…you got to look for the sunny side…getting your toe stepped on ain’t no bargain but it beats hell out of getting kicked in the groin…
Monroe D. Underwood
Suicide Lewisite sat in gloomy silence.
I said so what’s on your mind?
I said you didn’t come all the way from Radish River just to step on my toe.
Suicide Lewisite said no I’m here to hire you to investigate the Radish River Possumcats.
He said we’ll pretend you’re some kind of sports reporter and by associating with my players you may be able to find out what the trouble is.
I said I already know what the trouble is.
I said you got no offense.
I said you also got no defense.
Suicide Lewisite said yes but there must be a reason for this.
He said if it’s dissension I got to know about it.
He said this team isn’t as bad as it looks and right now I’m angling for the one player who could turn it all around.
He said if I get him we still got a shot at the bacon and I may not commit suicide as soon as expected.
I said if he’s that good why isn’t he in the National Football League?
Suicide Lewisite said well I understand that he’s just a bit on the eccentric side.
He said can you be in Radish River by Saturday?
I said hell I can be in New Zealand by Saturday.
I said I get seventy-five a day.
Suicide Lewisite shook his head.
He said no you don’t.
I said who says I don’t?
Suicide Lewisite said the new owner of the Possumcats says you don’t.
He said the new owner says you get two hundred a day.
He said the new owner seems to think you’re worth it.
He said you see this is all the new owner’s idea.
He said except the part where I stepped on your toe.
I said who’s the new owner?
Suicide Lewisite said some real nice old lady by the name of Hepzibah Dodd.
6
…money will buy anything that ain’t important and a few things that is…beer for one…
Monroe D. Underwood
It was three ayem.
I sat at the dinette table with Betsy.
Betsy was tight-lipped and her big pale-blue eyes sparkled with fury.
And tears.
She refilled our coffee cups and held a trembling match for our cigarettes.
She said well it was certainly nice while it lasted.
She said we damn near got back on a first-name basis.
She said isn’t that right Joseph?
I shrugged.
I said anything you say Mary.
Betsy said I’m beginning to feel like a goddam orphan.
I said Betsy we need money.
I said the seventy-five I made today was the first buck I’ve earned since June.
Betsy said well where the hell’s the pressure?
She said we still have four thousand in the bank.
I said four grand won’t get us around the corner.
Betsy said look why don’t I just go to work and put us on easy street?
She said I can be back in business in a week.
She said I’ll do it if you’ll just stay home and work jigsaw puzzles.
There was a very long silence.
Betsy said Chance I’m sorry about that.
I said Betsy you ought to be.
Betsy said please forget I said it.
I said forget you said what?
Betsy said how long will you be gone this time?
I shrugged.
I said just long enough to locate the trouble with this Radish River football team.
Betsy said that doesn’t tell me much.
I said it tells you all I’m able to tell you.
Betsy said I don’t understand.
She said a professional football coach drives clear across the state and hires a private detective to find out why his team isn’t winning.
She said it simply doesn’t rhyme.
She said especially where you’re concerned.
She said you don’t know a football from a watermelon.
I said the hell I don’t.
I said footballs ain’t green and watermelons don’t got laces.
I said any more coffee?
Betsy poured half-cups.
She was calming down.
I fished another flattened-out Camel from my bathrobe pocket and got it in operation.
Betsy said there’s something screwy about this case.
I said Betsy I’ve never worked a case that wasn’t screwy.
Betsy said well my God Chance look where you’ve been recently.
She said Stranger City and Waupuwukee Downs.
She said look where you’re going.
She said Radish River.
She said screwy places screwy cases.
I shrugged.
I said well Betsy I got to make a living.
Betsy said sweetheart let’s not fight.
She said you look so tired tonight.
She said did you have a rough day?
I shrugged.
I said well the morning was slow but the afternoon wore me out.
7
…of all the lies that man has lied
The worst is, “God is on our side.”…
Monroe D. Underwood
The morning bus to Radish River was crowded and smoky.
It lurched southward on narrow roads winding through the circus hues of young autumn.
We made numerous crossroads stops.
Eventually we picked up a sedate sandy-haired bespectacled gentleman who carried an enormous white-leather Bible.
It had gilt-edged pages and a gold cross on its front.
He paid his fare and looked for a seat.
He had two choices.
Next to a fat woman who had launched an audible all-out attack on a huge red apple.
Or next to me.
He sat next to me.
A mile out of Radish River he said hallelujah!
I didn’t say anything.
That stopped him stone cold.
For about ten seconds.
He looked me over.
He said brother have you been washed in the blood?
I shrugged.
I said not really.
I said this suit always looks that way.
There was a half-mile pause.
