Lysistrata

by Flora, Fletcher

  Anyhow, to make it short, we went through the tournament like a dose of salts and were regional champions as well as league champions, and I was voted most valuable player by the God-damn coaches, and that didn’t leave anything but the state tournament, where all the regional champions played each other, to wind it up. The school had a big outdoor rally to send us off, and they had these crazy God-damn snake dances through the streets and a hell of a big bonfire on a vacant lot uptown, and old Mulloy made a stinking speech about how wonderful it was to have such support and how no team can get anywhere without everyone behind them and urging them on to victory, and it wound up with an old wooden building catching on fire, and it looked for a while like they were going to burn down the whole God-damn town.

  After a while I got tired of it and looked around for old Bugs to walk home with, but I couldn’t find him, and then I decided I’d walk around to Dummke’s and get a package of cigarettes before I went, because we were leaving on the bus the next morning for the town where the tournament was going to be played — you probably remember it was a town called Stockton — and I figured I might not have a chance to buy any afterward. When I got to Dummke’s, it was someone besides Gravy behind the counter, and he gave me the gaspers without any lip, and the two cents change from the two-bits I gave him, and I was on my way out the door when Gravy came out of the back room and said, “Hey, kid, what’s the hurry?”

  That struck me as pretty God-damn fishy right away, because always before I couldn’t be in a big enough hurry to suit him, but I just stopped and looked at him and said, “Who the hell’s in a hurry? I got my God-damn cigarettes, and I’m leaving, that’s all,” and he showed all these stinking white teeth all over his greasy face and said, “Don’t be like that, kid,” and I said, “Like what?” and he said, “Always with a Goddamn chip on your shoulder. Why in hell don’t you relax once in a while? How’d you like a coke on the house?”

  If I’d had any doubt about him being up to something, I sure as hell didn’t have any after I heard him say that, because any time Gravy Dummke gave anything away, even a lousy coke, you could be damn sure he was looking at it as an investment of some kind, but to tell the truth, I was curious to know what it was he had on his crummy mind, and besides, I didn’t have any objection to the coke, either.

  “Well, thanks all to hell,” I said. “A whole God-damn nickel coke? You sure you can afford it?”

  His fat face smoothed out the way it did when he was about to flip his lid, and his little eyes got mean for a second, but then he found his teeth again and shrugged and said, “Always kidding. Damned if you ain’t the greatest God-damn kid for a joke I ever saw,” and I went back, and he got a bottle of coke out of this crummy cooler he had at the end of the counter and took the cap off and handed it to me. I lit a cigarette and started drinking the coke, and he said, “Ain’t it against the rules for guys on the basketball team to smoke?” and I said, “Screw the rules. Besides, what the hell business is it of yours?”

  “None,” he said, “but I’d hate to see the star of the team kicked off the night before the state tournament started,” and I said, “That’s a laugh. That God-damn Mulloy wouldn’t kick you off for murder if he thought it might make him lose a game,” and he laughed and said, “Well, you’re safe, then, because I guess they wouldn’t have much chance without you,” and I said they sure as hell wouldn’t, and he said, “That leaves you in a pretty good position, kid, you know that?” and I said, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” and he said, “Why don’t you come on in the back room and talk it over. I hate to see a smart kid not taking advantage of his opportunities,” and to tell the truth, I thought it was just some of Gravy’s nonsense, but then I thought it wouldn’t cost me anything to listen at least, so I went.

  The back room was a crummy dump a little bigger than an outdoor privy with a dirty window looking out on the alley and a few tables and chairs scattered around where the Goddamn penny-ante bastards that hung around Gravy’s could play pinochle and poker and different card games, and there was no one there but Gravy and me. He told me to take a load off my feet, which I did, and he sat down in another chair across the table from where I sat, and he asked me if I wanted another lousy coke, and I said I didn’t, and he said, “Jesus, kid, you’re really getting to be somebody. Every time I look at a God-damn sports page there’s your name or picture or something, and to tell the truth, I never dreamed all the time you been coming in here for cigarettes that you’d be such a big shot basketball player.”

