Dog Soldiers (24 page)

Lois ignored her, watching Hicks dial Information.

“
He
’
s not there.
”

Hicks stared at her.

“
It
’
s none of my business,
”
he said,
“
but if I know Eddie
he
’
ll be really pissed off if we miss each other. We
’
re pass
ing through in sort of a rush.
”

Lois stood silent for a moment and then hurried out.

Marge sat down and l
eaned her head on her palm, hop
ing that t
he baby would stop crying soon.

“
Jesus, what an ugly room,
”
she said.
“
What an ugly pic
ture.
”

Hicks shrugged.

“
We
’
re making all the rooms,
”
he said, sitting beside Marge.
“
Checking them out.
”

“
Right,
”
Marge said, closing her eyes and leaning on his shoulder.
“
We
’
re passing through in sort of a rush.
”

When Lois came back the baby had stopped crying.

“
Where is she?
”
Marge asked.
“
Didn
’
t you pick her up?
”

Lois looked at her in loathing.

“
I
’
m sorry,
”
Marge said.
“I
don
’
t know what
’
s the matter with me.
”

“
I do,
”
Lois said.

Hicks cleared his throat.

“
About Eddie …
”

“
He
’
s in Gardena.
”
She sounded bitter and weary.
“
They
’
re shooting at the Gardena Auditorium and that
’
s where he is. You can wait down there till he
’
s finished.
”

“
One thing,
”
Hicks said.
“
We
’
d like to use the shower, if that
’
s all right.
”

“
Oh, sure,
”
Lois said disgustedly.
“
Anything you want.
”

Hicks brought some fresh clothes in from the car and they showered in turns. They were very careful to keep the turquoise-colored bathroom dry; they rinsed the shower stall when they were through and put their used towels in a hamper.

Lois was not to be seen as they left, and the baby was quiet.

Before they got into the car again, Hicks took out his knife and pried a Dizzy Gillespie for President sticker off their rear bumper. It had been there for years.

They rode the freeways to Gardena and cruised about to find the auditorium. The streets were dead straight, and the houses were not very large but most of them had little searchlights on their lawns for nightly illumination. There were a lot of poker joints on the business blocks.

Gardena Auditorium was a stucco building adjoining a park, built to resemble Union Station in miniature. Two huge generator trucks were parked in front of the ticket-holders
’
gate.

They had no difficulty getting inside. Wandering across the lobby, they came on a large tiled space surrounded by tiers of benches. In one of the tiers a glum crowd of sixty or so well-dressed people sat listening to a man with a megaphone.

“
We want you to cheer, gang,
”
the man with the mega phone was saying.
“
Please don
’
t groan or scream. If you want to scream, do it outside in the street.
”

A boxing ring and its draped platform had been hauled to the wall opposite the occuped tier. People
in bright cas
ual clothes sauntered abo
ut and lounged on the empty ben
ches. In the center of the space where the boxing ring should have been, there w
ere two camera cranes with tech
nicians standing beside them. At the far end of the place was a table with stacks of what appeared to be box lunches and, beside that, a partitioned area where there were lighted mirrors and barber chairs. Four or five trailers were lined up beside the doors to the lobby.

“
Stand by, gang,
”
the man with the megaphone called.

Marge and Hicks walked closer to the crowd.

The man with the megaphone was watching a small sour-looking man who sat in a canvas chair behind him reading the Daily Variety. After a moment or so the small man looked up from his magazine, flung a hand toward the seated crowd, and returned his attention to the page.

“
O.K., gang,
”
the man with the megaphone cried.
“
Let
’
s hear it!
”

The crowd began to cheer for all they were worth. A camera boom descended on the third row and Hicks saw that Eddie Peace was sitting there. He was in an aisle seat beside two tough-looking men with vaguely familiar faces; Eddie and the two men beside him were the only people in the crowd who were not cheering. On the contrary, they glowered and sneered as though they found the spectacle of the camera, heartening as it was to everyone else, a loath some provocation.

Amid the delirious che
ering there sounded several dis
tinct demented cries. The man in the canvas chair threw his Daily Variety to the floor. He did not look at the crowd.

