The Boxer and the Spy

by Robert B. Parker

  “Well,” she said, “it is kind of fun, isn’t it?”

  “Not if Kip Carter pounds me into a fish cake,” Terry said.

  “Maybe he can‘t,” Abby said. “Gordon couldn’t.”

  “Gordon is not Kip Carter,” Terry said.

  “Don’t you think if Kip Carter All-American thought he could pound you into a fish cake he’d have done it instead of siccing Gordon on you?”

  Terry shrugged.

  They were in the Coffee Café in the center of town. The café had not set out to be a high school hangout. But it was downtown, next to the cinema, four blocks from the high school, and never seemed crowded in the afternoon. Slowly the kids started hanging out there, and the more they hung out there, the more adults didn’t come, so that finally the place had become a high school hangout. Whether the owners liked it or not, it was a fact. If you were a high school kid, the café was where you went.

  “Have you found out any more about steroids?” Abby said.

  “I’ve been on the Internet, but there‘s, like, too much information and they say different stuff, and I don’t know what’s true and what’s not.”

  “And there’s no one to ask?” Abby said.

  “Like who? My mother? She’s a bartender. She doesn’t know any more than I do about steroids.”

  “And there’s no one else,” Abby said.

  “Nobody that knows anything. I mean I can’t just make an appointment with some doctor and say, ‘tell me about ’roids.‘ You know?”

  “I do,” Abby said. “I’ve been thinking about that.”

  “You do a lot of thinking,” Terry said.

  “Yes I do,” Abby said, and smiled the big smile at him again. “I’m very smart.”

  “Modest too,” Terry said.

  “Absolutely,” Abby said.

  “So what have you been thinking?”

  “Gary,” she said. “At the drugstore.”

  “Sarkis Pharmacy?”

  “Yes,” Abby said. “He’s very nice, and he must know about steroids. I bet he’s got a book or something.”

  Terry nodded, looking at her.

  She is smart, he thought, and the best part is, she’s being smart for me.

  “Let’s go over there now,” Terry said.

  “On the hunt,” Abby said.

  And they left.

  SKYCAM VI

  You roughed him up a little?” the big man said.

  “Sort of,” the jock said.

  “But you didn’t touch him, ” the big man said. “Right? You had somebody else do it.”

  “I had Gordo do it.”

  “And?” the big man said.

  “Novak broke Gordo’s nose. ”

  The big man sat back in his chair behind his desk and shook his head.

  “Never send a boy... ” he said.

  “Gordo’s my age, ” the jock said.

  The big man shook his head.

  “It’s a saying, ” the big man said.

  “Yes sir, ” the jock said.

  “So, I guess you didn’t send a good message. ” “He got him with a lucky punch, ” the jock said. “Kid’s a ninth grader. ”

  “Do you think it will make him back off?” the big man said. The jock shook his head.

  “I shoulda done it myself, ” the jock said. “If you hadn’t told me not to, I‘da kicked his butt. ”

  “No, ” the big man said. “You don’t touch him. You get in trouble and they tie you to me... You keep your hands to yourself.”

  “Maybe we scared him enough anyway, ” the jock said.

  “I’ll bet, ” the big man said. “Keep an eye on him just in case he isn’t terrified. ”

  “He’s nothing, ” the jock said. “He got a lucky shot in on Gordo is all. You give me the go-ahead, I’ll clean his damn clock. ”

  “Do not swear in this office, ” the big man said. “This isn’t about who can win a fight with who. You don’t think he could get a lucky shot in on you?”

  “No sir, I can take him easy. He’s a punk.”

  The big man nodded.

  “You do what I tell you; ” the big man said. “You watch and you wait and you report back to me. I don’t want you laying a hand on him. We need to ratchet up the pressure, we’ll do it when I say so. ”

  The jock nodded.

  “You want to play Big Ten football?” the big man said.

  “Yes sir. ”

  “Name in the paper, a hundred thousand fans every Saturday? Pro scouts?”

