Chapter Five: Clean Sweep
Gertrude Thornberry was a mastermind at selling toys, but she possessed a famously prickly personality, especially when it came to money. Maddie knew that she had reduced every member of Sweetgum town council to tears on numerous fundraising occasions. Three years ago, Gertrude had pulled Thornberry’s advertising dollars from the Salamanders and made it known that she had no intention of supporting the team, which she referred to as, “a dumpster fire so big it can be seen from space.” She wouldn't even accept free passes to the games. Today Maddie was trying to change her mind, and it would not be easy.
Thornberry’s Toys, with its monkey mascot “Thorny" pedaling his red bicycle above the store’s entrance, was a beloved institution in Sweetgum. But Gertrude rubbed people the wrong way, and several times a year Thorny was kidnapped by pranksters and hidden away in less-than-savory places.
When Maddie visited Esme as a child, she fell under Thornberry's spell, too. She could spend hours at the homey store, scoping out the latest games and Barbie clothes, or test-driving shiny new bikes with fancy baskets and handlebar streamers. Now, as Maddie waited for Gertrude at the Grand Lunch, she hoped that her passion for Thornberry’s would shine and she’d win Gertude back to the Manders. If she could hook this big fish, others would follow, and Maddie needed that to happen. At present, her only new sponsor was Madame Mysteria, a psychic who kept predicting dire things for the team as a way of lowering her ad fees.
“I am not throwing away my shot!” Maddie sang to herself, trying to channel some inspiring Hamilton energy as she prepared for the presentation.
Gertrude arrived early with a distinct air of Let’s get this over with quickly. But Maddie was prepared. She had grilled Edna for information on Gertrude’s favorite dishes and had them waiting for her upon arrival. A fresh Waldorf salad. Edna's incomparable raspberry iced tea, and warm, fluffy dinner rolls with a dish of pimento cheese, because Gertrude preferred that over butter.
“Thanks so much for meeting with me, Ms. Thornberry. I know you’re in demand, and your time is valuable. But I have to tell you, this is a real thrill for me. I’ve been in love with your store since I was a kid visiting my Aunt Esme. It’s such a special place. A lot of indie shops have gone under, but you’re thriving. I’m not kidding, I idolize you, and I promise that no one would work harder to make Thornberry’s our premiere sponsor—”
Gertrude laughed. “Oh, Madison. You’re sweet. I remember you. Even as a child, you were mad about baseball. I remember you’d buy pack after pack of baseball cards, tearing through them to find your favorite players. Of course, I’ve known Esme for years. Sentimental memories won’t keep me in business, though. My dear girl, how on earth is it worth me sinking—and I do mean sinking—thousands of dollars into a losing ball club that has the worst ticket sales in all of the minor leagues? I get more exposure sponsoring the Sweetgum Peewee T-Ball team, and to be honest they have a lot more on the ball than Rory Lampkin and Monty Ortzelbean. I came here today as a courtesy. It’s clear you’re a little bulldog, and I respect that. But enough!” She waved a hand like she was shooing away a fly and took a sip of her tea, “The answer is no. If you don’t stop pestering me, I will not have good things to say about you to the Chamber of Commerce which will make it even harder for you to get sponsors. You have my sympathy. Your job’s impossible. Take my advice and get the hell out as soon as you can, This can't end well for you.”
Maddie made herself smile, but she felt like she had been punched in the face. She expected Gertrude to be tough, but this sounded apocalyptic. For once, Maddie’s boundless optimism faltered. Was this smart, successful businesswoman right? Maybe there were actual limits in the universe, and she was driving toward a brick wall at a hundred miles per hour.
“How’s your salad?” Maddie asked. Her cheeks hurt from the forced grin.
“Excellent. You did your homework. I’ll give you that. Much good it will do you.”
OK, Maddie thought. There’s a tiny bit of comfort. A small compliment from the marketing master of Sweetgum. It might be an opening. Maddie couldn’t give up. It wasn’t in her nature. She reached in her satchel and pulled out a bound sponsorship proposal.
“Ms. Thornberry, I’ll be straight with you. I’m not denying this is a big ask. But I have a solid business plan to increase ticket sales with original events that focus on the kids in this wonderful town—a place I care more about every day. And I can sell that like nobody’s business. This is an opportunity for you to help me bring this team back and make Sweetgum proud. Can you imagine if we did that together? The unbelievable joy you could bring here? That’s your business, isn’t it? Joy! You’re the best, and only the best will do. That’s why I’m determined to get you on board. All I ask is a few more minutes of your time to check this out.” She slapped down the plan with a hard thwack. “Come on! Take a peek, What could you lose?”
