cwilleford.cockfighter-第35部分

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〃
　　Omar　headed　reluctantly　toward　the　cockhouse；　his　hands　shoved　deep　in　his　pockets。　Omar　might　have　been　a　big　shot　in　the　advertising　business；　but　he　certainly　had　a　lot　to　learn　about　people　if　he　wanted　to　make　a　name　for　himself　in　cockfighting。
　　
　　
　　
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　　To　prepare　our　cocks　for　the　six…cock　Tifton　derby；　I　found　it　more　practical　to　move　myself　and　my　gamecocks　to　Omar's　farm。　I　was　made　fortable　there。　I　had　my　own　bedroom；　there　was　an　inside　shower　and　bathroom；　and　the　meals　prepared　by　Mary　Bondwell　were　a　lot　tastier　than　the　bachelor　meals　I　had　been　cooking　for　myself。
　　I　was　so　anxious　to　win　the　Tifton　meet；　I　put　thirty　cocks　into　conditioning　just　to　shape　up　six　top　fighters。　Working　thirty　cocks　daily　rarely　gave　me　a　free　hour　to　myself　during　the　day；　and　I　was　usually　asleep　by　eight　thirty。　Sunday　is　not　a　holiday　for　a　cockfighter　when　he　has　birds　to　condition　for　a　derby。　There　were　too　many　things　I　had　to　do　on　Sunday　to　fight　at　the　Ocala　pit；　but　I　sent　Omar　to　the　pit　to　fight　some　of　the　cocks　that　peaked　fast。　He　didn't　lose　a　single　hack　out　of　the　eight　battles　he　fought。
　　Our　wallets　were　growing　fatter。
　　On　the　morning　of　November　9；　we　left　for　Tifton；　Georgia；　at　five；　and　arrived　at　the　Tifton　game　club　at　three　the　same　afternoon。　We　signed　the　derby　contracts　and　were　assigned　to　a　cockhouse　and　given　a　padlock　for　the　door。
　　Jack　Burke　was　an　entry　in　the　Tifton　derby；　and　he　looked　me　up　that　evening　after　supper。　Omar　had　stayed　in　our　motel　room　to　watch　television；　but　I　was　edgy　and　drove　out　to　the　pit　to　take　a　final　look　at　the　twelve　cocks　we　had　brought　along。　The　birds　were　roosting　all　right。　As　I　locked　the　door　and　lit　a　cigarette；　Jack　Burke　approached　me　through　the　dusk。
　　〃Evenin'；　Frank；〃　he　greeted　me　cordially。　〃It's　nice　to　see　you　again'　Jack　looked　prosperous　in　a　double…breasted　blue　worsted　suit；　a　wide　paisley　necktie；　and　black…andwhite　shoes。
　　I　shook　hands　with　the　man。　Jack　rubbed　his　chin　nervously；　and　I　could　sense　that　something　was　on　his　mind。　He　fixed　his　eyes　on　an　imaginary　point　to　the　left　of　my　head。
　　〃I　don't　suppose　you　heard　the　good　news；〃　he　said；　smiling　blealdy。
　　I　waited　patiently　for　him　to　tell　it。
　　〃I　got　married！〃　He　laughed。　〃Bet　that　surprises　you；　don't　it？　Yes；　sir！　Sooner　or　later　they　catch　up　with　the　best　of　us；　Frank！〃　He　hesitated。　〃I　married　Dody　White；　Frank；〃　he　added　softly。
　　I　felt　sorry　for　Jack；　but　I　shook　hands　with　him　again　anyway。　So　White　was　Dody's　last　name。　I　had　wondered　about　that。　And　now　she　was　Mrs。　Dody　Burke。
　　〃I　wanted　to　bring　Dody　along　to　the　derby；　Frank；　but　she　wouldn't　e　because　you　were　here。　I　tried　to　tell　her　you　weren't　the　kind　who　would　rake　up　the　past；　but　she　wouldn't　believe　me。　She　seems　to　have　the　idea　that　you　can　talk；　and　she's　afraid　you'll　say　something　about　her。　I　know　you　can't　talk；　but　I　couldn't　convince　Dody。〃　He　hesitated。　〃Can　you　use　your　voice；　Frank？〃
　　I　smiled　and　flipped　the　butt　of　my　cigarette　in　an　arc　to　the　ground。　The　idea　that　I　would　ever　say　anything　about　Burke's　wife　whether　I　could　talk　or　not　was　patently　ridiculous。　And　Burke　knew　it。　Dody　had　undoubtedly　forced　him　to　ask　me　to　keep　quiet　about　our　former　alliance。　For　an　instant　I　felt　sorry　for　him；　and　then　I　despised　him　for　being　so　damned　weak　and　pussy…whipped。