  I hadn’t dreamed it myself, as a matter of fact, but I wasn’t telling him that, so I said, “You can just skip the crap, Gravy. You didn’t ask me to come back here just so you could pin a medal on me,” and he laughed again and said, “You’re a pretty smart kid. That’s one thing I always knew, even if I didn’t know you were going to be a big star and everything, because I can smell a smart kid a mile away,” and I said, “So I’m a Goddamn marvel or something,” and he said, “Not quite. Not yet, anyhow. Even a smart kid’s got to learn the ropes. For instance, I bet you don’t know just how big this basketball thing can be. A lot of money changes hands on basketball games, kid, even high school games,” and I said, “Well, if you’ve been riding our God-damn team, you ought to have a potful,” and he looked at me for quite a while with his face smooth and his nasty little eyes half asleep, and then he said, “Oh, I’ve been gettingmyshare. Have you been getting yours?”

  I thought about how everything had changed after I’d started playing the God-damn crazy game, about Marsha and going places I’d never gone before and everyone thinking I was a regular ring-tailed wonder, and I said, “I’ve been doing all right,” and he said, “Oh, sure, a few stinking kids setting you up to cokes and hamburgers and a few girls flipping their tails in your face because they think you’re a lousy hero, but I’m talking about the long green, kid, the folding stuff, the stuff that counts. How much of that you been getting?”

  I said, “You know damn well they don’t pay you anything for playing basketball at school,” and he said, “Sure, I know it, but that wouldn’t keep a smart kid from taking care of himself,” and I said, “You give me a pain in the ass, if you want to know it, because you’re always acting like a big shot and blowing about all the lousy money you got, but as far as I can see you’re just a small town jerk running a cigar store, and I never saw you with more than a fin in your hand in my life.”

  I stood up then and was going to get the hell out of there, but he dug down in his stinking pocket and pulled out a wad of bills that would’ve choked a mule, and he peeled off five of them and laid them on the table, and they were all tens, and I stood there looking at them.

  “What’s that for?” I said, and he said, “It could be for you, and maybe another hundred later,” and I said, “What’s the angle?” and he said, “You want to sit down and listen, I’ll tell you. No charge for listening,” and I figured there wasn’t, so I sat down.

  He got out a cigarette and lit it and rolled it around in his stinking fat lips until it was soaked about half an inch down with his nasty slobber, and all the time he kept looking at me through the smoke like he’d probably seen some big shot do in the movies or something, and pretty soon he said, “That team of yours could go all the way in this state tournament,” and I said it sure as hell could, and he looked at me some more and said, “As long as you’re playing, that is,” and I said that was sure as hell right and I was sure as hell going to be playing.

  He laughed and threw his cigarette into a can half full of water on the floor, and the cigarette went out with a little hiss. “Well,” he said, “that’s up to you, and probably you’ll get fifteen rahs and a couple of cokes for your effort, but I was thinking if you played all the games but the last one you might make a good thing of it,” and I said, “How good?” and he said, “Like I mentioned, this fifty now and a hundred later,” and I said, “That’s all right, but I don’t like the idea of looking like a God-damn monkey by g
etting beat in the finals. I got my reputation to think of,” and he said, “You’re a smart kid with brains, so why the hell don’t you use them? You won’t look like any monkey, but just the opposite, because you’ll get sick and not be able to play at all, and everyone will say just see what happens when old Scaggs isn’t in there. The first game old Scaggs doesn’t play, the God-damn crummy team loses,” and when I came to think of it, I knew it was true and that’s just what everyone would think.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It’ll look pretty fishy, me getting sick that way at the last minute,” and he said, “Hell, kid, everyone’s got the right to get sick. It would be too big a chance to have you throw it on the floor, because, besides hurting your reputation, you’re too God-damn green to get away with it without making it stink to the rafters. Remember, though, you’d have to get sick right at the last minute, in the locker room or something, because otherwise the news would get out and change the odds, and if you lose before the finals the whole thing’s off, but you can keep the fifty for your trouble.”

