He turned again to her and half-laughing said, "Lin, I think we watch too much television. You know, the detective slugs the guy behind the ear and says something about the man being out for exactly thirty minutes? Or the cowboy who invariably gets shot in the shoulder and within hours is walking about with his arm in a handsome sling? Things like that make people seriously believe that because I was once a boxer I should be able to know just how hard to punch to stop but not injure a wild man like Tom Ruby. Now if I went up to one of the town scolds and told her that is what she expected of me she'd deny it and believe herself. But that's what it amounts to. Somehow Mr. Troop should have stopped the Ruby boy without hurting him! How? I don't know, but somehow! Well, how? I don't know. He's the boxer. Lordy!"
She wondered if anyone even suspected that Ben Troop was worrying because he had hit Tom Ruby once more than he had to? She clambered awkwardly from the bed, finding her legs had gone to sleep from sitting without moving. She came up behind Ben and fitted herself against him, wrapping her arms about his waist.
"You'll have people on your side too, Ben."
"I know it, Lin and that's part of the problem too. Why should they have to get involved and the town split, and everybody angry with everybody else? The irony of it is that they aren't going to be mad over Tom Ruby trying to wipe out a teacher, they're going to be in an uproar because he got hurt doing it."
She felt the angry shrug of his shoulders. He muttered gruffly, "If you stick your head in a lion's mouth, you shouldn't get too mad at the lion if he takes a bite."
Lin thought the metaphor applicable, though she doubted Tom ever thought of Ben Troop in terms of lion's jaws. Somebody should have warned him. Probably people had and Tom, as usual, hadn't listened.
Her musing was shattered by loud shouts. Almost bewildered, she felt increased tension come into the muscles beneath her arms. She heard him mutter, "Oh, hell," and for a moment, looking out into the lighted square, she failed to discover the interruption.
Troop pointed toward the open square, almost directly beneath their window, and she saw a struggling knot of men that dissolved away, leaving one figure weaving in the center of the street which, even as they watched, raised its fist toward them as though it could see through the shadows and know they were watching.
"I know you're there, Troop! Come out and fight me, you no good sonofabitch!"
+++++
"For heaven's sake, Ben, who is it?" The first awful fear that it was her husband disappeared. Seen from above, the man presented a monstrous caricature of human shape. Lank hair fell over his eyes and a colorless shirt, open nearly to the waist, hung half in and half out over sagging Levis and run-down work shoes.
"Square Ruby." Ben's words were almost lost in Ruby's bellowed challenge.
"Don't hide in the dark, Troop. Come out an' fight a real man!"
Instinctively they stepped further into the shadows. Sight of Troop could only abet Ruby's rage and Lin hoped desperately that someone would quickly silence him.
She searched her mind, dredging up what she had heard of Square Ruby. She found little. A notorious drunkard and brawler seemed the limit of her mental file.
Men's voices came from near the corner and Square swung for a moment to answer. His voice came clearly to the listeners and undoubtedly as plainly in neighboring buildings. Troop saw window shades going up, and a few heads appeared at still other windows.
He hoped Chief Morrison was in the station. If so, he should appear around the corner any moment. More likely the chief was sitting in his police car over by the highway showing his badge and picking off an occasional speeder.
Square silenced the objectors and turned again to Troop's dark window. He drank from a beer can, unnoticed until now in his hand, and then flung it wildly in the direction of Troop's apartment. It clanked against the brick facing and rattled to the pavement, striking far from its intended target.
"Oh, Mr. Troop . . . come out, Mr. Troop!" Ruby was sing-songing the words in a falsetto to goad his supposed listener. "I'm waiting for you, Mr. Troop!"
No sign of the police chief and it appeared that no one was going to quiet the loudmouth. Troop hoped Ruby would tire of the game and wander away, but his hopes were dashed almost as though Square sensed his thoughts.
"All right, Troop. I've waited long enough! Come out or I'm comin' up there after you! I ain't kiddin'. Come out, goddamn you, or I'll bust your goddamn door down an' drag you out!"
