Cockfighter - Charles Ray Willeford [103]
“It's probably the beard,” Omar said self-consciously.
“Maybe so. Anyway, you're in good hands with Frank Mansfield.” The senator smiled in my direction, exposing his blue-gray false teeth. “You'll teach him our American ways, won't you, son?”
Smiling in return, I nodded my head. Omar's great-great-grandfather had emigrated to the United States, but it would have been useless to explain this fact to the senator.
Senator Foxhall nodded his head thoughtfully about twenty times before speaking again.
“Frank is a good man, Mr. Baradinsky. I knew his granddaddy. You listen to Frank and you'll learn something about gamecocks. Did you ever hear of Polish poultry?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, they don't come from Poland! I'll bet you didn't know that, did you?”
“No, sir, I didn't.”
“I didn't think you did,” the old man said gleefully. “Not many people do. Did you know that, Ed?”
“I sure did, Senator,” Ed said, with a rueful laugh. “I once tried to cross some frizzle-haired Polish cocks, and after losing three in the pit, I found out that they wouldn't face when they were hurt.”
“You should've come to me,” the old man said. “I could've told you that and saved you some money.” He turned back to Omar. “Cockfighting in Poland has never been up to standard, Mr. Baradinsky. They don't feed them right. Same thing with Ireland. Gamecocks can't fight on raw potatoes, Mr. Baradinsky.”
“I'll remember that,” Omar said blandly.
Mrs. Pierce, the senator's housekeeper for more than thirty years, tugged on the old man's arm. “We'd better go in to dinner now,” she reminded him. As the old couple turned away from us to lead the way into the dining room, Omar shrugged his shoulders helplessly, and winked at me. I grinned and nodded my head. Actually, my partner had shown considerable restraint. The senator had been correct in everything he said. If Omar had tried to argue with him, the old man would have cut him to shreds.
Except for Omar and myself, the guests seated around the dinner table were a rather eccentric group. I had known most of them for years, but even to me it seemed like an unusual gathering of people. All of us wore our entry numbers on the backs of our coats. We needed these numbers in the pit as identification for the benefit of the spectators. But we also had to wear them at all times for Senator Foxhall. He knew our names, and he knew them well, but sometimes he had a tendency to forget them. When he did forget, he checked his typewritten list of entries against our numbers so he could address any one of us by name without embarrassment.
Senator Foxhall sat at the head of the long table, and Mrs. Pierce was seated at the opposite end. Ed Middleton and Peach Owen were seated on either side of the senator. Next to Ed was Buddy Waggoner, the second referee, who would preside over the drag pit.
By their entry numbers, the remaining guests were seated around the table, clockwise from Buddy Waggoner.
No. 1. Johnny McCoy and Colonel Bob Moore, USAF (Retired). Johnny McCoy and his partner, Colonel Bob, flew to meets all over the U.S. from their fifty-thousand-acre ranch near Dan's Derrick, Texas, in a Lear jet. Colonel Bob, although he had been retired for at least ten years, still wore his Air Force blue uniform at all times. Only two days before, this Texas partnership had fought in the Northwest Cockfighting Tourney in Seattle, Washington. From there, they had flown back to Dan's Derrick and picked up fresh, newly conditioned gamecocks. They then had flown in to Macon. The senator's limousine and private game-fowl trailer had brought them from Macon to Milledgeville.
No. 2. Pete Chocolate, Pahokee, Florida. Except for the senator, Pete Chocolate was the only male guest wearing dinner clothes. He had spoiled the effect, however, by wearing a blue-and-white T-shirt under his black tuxedo jacket. And around his neck he wore an immaculate cream-colored ascot scarf.
No. 3. Dirty Jacques Bonin, Biloxi, Mississippi. There was nothing “dirty” about Jacques Bonin's appearance. His suit was flawlessly tailored, and