“
All right,
”
the man with the megaphone called through his megaphone. He waved the cheering down.

“
You bastards who are screaming, please stop! There will be no more screaming!
”
A little flurry of giggles ran through the crowd.

“
Is he there?
”
Marge asked.

“
Yeah,
”
Hicks said,
“
he
’
s there.
”

When the cheering rose
again, Eddie Peace and his com
panions once more regist
ered their anger and disappoint
ment. One of them tur
ned to Eddie and whispered some
thing in his ear. Eddie nodded in a purposeful and sinister fashion, stood up and made his way up the aisle, past the transported multitude. The camera boom tracked him. He had not gone very far when the screaming began again.

“
Shit sake,
”
the man with the megaphone cried. He turned his back on the crowd
and conferred with the sec
ond man.

“
All right,
”
he announced.
“
Is there a union represen
tative present?
”

The crowd stopped cheering. Eddie Peace turned around and shook his head in good-humored frustration.

“
We will take disciplinary action against you screamers. We
’
ll take this up with the union.
”

After some further conversation, he raised his mega phone to announce a break. Hicks walked over to where Eddie Peace was sitting and waved. Eddie
’
s bland eyes turned on him.

“
Whadda ya say?
”
He was wearing a blue blazer and a white polo shirt. He stood up smiling faintly, glanced quickly at the rows of
seated extras above him and ad
vanced warily His hand slid under Hicks
’
arm.

“
Whaddaya need?
”
he asked.

Eddie all the way. Marge came up to look at him.

“
We thought we
’
d give you a buzz,
”
Hicks said.
“
We fell into something.
”

Eddie laughed as though Hicks had told him a joke.

“
Oh, yeah?
”

“
This is Marge,
”
Hicks said.
“
I was telling her about Malibu. About all those wild times out there. We thought we might do something like that again.
”

Eddie looked around again and fixed them with a smile of such singular radiance that he seemed to have obliterated any sensations which might distract him from their welcome presence. Hicks realized that Eddie did not recognize him.

“
Lois said you
’
d be d
own here. I thought we could ar
range a meet.
”

Eddie did not appear to have heard.

“
How you been?
”
He kept right on smiling.
“
What you been doing?
”

“
We been traveling, Eddie. We wanted to say hello.
”

“
Hello,
”
Eddie said to Marge.
“
You stoned, maybe?
”

Marge stepped back in surprise. He was looking at them in turn with his bright smi
le. Each examination was a frac
tion shorter than the last.

“
Ray,
”
he said suddenly,
“
you fucker. How come I didn
’
t know you?
”

“
It
’
s been a while. And I guess you
’
re busy.
”

“
I go to Quasi
’
s now. You know Quasi
’
s? I
’
ll see you there.
”

“
That
’
s great, Eddie.
”

When they turned toward the door Eddie pursued them.

He put a hand around Marge
’
s shoulder and eased between
them.

“
Excuse the vulgarity,
”
he said,
“
you want a blow job?
”

Hicks smiled.
“
I don
’
t want to take any favors.
”

Eddie looked insulted. He inclined his head toward the
trailers.
“
There
’
s a little Heinie for you.
Vos ist lost
?
”
He rounded his lips.
“
Cute.
”

Hicks shook his head goodhumoredly.

“
Better not.
”

“
You dirty rat,
”
Eddie said — and scurried back toward the stands.

Marge and Hicks watched him go.

“
He
’
s a regular lonely hearts club,
”
Hicks said.
“
He loves connecting.
”

They stayed to watch the extras cheer for a while. There was more screaming and more recriminating from the man with the megaphone. Presently a man in a tennis sweater came and stood beside them;
he was carrying a pair of scis
sors in each hand.

“
What kind of a fight crowd is that?
”
he asked them.

As they walked back to the car, Marge asked Hicks what Quasi
’
s was.

“
Quasi
’
s is where we hang now. I guess it
’
s a bar.
”

On the drive back to Hollywood, Marge remarked that
Eddie Peace was an extraordinary fellow.