　　〃1　feel　like　a　fool！〃　Burke　blushed。　For　a　man　in　his　midforties；　the　ability　to　blush　is　quite　a　feat。
　　〃Well；〃　Burke　said；　〃I'll　bring　her　along　to　the　Plant　City　derby；　and　introduce　you　all　just　like　you'd　never　seen　each　other　before。　That　way；　Dody's　mind'll　be　at　ease。　All　right？〃
　　I　nodded　and　looked　away。　I　could　almost　smell　the　rancorous　acid　burning　Jack's　insides。　What　a　edown　for　Jack　Burke；　to　let　a　little　tramp　like　Dody　humiliate　him　this　way。
　　〃Now；　to　business！〃　Jack　said　briskly；　in　his　regular　voice。　〃D'you　think　you　and　that　new　partner　of　yours　can　show　enough　cocks　after　the　Plant　City　meet　to　fight　me　in　an　old…fashioned　main？〃
　　The　decision　was　up　to　me。　I　was　positive　Omar　wouldn't　object　to　the　challenge。　Burke　fed　almost　twice　as　many　cocks　as　we　did；　but　I　had　a　fierce　hankering　to　beat　him　in　a　two…entry　main。　I　lowered　my　chin　a　fraction　and　spat　between　his　feet。
　　〃Good！　I'll　make　the　necessary　arrangements　to　get　the　pit　on　the　thirty…first；　the　day　after　the　derby。　How　does　two　hundred　dollars　a　fight　sound；　with　a　thousand　on　the　odd　fight？〃
　　For　the　third　time　in　as　many　minutes；　I　shook　hands　with　Burke。
　　He　started　to　say　something　else；　changed　his　mind；　and　walked　away　through　the　deepening　dusk　toward　the　parking　lot。　Burke　was　still　a　damned　good　man。　In　time　he　would　learn　how　to　handle　Dody。　But　the　memory　of　this　humiliating　episode　would　rankle　him　forever。　I　knew　this；　and　I　knew　just　as　well　that　he　would　eventually　blame　me　instead　of　himself。　That's　the　way　men　are。
　　The　next　day　we　lost　only　one　fight　in　the　six…cock　derby；　but　it　was　one　fight　too　many。　Jack　Burke　didn't　lose　a　single　fight；　and　picked　up　the　thousand…dollar　purse。　Getting　close　only　means　something　when　it　es　to　pitching　horseshoes。　But　despite　the　lost　fight；　Omar　had　placed　enough　judicious　bets　to　add　nine　hundred　dollars　to　our　bankroll。
　　The　money　was　wele；　of　course；　but　the　Tifton　loss　was　made　even　more　depressing　by　the　sad　news　that　Martha　Middleton；　Ed　Middleton's　wife；　had　died　of　a　heart　attack。　Her　obituary　appeared　in　the　same　issue　of　The　Southern　Cockfighfer　that　carried　the　announcement　of　Ed　Middleton's　retirement　from　the　sport。
　　I　had　liked　the　old　lady；　and　I　tried　to　write　Ed　a　letter　of　condolence。　But　after　a　futile　attempt　to　write　a　decent　letter　that　didn't　sound　banal　or　morbid；　I　gave　up　on　the　idea　and　sent　him　a　mercial　condolence　card　by　special　delivery。　Not　much　of　a　writer　himself；　Ed　Middleton　acknowledged　receipt　of　my　condolences　by　thanking　me　on　the　back　of　a　picture　postcard　of　Disney　World。　His　card　was　waiting　for　me　when　I　returned　to　Ocala。
　　There　was　also　a　letter　waiting　for　me　in　my　mailbox　from　Frances；　my　fat　sister…in…law。　Frances　was　the　last　person　I　ever　expected　to　hear　from。　After　two　stiff　drinks　and　a　wait　of　one　hour；　I　made　myself　open　the　letter。
　　
　　Dear　Frank；　
　　Only　a　few　short　weeks　ago　I　hated　you　and　would　have　been　glad　to　shoot　you。　But　now　I　see　your　wisdom　in　getting　Randall　out　of　the　terrible　rut　he　was　in。　He　won't　write　you；　because　he's　too　proud。　But　he　loves　you　and　he's　your　very　own　brother　and　I　want　you　to　write　him　soon。
　　It　was　an　awful　shock　to　move　out　of　what　I　considered　my　home　for　life；　especially　knowing　that　wreckers　were　going　to　tear　it　down　the　next　day。
