Cockfighter - Charles Ray Willeford [27]
I sat down in a straight-backed chair in front of Doc's desk, and surveyed his ratty little office. A single dirty window afforded a close-up of the side of a red-brick movie theater less than three feet away, and the proximity of the building didn't allow much light into the room. Doc probably had to burn his desk and ceiling lights even at midday. Doc's desk was a great, wooden, square affair, and much too large for the size of the room. In front of the fluorescent desk lamp was his carved desk sign: Dr. Onyx P. Riordan, Pres. (and a beautifully carved ornate job it was, too). In addition to his desk there was a low two-drawer filing cabinet, the swivel executive, chair he was sitting in, and two straight-backed chairs. These simple furnishings made the room overly crowded. On the wall behind his desk was a hand-lettered, professionally done poster in three primary colors praising the virtues of a product called Licarbo. After reading the poster I studied Doc's face. He had taken two green dime-store cups out of his desk and was filling them with black coffee.
With his bald head and tonsure of thin, fine gray hair, Doc looked his fifty some-odd years, all right, but there was a certain youthfulness about his face that denied those years. His features were all small, gathered together in the center of a round, bland face. His mouth and snubby nose were small. His blue eyes were ingenuously wide and revealed the full optic circle. With his round red cheeks and freshly scrubbed look, Doc could probably have passed for thirty if he wore a black toupee and dyed his eyebrows to match.
“It's been a long time, Frank,” Doc said sincerely, “and I'm really glad to see you again.” He sat back with a pleased smile. “I want to show you something!”
He began to rummage through his desk. I sipped some coffee and lit another cigarette from the butt of the one I was smoking. The sight of this little hole-in-the-wall office had dashed any hopes I might have had about getting even a portion of my money back from the old pharmacist.
“Read this, Frank!” Doc said eagerly, sliding a letter across the broad surface of the desk. I read the letter. It was from a drug laboratory in New York.
President
Dixie Pharmaceutical Co.
Latham Building
Jacksonville, Florida
Dear Dr. Riordan:
We have made exhaustive tests of your product, LICARBO, at your request, and we agree that it is nontoxic, and that it will provide nonharmful relief to certain types of indigestion, such as overeating, overindulgence, etc.
However, we are not in the market for such a product at this time. Thank you for letting us examine it. Best wishes.
Very truly yours,
The signature was indecipherable, but vice-president was typed beneath the inked scribble. I put the letter down on the desk.
“Do you realize what that letter means, Frank?” Doc said excitedly. “They're interested, definitely interested! They couldn't find a single fault, and do you know why? Licarbo doesn't have any, that's why! I've dealt with companies like that before. They think I'll sell out for little or nothing, but if they want Licarbo, and you can read between the lines of the letter that they're dying to get it, it'll cost them plenty!”
Doc sat back in his big chair, steepled his fingers together, and attempted to look shrewd by narrowing his eyes. His narrowed eyes only made him look sleepy, however.
“Not only do I want a flat ten thousand for my rights, Frank, I'm also holding out for a percentage on every package sold. Now what do you think of that?”
I admired Doc's spirit, but, evidently, he refused to recognize a politely worded turndown when he saw it. I shrugged my shoulders noncommittally.
“By God, I forgot!” Doc snapped his fingers. “You haven't tried Licarbo yet, have you?”
I shook my head. Doc opened the top right drawer of his desk and removed three flat packets approximately the size and shape of restaurant-size sugar packets. The name Licarbo was printed in red ink on each packet, including directions to take as needed, with or without water, following overindulgence, overeating