Gertrude sighed. “You are incorrigible." She adjusted her cat-eye glasses and leafed through Maddie’s document.
Maddie nibbled at her own chicken salad and fruit plate. She was too tense to eat. She wanted this so much, and she could already tell she was losing. She wracked her brain for some sort of Mad Men last-ditch ad campaign idea that would turn the tide in her favor.
“You’ve certainly put a lot of thought into this, and you have a mind for business, unlike that idiot Rory. Where did you go to school?”
“Thanks, Ms. Thornberry. Undergrad degree in Economics from the University of Wisconsin at Madison. And I have a Masters in Sports Administration from Northwestern."
Gertrude took off her glasses and wiped them on her napkin. She put them back on and leaned over, peering intently into Maddie’s eyes. “Uh huh. I suggest you leave town immediately. This is only going to stain your resume. Believe me, I’m doing you a favor."
Then fireworks went off in Maddie’s imagination. It was either brilliant or painfully misguided, she wasn’t sure which. But it was all she had left. “Thorny could become Sweetgum’s ‘Rally Monkey.’ That means premiere placement on the Jumbotron at every game. We’ll create an animated version of Thorny to entertain the kids. Have you ever been to an Anaheim Angels’ game? Their Rally Monkey is pure gold! Plush toys and T-shirts and people love it! And you know this team is going to need a lot of rally mojo. Hey, I could even throw in a security detail from our staff to keep the real Thorny from getting kidnapped!” Maddie held her breath and prayed to the baseball gods.
Gertrude smiled faintly. “Goodness, this has been an entertaining lunch. Thank you, Madison. You didn’t waste my time and I appreciate that. I have to admit you gave me pause just now. I’ve got grandkids in California. They’re crazy for the Rally Monkey. And it’s true that I’m sick and tired of rescuing Thorny from dive bars and adult bookstores. But…” She pushed the proposal back to Maddie. “I’m sorry. You don’t have a product, my dear. Not to put too fine a point on it, the Salamanders are shit. But I wish you the best. As a kindness to you, I won’t say anything negative about you to the Chamber. You deserve to make your pitch.”
“Fair enough.” Maddie lowered her eyes to hide her utter dejection. “I still love Thornberrys. I had Edna make lemon bars for dessert. I know you like them, so… I’ll have her pack up a dozen for you.”
“You don’t give up, do you?” Gertrude gathered her things.
Maddie watched and wondered how she found shoes and a purse that matched her pink lipstick exactly. Did she always wear a skirt and jacket suit in this humid weather? Probably. Gertrude was Old School, and it gave her an air of graceful authority.
“Never! Keep the proposal. You might have second thoughts.” Maddie waved at Edna to signal it was time for the lemon bars—to go.
“All right, Madison! But I hope you get out of Sweetgum before then.”
“No way. I’m on a mission.”
“How sad, dear. The Salamanders will break your heart, and I can’t help you.” Gertrude slid gracefully out of the booth. She thanked Edna for the lemon bars and went on her blithely soul-crushing way. Maddie buried her face in her hands and groaned.
“Hey there. Mind if I sit down for a minute?”
It was Carlton. Of course it was.
Maddie groaned louder in reply. She hoped he hadn’t been sitting behind her listening to the whole failed conversation. More fodder for the Manders Matter podcast. Perfect. She raised her head slightly. “Are you enjoying my humiliation?”
“No! Gertrude’s a ballbuster. Everyone knows it. Most people break down and sob. I’ve seen grown men and women fall apart in front of her.”
“Haven’t you heard? There’s no crying in baseball.”
“I have. But there’s always an exception to the rule. So what now?”
Maddie checked her watch. “I’ve got another five sponsorship meetings lined up through tonight. Ten more tomorrow. Something’s gotta give! Hey, I’ve got Madame Mysteria! I’m invited to a seance at her place tonight, by the way.”
“Sounds fun. Maybe we should go. I’m really sorry we got rained out of our Hot Dog Cannon practice last night. I was hoping—”
Maddie’s phone rang and she checked the caller ID.
“Sorry I have to take this,” she told Carlton. “But don’t … don’t go anywhere. OK?”
“I won’t.” He grinned and her heart lurched. It felt so good to be with him. He was lifting her mood. She couldn't deny it.
“Hello? Yes, this is her. Thanks for getting back to me. We’d love to have the World’s Largest Cotton Candy at our ballpark! Our town is named Sweetgum! How perfect is that? I will personally take charge of the whole promotion. We’re starting a kids club, and this would be a fantastic tie-in. I can offer you some excellent dates. The marquee matchups. What do you need from me?”