  I sat there and thought about it, and it sounded pretty good, not only the one-fifty but the idea of everyone saying that stuff about see what happens when old Scaggs isn’t in there, and I got a bang just thinking about old Mulloy tearing out what little hair he had left and beating his God-damn chest, the son of a bitch, and it was almost as good as poking him in the mouth. After a while I stood up and took the five tens off the table and put them in my pocket, and it was the most money I’d ever had at one time, and you could see it was just like pulling five of Gravy’s God-damn back teeth, and he said sort of slow, “Remember, kid. Don’t try any tricks. I got ways of handling, smart bastards who try to cross me,” and I said, “You just have the God-damn hundred ready, that’s all, and don’t bother trying to scare me with any crummy threats because in my opinion you’re just a fat slob with a big mouth.”

  I went home then and put the fifty in my shoe and went to bed, and I thought that the returns from this basketball stuff were sure picking up and that it was a God-damn shame it was so close to being all over, and that was the first time I really began to wonder if there wasn’t some way I could go on with it.

  The next morning I got up and got ready to go to Stockton for the tournament, and when I went out in the kitchen for breakfast, the old man was sitting at the table and the old lady was frying his egg at the stove. The old man stood up and bowed like he’d met a God-damn king or something, and he said in this snotty voice, “Well, well, if the God-damn hero ain’t honoring us with his presence. It’s damn generous of you to come out and sit down with common folks,” and I said, “Ha, ha, you kill me. You’re about as funny as a lousy crutch,” and he said, “What with being a God-damn hero and having your name and picture in the paper and running around with a bank president’s daughter, I don’t suppose you’ll be having much of anything more to do with your old man and your old lady,” and I said, “What the hell’s the matter with you? What the hell you want to start this bull first thing in the morning for?” and the old lady spoke up at the stove and said, “Just the same, I notice you haven’t brought your fine girl friend around to see your old folks,” and I said, “You think I’ve lost my marbles or something? Why the hell would I want to louse everything up by bringing her to this lousy dump with you and the old man raising hell all over the place?”

  The old man said, “Well, maybe we ain’t good enough for you any more, but I notice you’re around regular enough when your God-damn belly’s empty,” and I said, “As far as I’m concerned you can take your God-damn slop and feed it to the hogs,” and then he started around the table after me, so I got the hell out of there and walked uptown and had breakfast at a diner, using one of the tens I’d got from Gravy Dummke to pay for it, and when I got to the school, the bus was parked out front with a big crowd around it and the band playing, and there was a hell of a big banner fastened on the bus that said, ALL THE WAY, FELLOWS, just like it had been saying in the paper.

  Well, when I walked up there was a big God-damn cheer and everyone started yelling, “Scaggs, Scaggs, Scaggs!” and there was a guy with a camera there from the paper, and he took my picture, and Marsha was there, too, and she wanted to get in the act just like these damn girls always do, which was all right with me, and she put her arms around me and gave me this big kiss that must have lasted a whole damn minute at least, and damned if the guy from the paper didn’t take a picture of that, too, and it came out in the paper that evening with some big black printing under it that said, A WARRIOR’S FAREWELL. I got on the bus then, and everyone razzed me about the kiss and said pukey things like, “Oh, you dog!” and “How do you do it, Casanova?” whoever the hell he was, which I got the idea he must have been hell with the women, and old Mulloy pranced up and down the aisle and said, “The old pepper, fellows, the old pepper,” until you wanted to tell him to sit down, for Christ’s sake, and shut up, and the truth is, the crazy bastards kept it up all the way to Stockton, which was damn near a hundred miles, and it’s a wonder the driver didn’t run the God-damn bus in the ditch and kill us all.

