I'm telling you, I saw daylight between the line and the ball, and it's my call, a strident voice answered.
Is that fun for you? To win by cheating? Why even play?
You aren't going to guilt me out of my point, Newel!
We better arm wrestle for it.
What would an arm wrestle prove? It's my call, and I
say it was out.
Seth had drawn even with the argument. He could not see the satyrs, but he could hear that they were not far off the path. He started shoving through the undergrowth.
Your call? Last time I checked, it takes two to play. I'm ahead; maybe I'll quit right now and declare myself champion.
Then I'll declare myself champion too, because that would be an indisputable forfeit.
I'll show you an indisputable forfeit!
Seth pushed between some bushes and stepped onto a level, well-trimmed grass tennis court. The court had neatly chalked lines and a regulation-style net. Newel and Doren stood at the far side of the court, faces red, each clutching a tennis racket. They looked like they were about to come to blows. As Seth emerged onto the court, they turned to face him.
Both of the satyrs were shirtless, with hairy chests and freckled shoulders. From the waist down they had the furry196 legs and hooves of a goat. Newel had redder hair, morefreckles, and slightly longer horns than Doren.
Glad you found us, Newel said, trying to smile. Sorry you happened by when Doren was being a knucklehead.
Maybe Seth can solve this one, Doren said.
Newel closed his eyes in exasperation. He wasn't here to see the point.
If you both think you're right, do it over, Seth said.
Newel opened his eyes. I could live with that.
Me too, Doren agreed. Seth, your new nickname is
Solomon.
You mind letting us finish this game? Newel asked.
Just so we can keep momentum? No fun to start again cold.
Go ahead, Seth said.
You be line judge, Doren said.
Sure.
The goatmen trotted into position. Newel was serving.
Forty-fifteen, he called, tossing a ball into the air and hitting it briskly into play. Doren hit a hard crosscourt forehand, but Newel was in position and hit it back with a gentle slice that took a soft bounce with a lot of spin. It looked unreachable, but Doren dove and managed to get his racket under the ball before the second bounce, popping it over the net. Newel had read the situation well and was already charging forward. As Doren scrambled up, Newel slammed the ball into the far corner of the court, bouncing it deep into the bushes.197 Go fetch it, nitwit! Doren said. You didn't have towail it into the woods. You had an open lane.
He's sore because I just went up five games to three,
Newel explained, twirling his racket.
I'm sore because you're trying to show off for Seth!
Doren said.
You're saying you wouldn't have slammed it if I'd hit you apathetic lob?
You were at the net! I would have just tapped it at a brutal angle. Better to win with finesse than to hunt for balls in the shrubbery.
You're both really good, Seth said.
The two goatmen looked pleased by the compliment.
You know, satyrs invented tennis, Newel said, balancing his racket on the tip of his finger.
They did not, Doren said. We learned about it on
TV.
I like your rackets, Seth said.
Graphite, light and strong, Newel said. Warren got us our equipment. Back before he went all Boo Radley on us.
The net, the rackets, a few cases of balls.
We built the court, Doren said proudly.
And we maintain it, Newel said.
The brownies maintain it, Doren corrected.
Under our supervision, Newel amended.
Speaking of tennis balls, Doren said, most of ours are flat, but with the supply dwindling, it always kills us to open a new can. If our battery arrangement works out, think you night be able to score us some new balls?198 If this works out, I'll get you whatever you want, Sethpromised.
Then let's get down to business, Newel said, setting down his racket and rubbing his palms together. You have the merchandise?
Seth scrabbled through his emergency kit and pulled out eight batteries, lining them up on the ground.
Would you look at that, Doren marveled. Have you ever seen such a gorgeous sight?
It's a start, Newel said. But let's face it, they'll run out before long. I assume there are more where those came from?
Lots more, Seth assured him. This is just a test run. If
I remember right, you said something about batteries being worth their weight in gold.
Newel and Doren shared a glance. We think we may have figured out something you'd like more, Newel said.
Follow us, Doren said.
Seth walked with the satyrs over to a little white shed not far from the net. Newel opened the door and ducked inside. He came out holding a bottle. What do you say?
Newel asked. A bottle of fine wine for those eight batteries.
Potent stuff, Doren confided. It'll put hair on your chest in no time. Good luck getting something like that from your grandparents.
Seth looked back and forth at the two satyrs. Are you serious? I'm twelve years old! Do you think I'm an alcoholic or something?199 We figured something like this might be tough for youto get, Newel said with a wink.
Good wine, Doren said. Primo.
That might be true, but I'm just a kid. What am I going to do with a bottle of wine?
Newel and Doren shared a nervous glance. Well done,
Seth, Newel said awkwardly, ruffling his hair. You...
passed our test. Your parents would be very proud.
Newel elbowed Doren. Yeah, um, sometimes we test people, Doren said. And play jokes.
Newel went back into the shed. He returned holding a blue frog with yellow markings. Seriously, here is what we really had in mind, Seth.
A frog? Seth asked.
Not just any frog, Doren said. Show him.
Newel tickled the frog's belly. Its air sac swelled up to the size of a cantaloupe, and the frog let out a tremendous belching sound. Seth laughed in surprised delight. The satyrs laughed with him. Newel tickled the frog again and the thunderous belching sound repeated. Doren was wiping away mirthful tears.
So what do you say? Newel asked.
Eight lousy batteries for one incredible frog, Doren said. I'd take it.
Seth folded his arms. The frog is pretty cool, but I'm not five years old. If it's between gold and a burping frog, I'll take the gold.
The satyrs frowned, clearly disappointed. Newel nodded200 at Doren, who slipped into the shed and returned holding abar of gold. He handed it to Seth.
Seth turned the bar over and over in his hands. It was about the size of a bar of hotel soap. An N was embossed on one side. Otherwise it was a plain, golden rectangle, a little heavier than it looked. Probably enough gold to be worth a lot of money.
This is more like it, Seth said happily, placing the gold inside his emergency kit. What does the 'N' stand for?