  “Yes sir!”

  “Then do what I tell you and make sure you don’t tarnish this office.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “You been seeing the nurse regularly?” the big man said.

  “Just like you told me, ” the jock said.

  “Good, ” the big man said. “You keep doing what I tell you, and everything will be smooth as new ice. Okay?”

  “Okay, ” the jock said.

  “Okay, what?” the big man said.

  “Okay, sir?”

  “Thank you, ” the big man said.

  CHAPTER 20

  At the drugstore, Gary Sarkis gave them ten photocopied pages of a medical update about steroids from a big HMO.

  “Lotta medical language,” he told them. “But you can wade through it. You need help, call me.”

  “Do you take steroids for asthma?” Terry said.

  “Of a sort,” Gary Sarkis said. “In very small amounts. But it’s not the same stuff that athletes use.”

  They took the pages to the Wall and sat and began to read them. Terry would read a page and hand it to Abby. When Abby read it, she underlined things in yellow.

  When they had both finished, Terry said, “Yikes.”

  “It does take some wading,” Abby said.

  “You get anything out of it?” Terry said.

  Abby giggled.

  “If you take some of these things, your ... testicles might shrink,” Abby said.

  “Come on,” Terry said.

  “Says so right here,” Abby said, and marked the passage.

  Terry read it again.

  “ ‘Testicular size may decrease if androgen is taken for many years,’” he said. “I missed that first time through.”

  Abby giggled again.

  “I didn‘t,” she said.

  “So androgen is another word for steroid,” Terry said.

  “I think so.”

  “So here’s the psychological effects,” Terry said. “That’s what we want.”

  “It doesn’t say anything about suicide,” Abby said. “‘Major mood disorders and aggressive behavior’ is what it says.”

  “Suicide is a major mood disorder,” Terry said.

  “But if they meant suicide, they’d say so, wouldn’t they?”

  “I guess. Jason certainly wasn’t aggressive.” He pointed. “What’s this mean, you think?”

  Abby read aloud.

  “ ‘Most psychological descriptions are uncontrolled.’ ”

  “Uncontrolled how?” Terry said.

  “Like the studies aren‘t, um, careful, you know?” Abby said. “They’re more just what people say about steroids. The doctors are, like, not sure if it’s true. A lot of this stuff is like that.”

  “Well, hell,” Terry said. “Who’s going to tell their doctor they’re on ‘roids?”

  “I guess that’s the problem,” Abby said.

  They read the pages again.

  “Lot of stuff they think might happen to you from juicing,” Terry said.

  “And over here it says they’re not all that sure that it does you much good.”

  Terry nodded.

  “Look at this,” he said. “If women take it.”

  Abby looked down and read where he pointed.

  “Oh wow,” she said. “Acne, facial hair ...”

  “Sounds great, doesn’t it?” Terry said.

  “Can’t wait to try it,” Abby said.

  “All of this stuff is written
about jocks,” Terry said. “Doesn’t talk about ordinary kids like Jason.”

  “Maybe because ordinary kids like Jason don’t take steroids,” Abby said.

  “Nothing here makes me think he did,” Terry said.

  “No,” Abby said. “Sounds more like Kip Carter All-American to me.”

  “Yeah,” Terry said. “Maybe you should date him.”

  “Me?” Abby said.

  Terry gave her a straight-faced serious look.

  “Give you a chance to find out if anything’s shrinking,” he said.

  “Oh ugh!” Abby said.

  And they both began to giggle.

  CHAPTER 21

  George was wrapping Terry’s hands.

  “Little swollen,” George said.

  “I had a fight.”

  “How’d you do?” George said.

  “I broke the guy’s nose,” Terry said.

  “So you won?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Better than losing,” George said. “Why’d you fight?”

  “Other guy started it,” Terry said.

  “How?”

  “Was gonna beat me up,” Terry said.

  “Front of other people?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know why?”