As she listened, Carlton mouthed the words “World’s Biggest Cotton Candy” at her with a bemused expression.
“Hush,” she mouthed back. “OK wait, wait, wait, I’m writing this down. Do you have a form you can text me or…? No, don’t hang up! I understand you don't feel comfortable with newfangled technology. Yeah, I agree you can’t be too careful about international spies.”
Carlton opened his eyes wide and covered his mouth to smother laughter.
“You need this tomorrow?” Maddie continued. “Do you accept Fedex or do you prefer Pony Express? Sorry! That was a joke. A bad joke. I’m terrible at jokes. But I’m great at promoting huge cotton candy. I’ll get you all this stuff by tomorrow. What’s your address?” She scribbled furiously, “Got it. Yes, I do appreciate what a rare opportunity this is. Thanks again! Bye.” She ended the call and reviewed her notes.
“Wow, so you’re talking to Willy Wonka now?” Carlton asked. “And apparently he’s worried about Slugworth stealing his ideas? Cool! What precisely do you have to do to get the world’s biggest cotton candy to Sweetgum? How do they even transport it?”
“Send a marketing plan, proof of insurance, a rain disaster emergency protocol, and a 500-word essay on why Sweetgum is the best place for this great historic event. Easy peasy.”
“By tomorrow?” Carlton shook his head. “What are you gonna do if it rains? That could be the world’s biggest mess. Wait. I think I know. You’re going to spend all night stitching together hundreds of rain ponchos and then design and build an automated retractable awning.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Maddie paused, enjoying the moment before she said, “I was going to ask you to do that. I have no idea how to design a two-story retractable awning.”
Carlton’s expression of horror and dismay was totally worth it.
“Kidding!” Maddie laughed. “You really do think I’d do that to you?”
“Let’s just say it’s not out of the realm of possibility. How do you insure a giant cotton candy? Is there some sort of Giant Food Policy?”
“I’ll figure it out. And I’ll ask Theo, the groundskeeper. There’s a tarp for the field when it rains, so there could be…”
“I’d buy a ticket to that conversation.”
“Hey! Stop raining on my cotton candy parade! Don't you want to see this thing? What color is it? Where did they get the huge paper stick to put it on? How do they keep it from falling apart? Do they spray it with a giant can of hairspray or what? I have so many questions. You have to admit it’s hilarious.”
“I admit it is likely to be more interesting than watching the game.”
“There you go. That’s a start. I’m for anything that brings some fun to the ballpark and gets kids in the door. Besides, this is FREE! There’s no fee if they choose you as a location on the tour.”
“God, I should hope not!”
The conversation was interrupted by a dour woman who struck Maddie as someone who might have taught Victorian girls deportment in another life.
“Madison Fields?” the woman asked.
“Call me Maddie. What can I do for you? Do you have an idea for the Sliding Salamanders? I’d love to hear it. Take a seat.” Maddie scooted over. “Can I get you some sweet tea?”
The woman remained standing and sniffed. “I don’t believe in sweet tea. Sugar is poison and I don’t put poison in my body.”
Maddie could see that this was going to be another difficult conversation. She caught Carlton sending her warning messages with his eyebrows, or at least that’s how she interpreted them. She wrinkled her eyebrows back at him trying to express that she could handle the situation. She wanted to laugh because it was really fun to have a conversation with Carlton using a secret eyebrow language that they were inventing. She wondered how long they could keep it up.
“Good for you!” Maddie said warmly. “I’m so glad you dropped by, Ms…?”
“Ernst. Rebecca Ernst.”
“Great to meet you! I want everyone to know my door is always open. The Salamanders belong to all of us. How about an unsweetened iced tea or some sparkling water?”
“No thank you. I prefer to stand. My idea is for a giveaway night. It’s called Clean Sweep.”
“Terrific! What's the giveaway?”
“Cleaning products.”
Carlton nearly did a spit take, and Maddie glared at him.
Mrs. Ernst didn’t appear to notice. “I’m tired of the free T-shirts and hats that are sponsored by some alcoholic beverage company, and children aren’t allowed to have them!”
Maddie cared about listening to people and making them feel heard and important. She didn’t want to be judgmental of any suggestion, but honestly, she was having a hard time keeping a straight face with this one.
“And you think children would like free samples of Pine Sol and Mr. Clean?” Maddie asked, avoiding Carlton’s latest eyebrow message.
