We barely know each other, if at all.But here we are, stalking back and forth and letting this filthy ball do the talking for us.I know what he drives.He knows where I work and what time I arrive.And now I’m familiar with where he shops for food.All this data and we’ve only exchanged a few words during an argument.She shook her head.This is our little silent war.
Giselle watched a woman stroll by pushing a cart stuffed with groceries.An idea for the plan finalized in her head.“Time to be courageous.”
In the glove box, she fished around for a piece of paper and had to settle for the envelope from an ancient bill.She found an old pen—I hope it has ink—and climbed back out of the car.She went to the trunk and placed the soccer ball into a plastic bag, then headed into the store.
If Tony saw her, the situation would end in an embarrassing defeat.Giselle slunk through the produce area, eyes darting back and forth for any sign of the linesman.She moved into the main section containing aisles of food and peeked around corners.She blended with families, hid behind cardboard displays, and hurried between spots after carefully choosing the best route.Shoppers threw her several peculiar stares, but she ignored them all.
Giselle finally spotted Tony in aisle seven, his back to her.A few items lined the bottom of his cart.He checked something on his phone, then moved forward a few feet to scan the shelf of canned and boxed food.After a moment, he pulled down a few cans of something and rolled on.He turned the corner at the end of the aisle and crossed over to inspect the poultry next to the meat processing area.
Giselle didn’t have the luxury of time or place to draft a carefully worded letter full of witty remarks and insults.She only had a few moments to think of something on the spot.Taking out the envelope and pen, she quickly wrote a silly note based on her rushed observations.
Rinaldi, your choice of nourishment is questionable.I would think someone involved in sports would respect their body and recognize poor quality, like processed food shoved in a tin can.I bet you use the microwave more than your stove.
Giselle
She hurried down the aisle and stopped near the end for a peek.Tony left his cart behind as he moved further away to look at the rows of chicken breast.Giselle waited until a chatting couple carrying hand baskets walked near, then scurried forward in their wake.Heart racing, she quickly placed the ball and note on top of his grocery items, then backtracked into the aisle.She bumped into a woman and received an annoyed glare.
“Sorry,” Giselle whispered, then sprinted away.
Back in her car, she whooped in victory and drove home to celebrate by eating a processed, frozen pizza.
Chapter Five
Cease Fire
After a crappy couple days at the office where Nigel continued his threats to fire Giselle, she headed to the sports park for one final practice before the weekend’s game.Led by Coach Jess, the team hustled and worked hard to polish their strategy and tactics to face the Blue Crush.Exhausted after a good session, Giselle bid farewell to her teammates and trudged to her car.
During the drive home, she yawned at least three times before pulling into her apartment complex in a quiet neighborhood behind a supermarket.Giselle hopped out of the vehicle and hefted her sports bag.She strolled to her place on the ground floor and paused when spotting a large package in front of the door.
“I didn’t order anything,” she mumbled, then squatted to inspect the label.
It was from the auto dealership!Giselle quickly stood and backed away as if the package had grown teeth.Did Nigel finally let me go?He must have packed my desk items and sent them here.The coward couldn’t even tell me in person!She ran trembling fingers through her sweaty hair, then paced on the small porch between her door and a neighbor’s.He has no right.I didn’t do anything wrong.
Fumbling for her keys, she opened the door to her apartment and shoved the box inside.Closing the entry, she snapped on lights and dropped her gym bag on the worn carpet.Taking a deep breath, she stared at the package and grew angry at the impersonal method of getting tossed out.She pictured Nigel’s thick fingers and grubby hands throwing her things into the box, a leer on his pudgy face.
Gritting her teeth, Giselle tore open the flaps.She reached into the box and yanked out wads of packing paper until her hand struck…the muddy soccer ball.
Stunned, she stared at the thing she had placed into Tony’s shopping cart days earlier.A sour mix of emotions surged, then shattered.Relief at not being fired slammed her in a torrent.The feeling progressed into elation, her heart swelling in joy.The delight then melted into irritation at herself for having leapt to the dreaded conclusion so fast.
Frustration evaporated beneath a giggle as she thought of Tony, the odd linesman who had countered her artillery barrage with a bomb run.Their silent war continued.The snicker soon elevated into a full belly laugh, and she sat back on the carpet shaking in mirth.After a moment, she pulled out the anticipated note and read.
I expected more from you, Chalmers.I find your choice of this apartment complex questionable.The fire department is far away.The hospital is also distant and makes emergencies inconvenient.I checked the ratings for your place on Yelp, and the management barely has over two stars.That rating matches my assessment of your mud ball tactics.Try better next time.
Tony
Giselle glanced between the ball and the note.I don’t even want to know how he discovered my address.Maybe he followed me home during an intelligence-gathering mission.He’s upped his game on the battlefield, which means I need to answer in kind.
She took a nice hot shower, then jumped on the computer to do some research.She checked the schedule for the remainder of the youth league soccer season and noted a game for Friday evening.Assuming Tony would be there, she planned to show up near the end of the match and follow him home.She had already honed her spy skills by tailing him to the grocery store.Now she would infiltrate the enemy base!
I’ll show him that mailing a package to me was weak sauce.I’ll go to his house for a personal delivery and plant the muddy ball in a strategic location for the best effect.The day will be won.
***
Friday arrived and Giselle made preparations after work, the most critical to smother the ball in a fresh batch of filth.She set the ball in a plastic bag and placed it in her car, then drove to Stone Bluff.She wore a dark colored outfit and parked far from the field where the youth game took place.Leaving her ride, she headed for a cluster of trees close to the game and felt relieved after seeing Tony on the sideline.Giselle watched the last fifteen minutes of play as the early evening sky began to dim.
The match ended, and the children exchanged high-fives and clustered around their team banners to enjoy a snack and post-game pep talk from their coaches.Parents gathered belongings, folded chairs on the sidelines, and climbed down bleachers to be with their kids.
Giselle watched as Tony spoke to the head ref for a few minutes.Afterwards, both crossed the field and chatted with each coach before the refs went their separate ways.Giselle stiffened and hid in the growing shadows as Tony walked to his car.She crept back to her vehicle and waited inside until he pulled out of the parking lot.