　　But　I　forgive　you；　Frank；　for　what　it　did　for　Randy。
　　We　could；　have　moved　in　with　Daddy　in　Macon；　but　Randy　wouldn't　do　it。　We　rented　a　room　in　a　boardinghouse　in　Macon　instead…and　Frank；　Randy　hasn't　had　a　single　drink　since　the　morning　we　left　the　farm！
　　He　found　a　position　right　away。　You　remember　how　he　used　to　dig　through　those　law　books　day　after　day？　Well；　he　took　some　of　his　findings　down　to　the　White　Citizen's　Council　and　they　were　actually　amazed　at　some　of　the　loopholes　he　found　in　the　new　bussing　laws。　Anyway；　they　hired　him　as　a　full…time　WCC　counselor　with　a　retainer　of　eight　thousand　dollars　a　year！　And　it's　all　been　so　wonderful　for　me；　too。　Randy　takes　me　to　all　the　meetings　and　I've　met　ever　so　many　nice　new　people！　His　speeches　are　just　wonderful；　Frank；　and　he　gets　one　hundred　dollars　and　expenses　every　time　he　talks。　Next　Monday；　we're　going　to　the　WCC　rally　in　Atlanta　and　Randy　is　going　to　talk　about　the　blackpower　movement。　i'm　proud　enough　to　bust　and　his　picture　will　be　in　the　paper！　Next　Monday；　in　the　Constitution；　but　I'll　cut　it　out　and　send　you　a　copy。
　　I　can't　tell　you　how　happy　I　am　about　Randy's　success。　Make　up　with　your　brother；　Frank。　Please？
　　He　loves　you　and　so　do　I！
　　All　my　love；　Frances。
　　
　　I　had　no　intention　of　writing　Randall　and　making　up　with　him。　But　I　appreciated　the　news　from　Frances。　I　had　feared　that　the　two　of　them　would　appear　at　my　Ocala　farm　some　morning；　begging　to　be　taken　in…and　I　would　have　been　forced　to　shelter　them。　Now　that　Randall　was　finally　on　his　own；　he　could　go　his　way　and　I　would　go　mine。　I　didn't　answer　Frances　either；　but　I　saved　the　envelope　because　it　had　their　Macon　address。
　　When　Christmastime　came；　I　would　send　them　a　card。　Peace　on　Earth。　Good　Will　toward　Men！　Anytime　Randall　really　wanted　to　make　up　with　me；　all　he　had　to　do　was　to　send　me　the　three　hundred　dollars　he　owed　me。
　　
　　
　　It　was　my　fault　that　we　lost　the　Plant　City　derby；　although　no　one　can　win　them　all；　no　matter　how　good　his　gamecocks　are。　But　I　had　concentrated　on　the　selection　and　the　conditioning　of　the　cocks　for　the　post…derby　main　with　Jack　Burke；　and　Omar　had　done　most　of　the　conditioning　for　the　derby。　I　can't　blame　Omar　for　the　loss。　He　did　a　good　conscientious　job。　I　did　feel；　however；　that　if　I　had　helped　him　more　we　would　have　e　out　better　than　third　place。　There　was　some　consolation　in　the　fact　that　Jack　Burke　finished　fourth。　Like　me；　Jack　had　undoubtedly　concentrated　his　efforts　on　preparing　for　our　main。
　　The　Texas　entry　of　Johnny　McCoy　and　Colonel　Bob　Moore　were　the　winners　of　the　derby；　and　it　was　no　disgrace　to　lose　to　them。　These　partners　are　two　of　the　biggest　names　in　U。S。　cockfighting。
　　Like　a　bridge　player；　who　can　remember　every　important　hand　he　held　in　a　rubber　of　bridge　five　or　ten　years　back；　a　cockfighter　can　remember　the　details　of　every　pitting　in　an　important　cockfight。　The　details　of　the　two…entry　main　between　Jack　Burke　and　myself　are　still　as　vivid　in　my　mind　as　if　it　were　held　ten　minutes　ago。　But　I　like　the　way　Tex　Higdon　reported　the　event　in　The　American　Gamefowl　Quarterly。
　　Tex　had　been　reporting　cockfights　for　game…fowl　magazines　for　twenty　years　or　more；　and　he's　a　topflight　pit　reporter。　And　yet；　hardly　a　season　goes　by　when　Tex　doesn't　get　into　one　or　two　fistfights　for　his　pains。　His　way　of　writing　rubs　a　lot　of　high…strung　cockfighters　the　wrong　way；　especially　when　they　are　on　the　receiving　e