He said are you going to the game tonight?
I said what game?
He said oh Heavenly Father what do you mean what game?
I said what do you mean oh Heavenly Father what do I mean what game?
I said I’m from Chicago.
He said I refer of course to tonight’s football contest between Radish River and Cranberry Creek.
I shrugged.
I said well from what I hear Radish River doesn’t have much to holler about.
He said it’s the coaching.
He said Suicide Lewisite couldn’t coach cows to eat corn.
His hands had begun to tremble slightly.
His eyes had grown hot.
His voice shook.
He raised a bony forefinger.
He said but God is on our side!
He said triumph will be ours in the final accounting!
He said we will shred their unholy carcasses!
He said we shall savor the sweet fruits of victory!
He hauled out a handkerchief and wiped perspiration from his brow.
He was twitching.
He said in Radish River we take our football very seriously.
8
…if a joke ain’t cruel it ain’t no joke…
Monroe D. Underwood
The bus paused at a traffic signal on the shady outskirts of Radish River.
To my right was a vacant lot and a huge sign.
In big black block lettering it read GO YOU RADISH RIVE
R POSSUMCATS KICK THEIR GODDAM TEETH OUT GO GO GO TEAR THEIR BALLS OFF KILL KILL KILL THREE CHEERS FOR RADISH RIVER POSSUMCATS HIP HIP HOORAY HIP HIP HOORAY.
RADISH RIVER CHAMBER OF COMMERCE
I got off the bus in front of the Radish River Drug Store.
A stocky well-dressed graying man of fifty or so was waiting for me.
He said Mr. Chance Purdue?
I nodded.
The stocky guy shook my hand.
He said I’m Mayor Bradford Boone.
I said congratulations on your election.
Mayor Boone said that was three years ago.
I said better late than never.
Mayor Boone grabbed my suitcase and escorted me to a black Mercedes-Benz parked across the street.
He said I’m to drive you to the residence of the new owner of the Radish River Possumcats.
He said Hepzibah Dodd will be putting you up during your stay with us.
He said she’s a sweet little old lady.
He said I don’t really believe you’ll be in serious danger of sexual attack.
He laughed wildly.
I didn’t.
Mayor Boone cleared his throat.
He said yes well apparently that will take care of the humor department for this afternoon.
He said we’ve really taken old Hepzibah Dodd to our hearts here in Radish River.
He said of course she has no choice but to get rid of Suicide Lewisite.
He said Suicide Lewisite couldn’t coach cats to eat canaries.
I shrugged.
I said maybe he just doesn’t have the material.
Mayor Boone said well I suppose he’s trying.
He said I understand he’s been dickering for the services of a super-star named Zanzibar McStrangle.
He said they say McStrangle can really turn a football game around.
I said the name doesn’t ring a bell.
I said what college?
Mayor Boone said I’m not certain but I believe I’ve heard mention of a Barnum-Bailey.
I shrugged.
I said probably one of those small southern schools.
Mayor Boone said Mr. Purdue I’m told that you’re a sportswriter.
I nodded.
I said well.
Mayor Boone said I want you to know that favorable comment concerning the Possumcats will be greatly appreciated.
I nodded.
Again.
I said well.
Again.
Mayor Boone said in Radish River we take our football very seriously.
I said I’m beginning to get that impression.
I said I write for a quarterly sports review so my article won’t appear until late December.
Mayor Boone said what’s the name of the quarterly sports review?
I said Quarterly Sports Review.
Mayor Boone said oh yes the Quarterly Sports Review.
A white Cadillac covered with hundreds of brightly colored streamers pulled away from the curb to lead us past a large red brick building where people threw confetti and hollered and waved.
I smiled and waved back.
I said Mayor Boone I appreciate the welcome but you shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.
Mayor Boone said Mr. Purdue we seem to have become entangled in a wedding procession.
9
…from A to Z ain’t bad…it’s the getting back that tires you out…
Monroe D. Underwood
Mayor Bradford Boone wheeled his Mercedes-Benz to the curb in front of an ancient gray frame house.
He said Hepzibah Dodd bought this place last week.
He said the same way she bought the Possumcats.
He said cash on the barrelhead.
I said is she at home now?
Mayor Boone said yes I left her just a few minutes ago.
He said she was reading An Inquiry Into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations.
He said by Adam Smith.
He said it’s difficult to imagine that saintly old lady having such a wide range of interests.
He said A to Z.
He said economics to football.
I shrugged.
I said that’s only E to F.
I opened the door and got out.
I said well Mayor thanks for the lift.
Mayor Boone said anything to help the Possumcats.
He said anything.
His face was suddenly red.
He said any goddam thing at all.
