. Pulled out. Pulled up my pants. It was all over by the time the referee blew his whistle.”
“But what about you?”
“Tell the truth, I didn’t have me no orgasm, Steve. Now, that surely doesn’t happen to me too often.”
“That’s not what I mean. What I mean is, why didn’t you say something?”
“You mean like to the referee? Or the line judge? Didn’t hardly seem worth makin’ a fuss, Steve. I mean, suppose they penalized him ten yards for illegal procedure? Why, I’d just have had to turn down the penalty. You see, I’d just completed a pass for a first down before they piled onto me.”
“Are you sure that was when you got pregnant?
“That’s the only time it could have been.” Terry sighed. “Sure wasn’t much fun for so much trouble.”
“Mr. Victor!” The voice came from the other end of the hall-cold, commanding, and familiar. “What are you doing here?” Charles Putnam demanded. He strode towards us, an imposing authoritative figure.
“Rescuing Terry Niemath.” I refused to be intimidated. “The question is, what’s she doing here?”
“That doesn’t concern you.”
“The hell it doesn’t.”
“You are in our employ, Mr. Victor. Hired to do our bidding. You and Mr. Dubrowski. I recall no orders summoning you here. Nor is Miss Niemath in need of rescuing. She is being looked after very well, thank you.”
“What about the Superbowl?” Rhino blurted out.
“Due to circumstances which needn't concern you, she will not be playing in the Superbowl.”
“They already know ’bout my delicate condition,” Terry informed him.
“I see.” Putnam nodded. “Then no further explanation is needed. You two will return to your duties with the team. Miss Niemath will remain here with us.”
“It won’t wash, Putnam. It’s not just her being pregnant. There’s something very fishy going on here.”
“Nonsense!” You are being unnecessarily melodramatic, Mr. Victor. I can’t imagine why you should think there is anything more to this than the obvious embarrassment to the team of a quarter-back who is—as the French say—enceinte.”
“I think there’s more to it,” I said carefully, “because you wouldn’t allow a female on these sacrosanct male premises unless there was some really overriding reason.”
“Don’t be naive, Mr. Victor. Certain females have graced these premises on other occasions. We are men, after all. Our needs are the needs of the masculine gender.”
“I’m not talking about the tootsies for your stag parties and you know it. I’m talking about a woman that’s not here for your pleasure, a woman who sees you in your tutus, a woman who might even see you watering the redwoods, a woman so important to you that you even pass her off as a man impersonating a female and stick her in one of your silly shows.”
“Oh, Steve, but that’s such downright fun!” Terry exclaimed.
“You’ve sucked me in, Mr. Putnam.” I ignored her. “I don't know into what, but I'm going to find out. There’s more involved here than Terry's condition, and I want to know what it is. What's more, Mr. Putnam, you’re going to tell me.”