  “I think it’s about that kid, Jason, who died a while ago?” “The one you been wondering about,” George said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why somebody want to beat you up ‘bout that?” George said.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You looking into it?” George said.

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe they want you to stop,” George said.

  Terry shrugged. George looked at him for a moment. He looked like he wanted to say something. But he didn’t.

  “What?” Terry said.

  George shook his head and finished wrapping Terry’s hands.

  “You gonna tell me mind my own business?” Terry said. “‘Cause I’m a kid, and I don’t know what I’m doing?”

  “Nope.”

  “You were gonna say something,” Terry said. “What?”

  George slid the gloves onto Terry’s hands and cinched the Velcro closers shut.

  “I was gonna tell you to be careful,” George said.

  “I can take care of myself,” Terry said.

  “Mostly,” George said. “Nobody can do it always.”

  “So I just quit and go hide?”

  “Nope.”

  “So,” Terry said. “What?”

  “So, nothing, that’s why I didn’t say it.”

  They looked at each other.

  “I don’t get it,” Terry said.

  George nodded.

  “Kid mattered to you,” George said.

  “I felt sorry for him,” Terry said. “Got no father. Mother’s a drunk. Everybody thinks he’s a fag.”

  “You?” George said.

  “Yeah, I guess he was.”

  “You don’t care.”

  “No,” Terry said. “Got nothing to do with me.”

  “You not gay,” George said.

  “No,” Terry said. “You care?”

  “No,” George said. “I don’t care. But that little girl might be awful disappointed.”

  Terry smiled.

  “I hope so,” he said.

  “You doing what you think is the right thing to do,” George said. “Maybe be some risk. Smart to be careful. Don’t want to hide all your life. If you gonna face up to it, might as well start now.”

  “You saying I should go ahead?”

  “Yep.”

  Terry didn’t know what to say.

  “So this guy comes at you,” George said, “swinging, and you hold him off with your jab.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And he tries a big John Wayne roundhouse punch,” George said.

  “Yeah.”

  “And you block it with your left?”

  “And hit him with my right, straight on.”

  “Broke his nose.”

  “Yes.”

  George smiled.

  “Fight over,” he said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  George smiled more.

  “Just remember,” he said. “You fight somebody knows a little something, won’t be so easy.”

  “Thanks, George,” Terry said.

  “For what? Teaching you left block, right punch?”

  “Including that,” Terry said.

  George picked up the big round punching mitts.

  “Come on,” he said. “You gonna be street fighting, may have to teach you some other things.”

  “You’ve already taught me a lot,” Terry said.

  “You learned a lot,” George said. “Which ain’t always the same thing.”

  CHAPTER 22

  They were on the rocks at the beach, in their place, on the point of an outcropping where the waves broke beneath them and left lacy patterns of foam on the surface of the water. Abby had her big notebook on her lap.

  “I’ve been organizing,” she said.

  “I bet you have,” Terry said.

  “I got Otis,” she said. “Tank, Nancy Fortin, a friend of Jason’s that Nancy got, Perry Fisher.”

  “Don’t know him,” Terry said.

  “Me either,” Abby said. “But Nancy says he wants in. I got Bev and Suzi. Steve Bellino says he’ll help.”

  “Bellino?” Terry said. “He’s a really good ballplayer.”

  “I know,” Abby said. “I think he hates Kip Carter All-American.”

  “Not a bad thing,” Terry said.

  “And I think he’s going to get some other guys,” Abby said. “Maybe Mitchell, maybe Carly Clark.”

  “Carly Clark?”

  “The basketball player,” Abby said. “The guy who just transferred in.”

  “I know who he is,” Terry said.

  “So we already got a pretty good spy system set up.”

  “Thanks to you,” Terry said.

  “Can I be known as the Spymaster,” Abby said, deepening her voice as much as she could.

  “You bet,” Terry said. “Think they’ll keep quiet about this?”