His knuckles had turned white on the steering wheel.
He said we’re gonna tear the opposition limb from gut!
Tears welled in his eyes.
He said we’re gonna throw their bloody bones to the dogs!
I said Mayor Boone I can hear you from here just fine.
Mayor Boone lowered his voice.
He cleared his throat.
He wiped tiny flecks of spittle from his chin.
He said in Radish River we take our football very seriously.
I said yes I believe you mentioned that.
I picked up my suitcase and went up the walk to the old gray house.
10
…most of us starts out and ends up in bedrooms…
Monroe D. Underwood
I knocked.
The door opened.
Silently.
I stepped into a hallway.
I dropped my suitcase and waited for my eyes to adjust to the sudden dimness.
The door swung closed.
Just as silently.
I detected the faint scent of lilac.
Brandy Alexander stood to my right.
She wore form-fitting black satin pajamas and black patent leather spike heels.
She slipped into my arms.
Her lilac perfume wafted over me.
I held her close and buried my face in her thick dark wavy hair.
I ran a hand up and down her back.
Further down than up.
Brandy looked at me.
Her liquid brown eyes were wide.
Her perfect nostrils were flared.
Her voice was soft and husky-sweet.
She said oh Jesus Jonah and Judas Iscariot!
I said you took the words right out of my mouth.
Brandy glued her lips to mine.
After a while she said hi Purdue.
Dreamily.
I shrugged.
I said Brandy you win.
I said where the hell’s the bedroom?
Brandy stepped back.
She smiled and shook her head.
She said not now Purdue please.
She said we’ll make love after the football game.
I said my God Brandy it’ll be six hours before the football game starts.
Brandy said yes and that’s just the point.
She said I don’t want you leaving for a football game when we’re only half through.
11
…the Chicago Cubs made a sports reporter their general manager…one look at the record will show you how much sports reporters knows about sports…
Monroe D. Underwood
The Radish River Possumcats played their home games at the Radish River High School stadium.
The Radish River High School was in the process of collapsing from old age but the stadium was new and sparkling.
It had a seating capacity of approximately fifteen thousand.
There was a glossy macadam track that circled the emerald-green football field.
The vast banks of floodlights would have done credit to any major league park in the country.
There was an ultramodern scoreboard some four stories tall.
It was rigged to fire aerial bombs in celebration of Radish River scores.
If any.
On my way to the locker room I passed a giant sign that read DEATH TO THE INVADERS SHOW NO MERCY SLAUGHTER THE DIRTY NO-GOOD BASTARDS THREE CHEERS FOR RADISH RIVER POSSUMCATS HIP HIP HOORAY HIP HIP HOORAY HIP
HIP HOORAY HIP HIP HOORAY.
RADISH RIVER CHAMBER OF COMMERCE
Suicide Lewisite greeted me with a firm handshake.
He introduced me to the team as a reporter for a national sports publication.
One of the players said what’s the name of the national sports publication?
I said National Sports Publication.
The player said oh yeah the National Sports Publication.
The team chaplain’s name was Reverend H.F. Brimstone.
Reverend H.F. Brimstone was a tall emaciated man with glaring gray eyes.
He stepped forward to offer the pregame prayer.
He raised his hands.
He said every head bowed and every eye closed please.
In a solemn stentorian voice Reverend H.F. Brimstone said oh Lord of Hosts who delivered Daniel from the lions’ den and Shadrach from the fiery furnace not to mention Meshach and Abednego we ask now for Thy greatest miracle which would prevent these Radish River Possumcats from blowing this one by more than forty-nine points repeat Lord forty-nine points.
He said Blessed Redeemer in Thy boundless mercy see to it that only the minimum be maimed for life and we plead for the souls of those who will most certainly die in the coming hours of black defeat and we pray for the bereaved parents who shall have snatched from them this night their sons and whose doors on the bleak morrow of despair will bear wreaths of sorrow yea sweeten their bitter cups Lord and with these humble requests we send our gallant youngsters forth to be massacred on the gory field of combat Amen.
When every head was raised and every eye was opened it developed that half the Radish River football team was missing.
It also developed that the remaining half refused to take the field.
Suicide Lewisite was on the verge of tears until the locker room telephone rang.
He answered it and broke into a beaming smile.
He crashed the phone back into its cradle.
He said all right fellas let’s get the hell out there!
He said Zanzibar McStrangle is on the sidelines waiting to play for good old Radish River!
The Possumcats gave a lusty cheer and charged through the door into the night.
Suicide Lewisite looked at me.
He said you have just heard Reverend H.F. Brimstone’s very last prayer for the Radish River Possumcats.
He banged his locker door shut with a vengeance.
The Radish River Caper Page 2