Troop broke from Lin's grasp.
"Ben, you're not going out there." Her voice was a plea, knowing that Troop was going.
"I can't have him coming up here, Lin," His voice was soft without apparent anger. "I don't mind people thinking maybe I hid up here and was afraid of him, but Lin, if I don't shut him up this time, he'll be back, or his friends will think it's fun and start the same thing."
He held her hand for an instant, "Look, don't worry. I'm not going to get hurt. Don't try to slip out though. You'd better wait until I get rid of him and things quiet down, Ok?"
"Sure, Ben." She hadn't the slightest intent of leaving Ben's apartment until he was safely back in it. She realized then that Troop was going after Ruby mainly because he couldn't have her discovered in his apartment. "Ben, wait a minute!" But he was already starting down the stairs and she felt the outer door close.
He could hear Ruby still shouting threats in the roadway, still gazing up at his apartment window. Small groups of men stood in front of the hotel and Troop saw an arm pointed at him as he left the shadows. He dodged quickly between parked cars to approach Ruby from the side. Concentrating his ire on the faceless window, Ruby was unaware of Troop's presence until he spoke.
"Square!" Ruby's head jerked around as though a cable had connected it to Troop. His body followed and he turned fully, planting himself solidly with feet spread wide and huge fists hanging clenched at his sides.
To most, Ruby must have looked powerful and threatening. Troop recognized the almost stagger. For Christ sake, Troop thought, he's so drunk he can hardly move.
"Well, well! So there you are, big man!" Square's voice was bullying. "Get ready to get whipped, Troop, 'cause I'm gonna give you a taste of what you handed my little brother. I'm gonna stomp you, Troop!"
Troop used the time Ruby took talking to move well within punching range of the brawler. Now he was sure. Ruby reeked of booze and his eyes had difficulty focusing. He seemed to be waiting for some answer. Ben stepped lightly to one side, again noting that Ruby turned belatedly with uncoordinated clumsiness. If he could delay the proceedings for a few minutes, Square Ruby would probably fall down on his own.
"Look, Ruby, you aren't going to whip me or anybody else. First, you're too drunk to even start. Second, if you try it, I'm going to deck you right here in front of everybody. Now your best bet is to hike right back to the tavern and do some thinking before bad things happen to you."
Some of the message seemed to have gotten through the alcoholic fog squeezing Square's brain for he said, "You're gonna whip me? You little bastard! I ain't no school kid to push around, damn you!"
Troop stepped to the right, a big step, and Ruby turned to face him head on. Square barely felt the hand on his elbow that urged him right on around so he was suddenly facing away from Troop, his legs almost crossed, and his befogged mind unable to comprehend what was happening.
As Square turned, Troop pushed him on into a greater turn than intended. It was basic judo. People saw Ruby spun around. They saw Troop's left hand grasp Ruby's lank hair and jerk his head backward. Almost unnoticed, his right hand slid between Ruby's legs and grasped Ruby's genitals and squeezed.
Square Ruby's howl of anguish filled the square. It ricocheted from buildings, setting dogs to barking blocks away. It took a moment longer for the spectators to realize what was happening. They heard Ruby's bellow and saw him being moved quickly away, apparently from Ben Troop's hold on his hair. Then they began to grasp the fact that Ruby was walking high on his toes a
s though stepping on hot coals.
With his arm between Ruby's legs and a tight grip on Ruby's most prized possessions, Troop pulled up a little raising Square onto his toes and hauled his head back by his hair. He said almost gently, "Let's go, Ruby," And propelled him without resistance toward the town jail.
Having no alternative, Ruby went. His incoherent pleas for taking it easy went unheeded and he tiptoed across the square as much like a ballet dancer as he ever would be.
The alcohol burned out of Square's brain by a fear so elemental as to exceed all other agonies. Square was, for an instant, certain he was being castrated on the spot and he felt almost grateful when realization came that he would not be emasculated unless he resisted.
