Ham On Rye - Charles Bukowski [20]
“My father taught me. We practice a lot.”
Then Red walked back and let one sail. It looked to be over my head as I ran back for it. There was a hedge between Red’s house and Chuck’s house and I fell into the hedge going for the ball. The ball hit the top of the hedge and bounced over. I went around to Chuck’s yard to get the ball. Chuck passed the ball to me. “So you got yourself a freak friend, hey, Heinie?”
It was a couple of days later and Red and I were on his front lawn passing and kicking the football. Chuck and his friends weren’t around. Red and I were getting better and better. Practice, that’s all it took. All a guy needed was a chance. Somebody was always controlling who got a chance and who didn’t.
I caught one over the shoulder, whirled and winged it back to Red who leaped high and came down with it. Maybe some day we’d play for U.S.C. Then I saw five boys walking down the sidewalk toward us. They weren’t guys from my grammar school. They were our age and looked like trouble. Red and I kept throwing the ball and they stood watching us.
Then one of the guys stepped onto the lawn. The biggest.
“Throw me the ball,” he said to Red.
“Why?”
“I wanna see if I can catch it.”
“I don’t care if you can catch it or not.”
“Throw me the ball!”
“He’s got one arm,” I said. “Leave him alone.”
“Stay out of this, monkey-face!” Then he looked at Red. “Throw me the ball.”
“Go to hell!” said Red.
“Get the ball!” the big guy said to the others. They ran at us. Red turned and threw the ball on the roof of his house. The roof was slanted and the ball rolled back down but managed to stick behind a drain pipe. Then they were on us. Five to two, I thought, there’s no chance. I caught a fist on the temple, swung and missed. Somebody kicked me in the ass. It was a good one and burned all the way up the spine. Then I heard a cracking sound, it was almost like a rifle shot and one of them was down on the ground holding his forehead.
“Oh shit,” he said, “my skull is crushed!”
I saw Red and he was standing in the center of the lawn. He was holding the hand of his fake arm with the hand of his good arm. It was like a club. Then he swung again. There was another loud crack and another of them was down on the lawn. I began to feel brave and I landed a punch right on a guy’s mouth. I saw the lip split and the blood began to dribble down his chin. The other two ran off. Then the big guy who had gone down first got up and the other one got up. They held their heads. The guy with the bloody mouth stood there. Then they retreated down the street together. When they got quite a way down the big guy turned around and said, “We’ll be back!”
Red began running toward them and I ran behind Red. They started running and Red and I stopped chasing them after they turned the corner. We walked back, found a ladder in the garage. We got the football down and began throwing it back and forth…
One Saturday Red and I decided to go swimming at the public pool down on Bimini Street. Red was a strange guy. He didn’t talk much but I didn’t talk much either and we got along. There was nothing to say anyhow. The only thing I ever really asked him about was his school but he just said it was a special school and that it cost his father some money.
We arrived at the pool in the early afternoon, got our lockers, and took our clothes off. We had our swimming trunks on underneath. Then I saw Red unhitch his arm and put it in his locker. It was the first time since the fight I had seen him without his fake arm. I tried not to look at his arm which ended at the elbow. We walked to the place where you had to soak your feet in a chlorine solution. It stank but it stopped the spread of athlete’s foot or something. Then we walked to the pool and got in. The water stank too and after I was in I pissed in it. There were people of all ages in the pool, men and women, boys and girls. Red really liked the water. He leaped up and down in it. Then he ducked under and came up. He spit water out of his mouth. I tried to swim. I couldn’t help