  “I think so,” Abby said. “They all hate Bullard, and they all hate Kip Carter All-American, and I think this is their chance to do one or both of them some damage.”

  “Any of them doing it for Jason?” Terry said.

  “Nancy, probably,” Abby said. “Probably Perry Fisher. The rest of us are doing it for you.”

  “You too?”

  “Of course, me too,” Abby said. “I’ll do anything you want to do, you know that.”

  “Anything?” Terry said.

  “Except that,” Abby said. “Yet.”

  “Yet,” Terry said.

  “Yet,” Abby said.

  “What are we waiting for?” Terry said.

  “I don’t know,” Abby said. “It just seems too soon.”

  Terry was quiet for a moment and then he nodded.

  “I think so too,” he said.

  “Do you know why?” Abby said.

  “No. You?”

  “No,” Abby said.

  Terry shook his head. They were quiet, watching the foam patterns slide backward out of the inlets in the rock. It was the first time they’d ever spoken seriously about it. It made him nervous. Kind of exciting, though!

  “They going to, ah, report in to you?” Terry said after a time.

  “Yes,” Abby said, “and I’ll write it down and try to like find a pattern or something. And we’ll talk.”

  Terry smiled at her.

  “Will we ever,” he said.

  CHAPTER 23

  Terry saw Gordon in the corridor between classes. Gordon was wearing sunglasses, which didn’t fully succeed in covering his two black eyes. His cheeks were puffy too. Gordon either didn’t see him or pretended not to. In the cafeteria, Kip Carter looked right through Terry. When he went to English class, he saw Mr. Bullard standing by the door.

&
nbsp; “I want to talk with you,” he said.

  Terry stopped and waited. Mr. Bullard took his arm and steered him away from the door and into a stairwell.

  “You are getting a pretty bad reputation around here,” Bullard said.

  Terry nodded.

  “I understand you got into a fight,” Bullard said.

  “Not at school,” Terry said.

  “Don’t give me any smart mouth,” Bullard said. “You got into a fight.”

  “Yes sir,” Terry said.

  “You start it?”

  “No sir.”

  “I heard you did,” Bullard said.

  “No sir,” Terry said.

  “What’s your story?” Bullard said.

  “Gordy wanted to see if I could box,” Terry said.

  “And you broke his nose?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “He says you sucker punched him,” Bullard said.

  “He swung on me,” Terry said. “I blocked it and countered.”

  “Kip Carter supports Gordon’s story,” Bullard said. “You think he’s lying.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Well,” Bullard said. “I don’t think so. And I’ve already given this as much time as I’m going to. The next time you step out of line, you’re suspended. You understand that?”

  “Even if it’s not my fault?” Terry said.

  “You’re a troublemaker, Novak. You’ll keep your nose clean or I’ll lower the boom on you.”

  Hulking before him, Mr. Bullard reminded Terry of some kind of animal. A rhino, maybe. Thick and short and massive and ugly and mean. His eyes were kind of small, and they looked even smaller because his face was so wide. Made him look sort of dumb. Terry smiled to himself for a moment. Maybe he is dumb, Terry thought.

  Bullard saw the smile.

  “There’s nothing funny going on here,” Bullard said.

  There’s a lot funny going on here, Terry thought. But he kept his face blank. There was no point taking Bullard on direct. What was it George said? Something about deciding early in the fight whether it was one you could win or one where you mainly tried to avoid getting hurt. He knew that this was that kind of a fight. He wasn’t going to win, right now, at least. And he wasn’t going to win alone. But on the other hand, the fight wasn’t over. And every day he seemed a little less alone. Pick your spot, he said to himself. Pick your spot. Right now he knew that he was in a position to get kicked out of school anytime Bullard wanted to. He got kicked out, he got kicked out. He wasn’t going to stop. He was in too deep. It wasn’t even about Jason anymore. Something bad was going on, and he wasn’t going to be chased off by a pig like Bullard until he found out what it was.