“Why not? We need a wholesome promotion that encourages young people to tidy their rooms and help with chores. You could give out some door prizes. A few Dustbusters. Or a new vacuum. Mine’s on its last legs. That would be a big draw. By the way, we should sing ‘God Bless America’ at every game, not just on Sundays. And why can’t we add the Pledge of Allegiance after the national anthem? Do we always have to sing ‘Take Me Out To the Ballgame?’ What if we had some local choirs sing a hymn on the field once in a while?”
“Yeah, the Manders need all the divine intervention they can get,” Carlton said wryly
“There you see! The people want this!” Mrs. Ernst favored Carlton with a toothy smile. “Are you writing this down?”
“Oh. I will… Yes!” Maddie pulled out a composition notebook and a Sharpie pen and made detailed notes of Mrs. Ernst and her ideas. “Do you have any leads on getting cleaning product donations?”
“Isn’t that what you get paid for?” Mrs. Ernst turned away from the table and shouted at a tall, skinny boy bent over the counter reading a book like his life depended on it. “Samuel! We’re going!”
The boy got up and headed for Maddie’s table. “Did you mention my band to her?”
Maddie perked up. “You have a band? That’s excellent! I’m looking for local musicians for the national anthem and maybe some other things. What kind of music do you play?”
“Mostly rock and roll. Some R and B.”
“It’s Christian rock,” Mrs. Ernst interrupted
Maddie’s heart went out to Samuel who had that classic “embarrassed by parent” look, but to his credit, was trying hard not to show it.
“We could host a local ‘battle of bands’ one weekend at the ballpark!” Maddie suggested. “That could be so fun!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Maddie could see that Carlton did not think that would be “so fun” or even close. She checked out what book Samuel had been engrossed in at the counter and smiled to see it was The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien. She read the book for the first time when she was about his age and had vivid memories of not being able to put it down one Thanksgiving when she kept sneaking away to the bathroom to read a few more pages between dinner courses.
“Are you a Tolkien fan?” Maddie asked. “I'm a total Lord of the Rings geek. I re-read it every fall. It has one of literature’s best ‘Sam’ characters.”
Samuel nodded. “Yeah. I haven’t read it before. But it’s really good.”
“Favorite part so far?”
“Gandalf and the Balrog in Moria. I had to stop reading for a few days to recover. I convinced the group we should call our band ‘Rivendell.’ They thought it was pretty cool, but I don’t think they know it has to do with elves.”
“Well, I’d love to hear Rivendell. I’m with you. I was devastated for a week after the Balrog. So Sam… Here’s my card. Send me a demo of your music if you can and let’s talk.”
“Sure! Thanks a lot, Ms. Fields!” He took the card and Maddie observed the first clue that Mrs. Ernst had feelings beyond her religious agenda.
She patted her son’s arm and whispered, “Good job!” as they left the cafe.
Maddie decided she should do Mrs. Ernst’s event idea. Or something like it. She liked the name Clean Sweep. It might work with a few tweaks. Or it might fail, but so what? Sometimes it was just nice to do something for someone else. Clearly Mrs. Ernst needed a new vacuum.
Once the Ernsts had gone, Carlton reached over Maddie’s notebook. His hand touched hers. She didn’t move. She wanted the touch to linger.
“Total Lord of the Rings geek? That’s new information,”
“Go ahead, make fun. Sylvia Plath loved it, too, you know. She wrote in her journal that seeing the books on someone’s bookshelf always made her happy.”
“Nice. I didn’t know that. But I was just going to say… Elen sila lumenn omenitelvo.”
Maddie was speechless for a few seconds. That was not what she expected.
“A star shines on the hour of our meeting. In High-Elvish. You, too?” she asked.
“I bet I could challenge Stephen Colbert in Tolkien trivia. I’m fluent in Quenya and Sindarin.”
This was beyond ridiculous. It was her teenage dream come true. How many other freaking ways could Carlton Wilde make himself attractive to her? It was starting to feel cruel.
“Well, that’s awesome,” she said softly. “The languages in the books are so beautiful."
Carlton squeezed her hand. “They are.”
A silence settled between them. Carlton’s eyes flicked up to Maddie’s. “Listen. We have some unfinished business that I think we should discuss.”
A weird combination of terror and excitement stabbed at Maddie’s chest. “It was years ago… Everything’s different now. With you and me. I don’t know. Maybe there’s no need—”
“Yes there is. We need to talk about what happened that day at Wrigley Field. And you need to go to the annual horror fest at the Stargazer Drive-In this Saturday night. There’s no ball game. The whole town goes. It’s a Karloff double feature. Bride of Frankenstein and The Invisible Ray. If you want to be a true part of Sweetgum, you should be there. I could take you. Help you make some new contacts. And we could also discuss that other thing.”
