Arno gave him a fat smile. “You haven't been married long enough or you wouldn't talk like that. Okay, no gals. When we get to the top and you're fighting at the Garden, I'll show you a time on Broadway. Sure like to be in old New York City right now. Look, I'll call for you in a few hours.”
Tommy walked over to May's rooming house and left a note explaining why he couldn't have supper with her at nine. When he came back to the hotel, Arno was waiting. Tommy asked where Jake was and Arno said, “In bed. And he'd better stay there. I wish he had your determination, trained the way you do.”
Actually Tommy hadn't been in a night club more than twice in his life, he was strictly a bar man. Arno was out for a big evening and they visited several spots, watched the floor shows, drank heavily, even had pictures taken toasting each other. Arno was full of corny jokes and stories about the various cities he'd lived in—Havana, Mexico City, Los Angeles, Chicago, New York. Tommy talked about the only thing he knew, boxing... his fight with Robinson. He thought Arno was a hell of a good guy and several times was on the verge of telling him about Alvin and his crazy suspicions.
Arno was drinking Scotch and milk and Tommy was taking his whiskey straight. By two in the morning Arno was still fairly sober while Tommy was nearly stiff. The elevator operator had to help Arno walk Tommy to his room. They dropped Cork on his bed and as Arno loosened his belt and collar, the elevator man said, “He sure is carrying a load.”
“Fighters have to unwind, I suppose,” Arno said. “We'll let him sleep it off.”
“Want me to open the window a crack?”
Arno shook his head. “No, he might catch a cold. All he needs is sleep.”
JAKE
Jake awoke when Arno shook him. It was always hard for Jake to leave sleep. Now, he sat up and thought how old Arno looked, the bloodshot eyes and nose, wrinkles in the doughy face. Then he glanced at his wrist watch, snapped, “What's the matter with you, it's only seven o'clock?”
“Get Tommy on the road. Run the hell out of him. I had him good and crocked last night. He'll want to sleep but talk him into running. He's in bad shape.” Arno yawned. “I'm beat myself. Come on, get going.”
Jake stepped out of bed, shivered with the early morning cold. As he dressed, he watched Arno slip back into the comfort of his bed. On the dresser he saw several pictures of Arno and Tommy drinking in the night spots. “You had a rough night.”
“What?” Arno mumbled, watching him through half-closed eyes.
Jake waved the pictures at him. “You're beat, huh? I bet!”
“Come on, we're on the last lap now,” Arno said, turning his back, but watching Jake in the dressing mirror, “so stop being a dummy. Those photos are a little insurance, in case anything goes wrong, just in case, they're proof of what great pals Tommy and I were. Get going!”
TOMMY
Tommy was sprawled across the bed, still wearing his clothes, including his overcoat and shoes. When Jake shook him Tommy moaned, “Go way.”
“Wake up, Pops.” Jake slapped his face.
Tommy sat up slowly, rubbing his cheek, blinking and trying to swallow the thick taste in his mouth.
Jake was dressed for the road and said, “Come on to the park with me. I don't like to run alone.”
“Not this morning.”
Jake laughed. “Your room smells like an old bottle. Look at you, didn't even undress. I see you're training to be a champ—a champ rummy. I warned Arno you'd never snap out of the bottle. Go back to sleeping it off, old man.” Jake started for the door.
Tommy struggled out of bed. “I'll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes.” Tommy rushed to the bathroom and before he left his room, took a nip to “quiet” his stomach.
They took a long run, Jake full of pep and sarcasm. Tommy kept up with him, his head hurting. He felt exhausted. When they returned to the hotel Tommy breakfasted on a pint of milk and went right to bed. A few minutes later Arno came into his room and asked, “How do you feel after last night?”
“Okay.” Tommy wondered how long he'd slept, didn't know it had been only a few minutes.
“How about sparring a few rounds with Jake? I know you want to take the day off, but just a few rounds. I can't use any other sparring partners—you know.”