Troop did not apply the ultimate, wrenching jerks that could have permanently ruined Square Ruby. He used the leverage of pain to march Ruby directly to the jail and into the single open cell. A quick push and quicker release left Ruby standing alone in the center of the cell while Troop closed and locked the barred door.
As he walked back through the alley, Ben felt the intensity draining away. Shakiness attacked his legs and sweat broke on his forehead and upper up. Whew, he thought, I really am getting too old for this stuff. He was thankful he had pulled it off without serious difficulty.
Lin waited, still by the window. Ben could feel her fears and moved to stand behind her, enfolding her within his strong arms.
She chuckled a bit raggedly, "Did you ruin him forever, Ben?"
She felt him grinning in the dark and wondered that she could detect his expressions without seeing them. "No, he might ache for a while, that's all."
He reached past her, drew the curtains closed, and turned on a small lamp, introducing a glow to the room that in contrast with the former darkness seemed almost too bright.
She saw slender red lines running across his back and remembered putting them there only a short time before. They stood out now, distinctly red and angry looking. For the first time, she realized that Ben had been out in the Square without his shirt. The chill evening had gone unnoticed in the tension but she wondered if the tales would include Ben Troop appearing from the alleyway stripped for battle.
Whistling a snatch of unrecognizable tune, he gave her a peck on the forehead and whistled his way into the bathroom. Lin heard the shower hiss and, suddenly exhausted, she sprawled comfortably on a sofa.
With Ben Troop there would never be a dull moment. A trite thought she knew, but he evoked sparks wherever he went. He was lightning in the classroom and nail-hard in a street fight. She listened to him singing under the relaxing spray of hot water and pondered for the millionth time how she, a twenty-nine year old, became involved with Ben Troop, teacher, former athlete and soldier, and a very desirable man of forty-six. She yawned, stretched, and decided she didn't care how it came about; she preferred it.
The thought of him leaving Newport and herself returning to the routine of school room, house cleaning, and uninspiring husband flitted across her mind, and she vowed fervently not to let Ben Troop leave her life.
The school board would surely see that there had been no other choice, but, a student lay in the hospital with his jaw laced shut and his face barely restored.
She found herself suddenly chilled and crept beneath a light afghan, waiting for Ben to finish his shower.
+++++
The outgoing secretary speculatively eyed his successor. They lounged comfortably in the deep leatherette chairs typical of most recently appointed office suites. The two were good friends, both experienced in the classroom as well as in educational politicking.
Yet it was the younger man whose term of office was closing and he had not recovered from his astonishment at the older man's election to this, the state teachers' association's highest office. David Campbell's election bucked the trend, which was toward younger men with extensive collections of degrees trailing their names.
In this day of selecting candidates from qualifications listed on résumés, David Campbell's listings had been sterile and few. He had a B.S. degree, some graduate credits, a few local association positions, and that was it, except for his thirty-eight years as a classroom teacher.
When he had examined Campbell's results, the secretary had felt embarrassed by the thin listing of measurable accomplishments. Because he personally admired and respected the older man, he had approached Campbell and expressed his opinion on the matter. Because they were friends, his feelings had been broached clearly.
"Hell, David, you don't have a chance! Save us all some grief and drop out now, will you?"
Because they were friends, Campbell had said, "The proof is in the pudding, Buster. I think a lot of people are tired of you young guys and just maybe the good teachers of Pennsylvania are ready for a dose of old-time, foursquare, conservative leadership."
"My God, is that your platform?"
"Close enough for now."
"You won't carry a school system!"
"Will I get your vote?"
"Sure, if you decide to run, but I don't have to judge by your résumé. I'm telling you, you won't carry a system!"
"I've decided to run and, Buster, don't change your mind in the voting booth. Your vote's as good as a teacher's, you know."
"David, you're going to get whipped so badly you'll consider joining the Peace Corps, but don't worry. I'll find something for you afterward. Maybe you could carry the new secretary's briefcase."
There had been other conversations. Informal polling showed no strong support for David Campbell. When questioned, teachers spoke of other candidates, but when the voting was completed, Campbell's name led all the rest.