“But isn’t that a conflict of interest going with you? A member of the media? No, I can’t. It’s unprofessional.” Maddie wanted to say YES! with every cell in her body, but her head was spinning too fast to make a clear judgement. It couldn’t hurt to go with Carlton, could it? Yes, it could. It could hurt a lot. It could be the worst thing ever if it went wrong.
“OK. I’ll go. Thank you.” What’s the matter with me? she thought helplessly. I just know I’m going to regret this. Damn it!
“Good. I’ll pick you up at 8. You’re at Esme’s?
“The carriage house, yeah.”
“Great.”
Just then Tillie stormed into the cafe and stomped over to Maddie’s table. She threw her briefcase on the table. “I suck at this job!” she declared and collapsed in the booth next to Maddie. “Not a single new sponsor.”
“Cold calls are the hardest,” Maddie said sympathetically. “Give yourself a break. You should’ve seen how I crashed and burned with Gertrude Thornberry. It happens. I think we deserve one of Edna’s chocolate malts.” She waved at Edna and ordered the drink with two straws.
“I should get back to work,” said Carlton. “It’s been a pleasure, Ms. Fields and Ms. Pinkney. Keep up the good fight.” He started to leave, then turned and looked over his shoulder at Maddie. “I’ll see you Saturday night.”
Tillie gripped Maddie’s arm. “Did you see that smoldering look he just gave you? Over the shoulder? Wow! That was hot. I mean hot hot! And now you’re going on a date? What just happened?”
“We’re not! We’re just going to the drive-in on Saturday."
“How is that not a date? OK, now I have to find a date so I can spy on you.” Tillie flashed a grin that Maddie envied. It was just a tiny bit “Cruella.” That must be quite useful at times.
Maddie swatted her notebook in Tillie’s direction. “Don’t you dare!”
“I’m totally going.”
“No! You are not. That’s an order. I’m your boss.”
“This is after hours. You have no jurisdiction over me. What time is he picking you up? What are you wearing? Not another ratty T-shirt for the Chugwater Chinchillas! Can I do your hair? Pleeease let me do your hair! You need me. You know it’s true.”
Edna brought over the malt in a frosted glass with two red and white striped paper straws. “You should let her do your hair, Maddie,” she advised.
“Stop. This is a business outing! Mostly. He’s helping me make new contacts.”
Tillie and Edna burst into giggles and repeated “new contacts” in various suggestive ways. Maddie was getting more nervous by the minute. No matter what the official definition of this event was, she was going to be alone with Carlton, and they were finally going to talk about Chicago. It was making her sweat already. She dunked her napkin in her ice water and blotted her forehead. How was she going to make it through another devastating round of sponsorship pitches? Her mind was in a very different and truly disorienting dimension.
RELATED ART
More things we wish existed! (Art: AI-generated image from Rob Mitchell)
CASTING CALL: THE ACTORS IN OUR IDEAL WILDE PITCH CAST
Glenn Close as Gertrude Thornberry
Rebecca Ernst is definitely not a dig at Joni Ernst, the Senator from Iowa. Rebecca is slightly more tolerable.
INSPIRATION
Thornberry’s Toys is a tribute to a much-loved store in St. Matthews, Kentucky that closed in the early 1990s.
“Thorny” – the biking mascot monkey atop Thornbury’s – was actually kidnapped many times.
The Rally Monkey is the unofficial mascot of the Anaheim Angels and appears on the video board when the team is trailing or tied in late innings to encourage a comeback.
This tradition was born on June 6, 2000. The Angels trailed the San Francisco Giants 5-4 in the bottom of the ninth inning. Two scoreboard video operators, Dean Fraulino and Jaysen Humes, decided to play a clip of a bouncing capuchin monkey from Ace Ventura: Pet Detective. They superimposed the flashing words “RALLY MONKEY” over the screen. The crowd erupted, and the Angels rallied to win the game 6-5.
But the Rally Monkey became an international phenomenon during the 2002 World Series. That year, the Angels had 18 late-game comeback victories. The most famous moment was during Game 6 of the World Series. Trailing the Giants 5-0 in the 7th inning and facing elimination, the Rally Monkey made his appearance. The Angels launched a massive comeback. They won Game 6, and went on to claim the World Series title in Game 7.
Photo of Mrs. Davis
Pimento Cheese Recipe (Gertrude’s Favorite)
Courtesy of Irene Davis, longtime friend and neighbor of Darlene Younkin, mom of Wilde Pitch co-author Laura.
Pimento Cheese
8 oz shredded sharp cheddar cheese
8 oz. cream cheese
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1/2 cup pimentos
1/8 teaspoon salt
hot sauce to taste