“My stomach is kind of upset. I was on the road this morning and...”
Arno's round face showed mild horror. “After last night? What did you run for?”
“I don't know,” Tommy said, trying to collect his thoughts. “Jake asked me to and I did.”
“I want to keep Jake sharp, but we'll skip the sparring. You get your rest.”
“No, no, I'm okay,” Tommy said. “I'll get my things from the gym and meet you guys uptown.”
“Well, if you think you're up to it....”
Tommy grinned. “I'm fine. How soon you want me up there?”
“At noon. And remember, not a word—you know.”
He and Jake went six fast rounds. Tommy was sober and the exercise seemed to give him pep. He jabbed and out-boxed Jake in the early rounds, but began to tire fast after the third round. Arno called out, “Take it easy, Jake,” and Jake never tried to hit Tommy's face, but gave him a hard body pounding. After the fourth round Arno told Tommy, “You'd better knock off for the day. I'll have Jake shadow-box the next couple of rounds.”
“Don't worry about me. I'm feeling fine,” Tommy said, not wanting to admit he was bushed. “I'll go another two rounds.”
After the workout, his body sore, he nearly went to sleep on the rubbing table. Arno asked if his stomach was still acting up and took him to a bar for blackberry brandy and a few drinks.
May was off at six that night and when they met in the cafeteria she sniffed after his kiss, said, “You've been boozing again.”
“Arno took me on the town last night. I told you he's a pal. I bet he spent at least fifty bucks and...”
“I don't care what he spent. Look at you, all pale. You need a good bowl of soup.”
“I don't want any food,” Tommy said, nearly throwing up at the thought. “And stop lecturing me. I've been training so hard I'm stale, needed a few shots. Get a good night's sleep and I'll be tip-top.”
But May kept nagging him about drinking and when was he going to quit Arno. And Tommy was relieved when she said she had a date with Ruth that night. Something about a story Ruth was doing. May was to talk into a tape recorder, or something. May wasn't sure what it was all about. She wanted Tommy to come along, since Ruth wanted to have May talk about the “old days,” but he begged off. After he promised to eat a “decent” meal before going to sleep, she left him.
Tommy stopped for a few beers, still feeling giddy with tiredness, and when he got to his room and undressed, Arno came in with a bottle and they had a few drinks. Arno told Tommy to get some sleep and he'd leave the bottle on the bed table.
Tommy was so overtired he took a few big belts and finished the bottle. The next thing he knew it was noon and the sun streaming through the window was sickly hot on his face. Arno was grinning down at him, fully dressed. Jake was leaning against the door. Arno said, “Get your things on, Tommy. We're leaving town.”
“W-what for?” Tommy's head was full of sickly cobwebs and he kept his hands under the covers because he knew he had the shakes.
“I got a phone call this morning. We got us a fight for tomorrow.”
“Us...me?”
Arno nodded.
“Where?”
“Out of town. Don't worry about the details.”
Tommy tried hard to gather his drunken thoughts.
“I'm not in...”
“You'll be fine by tomorrow. And you don't have to be in shape for this one.” Arno winked at Tommy and put a finger across his lips as he motioned with his head toward the door and Jake.
“Okay... but...”
“But what?” Arno asked abruptly.
“I thought we'd wait for a main event?”
In what was either a whisper or merely keeping his voice low, Arno bent over and told Tommy, “This matchmaker is very hot for Jake, so I figure at this stage, why risk anything going wrong? What if they throw Jake in with a guy who holds all night, and the fight is a stinker? The promoter won't be keen to have Jake back again. We clinch it by you taking a dive—make it look like a fast, clean kayo, in the first round. Then you can claim you never had a chance to get started, ask for a return bout. Perhaps you'll floor Jake first, then he gets up and you dive—slambang stuff. Make the return go a main event. We have a long drive ahead of us.-We'll iron out the details.”
Tommy took a quick cold shower, tried to think straight— with his
