have used his fists, not his mouth.
He was impatient to get started. To wreck Renault in front of everybody, no matter what was written down on the raffle tickets.
And in a corner of his mind, there still lurked the doubt — did Archie have that picture of him in the john, after all?
Chapter Thirty-Six
Those raffle tickets.
Wow! Terrific!
Archie hadn't seen any that had been filled out yet and he stopped one of the guys who'd been recruited as a salesman by Brian Cochran.
'Let's see,' Archie said, holding out his hand.
The kid was quick to comply and Archie was pleased at his submissiveness. I am Archie. My wish becomes command.
The sound of the restless audience in his ears, Archie scrutinized the paper. Scrawled there, the words
That was the simple, stunning beauty of the raffle, the unexpected twist that Archie Costello was famous for, what they always knew Archie could do — top himself. In one stroke, Archie had forced Renault to show up here, to become part of the chocolate sale, and he also placed Renault at the mercy of the school, the students. The fighters on the platform would have no will of their own. They would have to fight the way the guys in the bleachers directed them. Everybody who bought a ticket — and who could refuse? — had a chance to be involved in the fight, to watch two guys battering each other while they were at a safe distance, with no danger of getting hurt. The risky part had been getting Renault here tonight. Once he was on the platform Archie knew he could not refuse to go on, even when he heard about the tickets. And that's the way it worked out. Beautiful.
Carter approached. 'They're really selling, Archie,' he said. Carter appreciated the fight concept. He loved boxing. He had, in fact, bought two tickets and had gotten a kick out of deciding which-blows he would call for. He'd finally decided on a right cross to the jaw and an uppercut. At the last moment, he'd almost assigned the blows to Renault — give the kid a break. But Obie was standing nearby, Obie who stuck his nose in everybody else's business. So Carter had written in Janza's name. Janza, the beast, always ready to jump when Archie said jump.
'Looks like a beautiful night,' Archie said now, smugly, that know-it-all attitude Carter hated. 'You see, Carter, I told you everybody was pushing panic buttons for nothing.'
'I don't know how you do it, 'Archie,' Carter was forced to admit.
'Simple, Carter, simple.' Archie reveled in the moment, basking in Carter's admiration, Carter who had humiliated him at The Vigils meeting. Someday he'd get even with Carter but at the moment it was satisfying enough to have Carter regarding him with awe and envy. 'You see, Carter, people are two things: greedy and cruel. So we have a perfect set-up here. The greed part — a kid pays a buck for a chance to win a hundred. Plus fifty boxes of chocolates. The cruel part — watching two guys hitting each other, maybe hurting each other, while they're safe in the bleachers. That's why it works, Carter, because we're all bastards.'
Carter disguised his disgust. Archie repelled him in many ways but most of all by the way he made everybody feel dirty, contaminated, polluted. As if there was no goodness at all in the world. And yet Carter had to admit that he was looking forward to the fight, that he himself had bought not one but two tickets. Did that make him like everybody else — greedy and cruel, as Archie said? The question surprised him. Hell, he'd always thought of himself as one of the good guys. He had often used his position as president of The Vigils to keep control of Archie, to prevent him from going overboard on assignments. But did that make him one of the good guys? The question bothered Carter. That's what he hated about Archie. He made you feel guilty all the time. Christ, the world couldn't be as bad as Archie said it was. But hearing the shouts of the kids in the bleachers, impatient for the fight to get underway, Carter wondered.
Archie watched Carter drift away, looking troubled and perplexed. Great. Burning with jealousy. And who wouldn't be jealous of someone like Archie who always came out on top?
Cochran reported. 'All sold out, Archie.'
Archie nodded, assuming the role of the silent hero.
The moment was here.
'Archie lifted his head toward the bleachers and it seemed to be some kind of signal. A ripple went through the crowd, a quickening of tempo, a sweep of suspense. All eyes were directed to the platform where Renault and Janza stood at diagonal corners.
In front of the platform stood a pyramid of chocolates — the last fifty boxes. The stadium lights burned bright.
Carter, gavel in hand, walked to the center of the platform. There was nothing to bang the gavel on so he simply raised it in the air.
The audience responded with applause, impatient shoutings, catcalls. 'Let's go,' someone yelled
Carter gestured for silence.
But the silence had already fallen.
Archie, walking toward the platform for a close view of the proceedings, sucked in his breath, as if he were sipping this sweetest of all events. But he exhaled in surprise and stopped in his tracks as he saw Obie walk on the platform carrying the black box in his hands.
Obie smiled maliciously when he caught Archie standing there in surprise, his mouth wide open in astonishment. No one ever surprised the great Archie that way, and Obie's moment of triumph was a thing of beauty. He nodded toward Carter who was on his way to escort Archie to the platform.
Carter had been doubtful about using the black box, pointing out that this was not a Vigils meeting. How can we make Archie try for the marbles?
Obie had the answer, the kind of answer Archie himself would have given. 'Because there are four hundred kids out there yelling for blood. And they don't care whose blood it is anymore. Everybody in the school knows about the black box — how can Archie back down?'
Carter pointed out that there was no guarantee that Archie would pull out the black marble. The black would mean he'd have to take on the position of one of the fighters. But there were five white marbles and only one black marble in the box. Archie's luck had held up throughout his career as the assigner — he had never drawn the black one.
'The law of averages,' Obie had said to Carter. 'He's going to have to draw two marbles — one for Renault, the other for Janza.'
Carter had gazed steadily at Obie. 'We couldn't…?' His voice curled into a question mark.
'We can't fix it, no way. Where could I find six black marbles, for crying out loud? Anyway, Archie is too smart — we could never con him. But we can throw one hell of a scare into him. And who knows? Maybe his luck has run out.'
Thus, the agreement. Obie would emerge with the black box at the moment before the drawings and the fight began. And that's exactly what he was doing now, crossing to the center of the platform as Carter went down to meet Archie.
'You guys are really something else, aren't you?' Archie said, pulling away from Carter's grip. 'I can walk up there alone, Carter. And I'll walk back again, too.'
Archie's fury was a cold hard ball in his chest but he played it cool. As usual. He had a feeling nothing could go wrong. I am Archie.
The sight of the black box stunned the gathering into a silence more deep than before. Only members of The
