Bowling brought joy and spirit to Bigfork women

In the previous installment, Mom and five other Bigfork women had joined a new Bowling League, and gathered together for the first day at Kegler’s bowling alley in Kalispell.

The man from behind the shoe counter walked out on one of the lanes. 

"Please, sit down ladies, and we can begin." He demonstrated the proper way to hold the ball, then how to walk and throw the ball down the lane.  He talked about how to aim for a strike and for different spare configurations. It was all so fascinating, that what I had only watched on TV could also be done right here!

Mom and I already knew a lot about scoring, from the TV, but Mom listened intently anyway.  And then it was time for the games to begin.  I watched from the gallery, hearing the balls slam against the pins, or trickle down the gutter. Every once in a while someone would loft the ball, crashing loudly when it hit the lane.  

"Ouch! ladies; don't loft the ball!" the instructor shouted.

Every time one of them got a strike, all jumped up and cheered.  And when there was a split to be gotten, there was total silence as everyone held her breath.  And then the "Awwww, shucks," when part of the split remained standing.

They were all so happy, glowing in fact. It had been a long time since I'd seen Mom so full of joy. I was a bit jealous, but happy for her, too.

"What do you say, ladies; I think we've all earned a drink!" Mom said. She took their orders and headed for the bar. "I'll get a root beer for you, toots," she said as she walked past me. 

I glowered; I hated that name.  But then I smiled and said "Thank you," when she handed me my root beer before proceeding down the few steps to the "bowlers only" area, with all the drinks on a tray.

They played two more games, each with even more spirit, boosted by the mixed drinks and their replacements.  Afterwards, we all went into the snack room and had a bit of lunch before everyone else left.  Mom and I went back into the alley.  

"Help me find a better ball, Sugar.  That one I was using has made my thumb hurt."

She tried out many balls, none of them felt 'just right,' until I handed her a pretty marbled blue ball. Blue was her favorite color. "Look how pretty this one is, Mamma."

"Oh, yes, Sugar. Let me try that one."  She put her thumb and fingers into the holes and swung the ball around a bit.  "This feels pretty good. I'll try it on the lane."

"Can I keep score, Mamma?"  I'd tried to learn addition and subtraction using the flash-cards Miss Reep had made for us, but usually resorted to counting it out on my fingers because it was faster. This would be a good way to practice doing it right.

"OK, Sugar," she called just before walking toward the lane in that particular dance step that bowlers make as they swing the ball to create momentum, then slide to toward the line while releasing the ball.  "Stee-rike!" she called, jubilantly.

I marked the X in the first space while Mom waited for her ball to return.

The next one was a spare, and I marked the slash, then totaled the score so far.  Mom came to see if I was doing it right. "Very good, Sugar.  Maybe I'll let you be my scorekeeper next time."

I beamed. 

"I'm gonna like this Ladies Bowling League," I thought to myself as Mom and I walked back out into the sun after turning in her shoes and making note of which ball was 'hers' from now on.  The blue marbled ball.