  We had three rooms in a hotel in Stockton, and I was in a room with Tizzy Davis and another guy and old Mulloy himself, which was a God-damn lousy break if I ever had one, because he was one of these sloppy bastards who sing in the bathtub and slop water all over the place and leave their God-damn crappy shaving stuff thrown all over, and every time you turned around or wanted to sneak a cigarette or something, there the son of a bitch was. Besides, he kept going on and on all the God-damn time about what we’d have to do to win the tournament, and what we’d have to watch out for when we played this team or that one, but how he knew we could do it and nothing was going to stop us now that we’d got this far, and I couldn’t help thinking that all the other teams had got this far, too, and probably felt the same way about it, and altogether he was such a pain in the ass that I got to thinking again about how he was going to feel after the last game, and I had a hell of a good time thinking about it.

  After we were settled, he got us all together in our room and delivered a God-damn lecture about athletes being gentlemen and not destroying private property, meaning the hotel, and I could tell from the way he said it that he’d had some pretty bad experiences with things like that, and he went on to tell us we had become famous and had acquired a moral obligation to set fine examples for all the kids who admired the hell out of us, and he wasn’t going to snoop or anything but was going to put us on our honor and have perfect faith in our integrity and trustworthiness and crap like that. Then he wound up saying, “Now, fellows, on to the state championship! The old pepper, the old spirit!” and everyone jumped up and yelled and beat on each other, and Tizzy Davis said, “Three cheers for Coach,” the brown-nose creep, and they gave the cheers, and a couple of guys got old Mulloy up on their shoulders and started to march around the room with him, but the fat bastard was too heavy, and they dropped him, and it sounded like he was going right through the floor, and as a matter of fact it looked to me like they’d started to tear up the God-damn hotel already.

  Well, we played our first game that evening, and we won going away, and there’s not a hell of a lot of use going into it any more than that, or any of the other games in our bracket, either, except to say that we won all of them, and I was high man in every damn one, and we had to play Stockton in the finals, because they won all the games in their bracket, too. They were pretty good, all right, and they had this guy who played center and was about as tall as a God-damn building and was practically a freak, as a matter of fact, and old Mulloy was in a regular sweat about it, because he knew this guy would be all over old Tizzy like a dirty shirt, and old Tizzy wouldn’t be able to hook any shots over his head, and it looked like it was going to be all up to me outside the keyhole. I didn’t tell him that I had what was left of fifty bucks in my pocket that said I wasn’t going to be there, and I had it all figured about pretending to get sick, just how I was going to do it, a
nd the evening of the game we were all lying down in our rooms resting, which was something old Mulloy made us do, and when he came in, saying, “All right, fellows, time to go, this is it, the old pepper,” I got off the bed and started to sway a little and hold my head, and he said, “What’s the matter, Skimmer,” and I said, “Nothing. I’ll be all right. I just felt a little dizzy for a second, that’s all.”

  He grabbed me by the arm and held me up like I was a lousy drunk or something, and he said, “Here, now, fellow, you can’t go getting sick on us just before the big game,” and I said, “I’ll be all right, don’t worry,” and he said, “Well, I hope so, for your sake as well as the team’s. I wasn’t going to tell you about it, because I thought it might make you nervous and throw you off your game, but as a matter of fact there’s a scout down here from Pipskill University just to watch you play this game, and if you’re sharp he’ll probably offer you a big athletic scholarship or something. I’ve known for a long time they had their eyes on you, and this is it, fellow, this is the one that will make or break you.”

  I said, “What’s an athletic scholarship?” and he said, “Well, they pay all your expenses at the University and give you a job besides that isn’t much of a job, and they set you up in a swell frat house, and all this is just so you can play basketball on the Pipskill University team,” and I looked at him and started thinking about it and said, “No bull?” and he said, “That’s straight stuff, Skimmer, and what’s more, there are always a few loyal alumni around with a lot of money and the good of the school at heart, and they’re always making little donations to the star players and things like that.”