The professionals chewed on it. They reasoned and rationalized and concluded it a conservative backlash, not really indicating a trend, but they were nervous. Their smiles were more forced, their confidence shaken, and they speculatively eyed David Campbell.
"How are your committees shaping up, David?" The secretary prodded, "Are you about set to take over?"
"It moves slowly, Buster. Oh, we'll be ready, but you know how it is. I have to sit on my hands, stay out of their way, and give them a chance to perform. Hard to do."
"Boy, don't I know it! But if you don't give them room to grow, you're dead, Dave. Nobody can do it all himself."
"I know. The good leader appoints his people and then allows them to work. He stays out of the petty stuff and allows decision making by the ones who know best. Nope, it isn't easy!"
"Hey, that reminds me. You're going to be big on giving authority and responsibility back to the classroom teacher. I got a call this evening that might interest you." He went to his desk and flipped through his note pad until he found what he wanted.
"Yeah, here we go. Happened up in Perry County. Some teacher defended himself and the student ended up hospitalized with a broken jaw and busted nose."
"Who'd they employ out there, Max Baer?"
"No," He chuckled, "Some guy named Troop."
Campbell came to attention. "That isn't Ben Troop, is it?"
Surprised, the secretary glanced at his notes, "Yeah, Ben Troop is right. You know him, David?'
"Yes, I know him. Had him as a student teacher a few years ago."
"Must be a different guy. This slugger is in his forties, according to the association rep who called it in. The local association is going to bat for this Troop somewhat reluctantly, I gather. At least they didn't sound all fired up about it."
"Ben Troop! I'll be damned. I nearly forgot about him. That's the Troop all right. He'd finished an Army career when I got him. He'd be about forty-five or so now. What else do you have on this thing, Buster? Any details?"
"Well, I guess the superintendent thinks this Troop is hot stuff and he's going all out for him, dragging the association along it looks like. Super's name is Boden."
"Bob Boden?"
"Yeah, you know him too?'
"Have for years. Top man, Buster! Ever meet him?'
"No." The secreta
ry began to appreciate Campbell's contacts.
"Tiny little guy and rough as a cob. If Boden backs Troop, you can bet your dollar that Troop is right."
They considered the situation in their respective minds.
"Might have trouble, Dave. Pounding a kid like that isn't usual."
"They set any meetings on it yet? Any hearings or anything?"
"And how! Board's set for tomorrow night at seven o'clock."
He was struck by Campbell's concern. "Say, look, Dave. If you want to sit in, you could go as our rep. Make us look good to the locals; might give this Troop a boost."
"Wouldn't hurt my image either, would it, Buster?" Campbell grinned. "I think I'll give Boden a ring; see what he says." He added thoughtfully, "That Troop was a good boy, should be better now. Hate to lose a good man, Buster." He made up his mind. "I'll call Boden and if I can do any good, I'll be in Perry County. Where in Perry County, Buster?"
"Newport. Town along the Juniata. You know it?'
"Yup. Never visited though." He turned to the secretary, "You'll back me if I take a stand, Mr. Secretary?'
"All the way, David. Hell, I've only got a few weeks left, then it's all yours." He hesitated, then said, "Dave, don't put yourself in a bind, will you?"
"Only if it's worth it, Buster. Say, have you got Boden's home phone there anywhere?"
+++++
The Ruby men sprawled around Eberson's small living room. They filled chairs and overflowed onto the layered scraps of carpet. Cigarette smoke hung pall-like, allowing the floor sitters clear breathing while those at a higher level were enveloped in thickening clouds of gray air. Empty beer cans lay carelessly discarded among the dozen or so Ruby and Shattuck males, and the women rattling about the kitchen were continually called into service, opening and delivering fresh cans of Schmidt's.
As the air thickened, Eberson's sense of contentment expanded. His role as leader was best when the Ruby men gathered for serious discussion. He relished his importance and enjoyed the awareness of control over his families.
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