Night Work (14 page)

    As was always the case, an hour or so before the show, the locker room was crowded and chaotic. Charlie and Vincent were busy filling out forms and paperwork with the state officials. Luther was working out angles and finishes for the matches involving under-card wrestlers. The two main event headliners were off in a corner, playing cards with one of the referees, and the doctor was slowly making his way through the long list of physicals. Meanwhile, Frank spoke with the midgets, Little Cowboy Pete, and Kid Ka-bang. "Vincent spoke to you guys, right?"

    Pete smiled, struggling into a pair of small leather chaps. "Yeah. Sorry about the room, boss. We got a little loaded last night."

    "Next time it comes out of your pay," Frank said firmly.

    Kid Ka-bang, a black midget who wrestled in a tiger-skin loincloth, nodded woefully. "It ain't gonna happen again."

    "Nobody else uses you guys as much as I do, right?"

    "That's right," Cowboy Pete agreed. "And we appreciate it, boss."

    Frank lit a cigarette. "You want to go back to doing house shows for the big federations?"

    "Fuck that," Kid Ka-bang laughed. "You get big money but you gotta smoke too much pole for it."

    Pete nodded, slapped his partner on the back. "I heard that, brother."

    Frank smiled. "You know, you'd be just about the right height."

    Little Cowboy Pete shook his head. "Gee, never heard that one before."

    Frank laughed and moved through the room. One of the state commissioners stepped in front of him with a clipboard and a pen. "You doing time tonight?"

    "Yeah."

    He thrust the clipboard at him. "Sign line six and initial lines ten and twelve. Is Charlie doing the ticket count?"

    "No," Frank said, handing the clipboard back to him. "Vin's handling it tonight. Charlie's announcing."

    "Okay," the man nodded. "The doc wants to see you."

    "What's wrong?"

    "No idea. Ask him." The man began conversing with one of the other officials, and Frank quickly made his way across the room to the corner where Dr. Richard Pendleton was hovering over Dean Tate, a wrestler who worked as The Mongolian Crusher.

    "Doc," Frank said with the biggest smile he could muster, "how've you been?"

    Pendelton glanced at Frank without offering any discernable reaction. He was a thin man in his late sixties who seemed perpetually slumped over. His face was creased with wrinkles, his hands covered with liver spots, and his demeanor always cautious and guarded. "Hello, Frank."

    "What's up?"

    "This man can't go tonight."

    Frank looked at Tate, who offered a timid shrug. "Why not? Are you sick?"

    "I feel fine," Tate answered softly.

    "What's the problem, Doc?"

    Pendelton continued filling out a form without bothering to look up from it. "His blood pressure is through the roof. It's no wonder, look at him. He's not an inch over five foot ten and he weighs nearly four hundred pounds."

    "I've been trying to watch my weight," Tate sighed.

    "Hold on," Frank said, mind racing. "Dean, didn't you tell me you just went to your doctor a couple of weeks ago?"

    "Uh-huh."

    "And I thought you said everything was fine."

    "It was."

    Frank turned back to the doctor. "Then there must be some mistake, Doc."

    "There's no mistake. I can't pass this man."

    "I think it might've been the snack food," Tate suddenly said.

    Pendelton looked up from his clipboard. "Snack food?"

    "I slept late this morning," he explained, "and I didn't stop for lunch, so I ate a box of cupcakes I had with me."

    "You ate an entire box of cupcakes?" the doctor asked.

    Tate blushed. "Yes, sir."

    "Just the same, in all good conscience, I can't let you wrestle, son."

    "This'll screw up the whole card," Frank told him.

    Pendelton buried his nose in his paperwork again. "I'm sorry. My decision is final."

    "Doc, I don't have an extra man." Frank looked at his watch. "And it's too late to get somebody down here to replace him."

    "I feel fine," Tate said again.

    Frank waved at him to be quiet. "The guy's zooming on a sugar high, Doc, that's all. He's fine."

    The doctor flashed an angry look. "If this man goes out there and drops dead of a heart attack, do you know who'll be to blame? Do you know who everyone will crucify?"

    Frank knew he was up against the wall; he'd been there before. "Did I mention the ladies are working this card?"

    "I saw the roster earlier."

    "Delta Diamond and Tammy Hawk."

    Pendelton's eyes brightened. "Yes, that's… that's good."

    "Tell you what I'm gonna do," Frank said quietly. "Right now they're down in the other locker room getting ready. I'll go let them know you're working as state doctor tonight; make sure they're expecting you. All I ask is one small favor, Doc. Can you do me one small favor?"

    Pendelton shrugged. "Depends."

    "Wrap that thing around Dean's arm again and give it just one more shot for me. In about two minutes, meet me out in front of the girls' locker room and let me know the results. Whatever you decide we'll live with. Fair enough?"

    "Five minutes," Pendelton grunted without altering his expression. "See that the girls are ready for me."

    Frank left the locker room and headed down the hallway toward the women's dressing area. He'd not yet reached the door when David Delvecchio intercepted him. "Hey, boss, I wanted to apologize about last night, I - "

    "Not now," Frank snapped, continuing past him.

    Delvecchio leaned his emaciated frame against the wall and shook his head dejectedly. He had long stringy hair that he kept pulled back into a ponytail, several colorful tattoos on his forearms and shoulders, a nose ring, and a constant look of confusion and fatigue. He and a crew of two other men were responsible for transporting and constructing the ring at all ECPWL shows. Delvecchio was only in his late thirties but had been in the wrestling business for more than two decades, and was well known as both a reliable ring rat, and a helpless heroin addict.

    One of Benny Dunn's security guards stood poised in front of the women's locker room dressed in a company-issue, bright yellow "security" T-shirt. "They in there?" Frank asked; knocking and entering before the guard even had time to respond. "Incoming, ladies!"

    Delta Diamond and Tammy Hawk were sitting on one of the benches talking above the strains of an enormous boom box. "Frankie," Tammy said, eyes bright. "What's up?"

    He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. "You know how it is, Tam. It's never easy being me. We got a bit of a problem."

    Delta smiled, revealing a beautiful set of teeth, and sauntered over to him. She combed her blonde hair behind her ears with a finger and let her eyes wander seductively down Frank's body. "Tell Mommy all about it."

    Frank lit a cigarette. Dressed in a tank top and skimpy satin shorts, Delta's curvaceous figure was impossible to ignore. "You know Doc Pendelton, right?"

    Tammy, an equally tantalizing dark-complexioned brunette, shook her head. "Christ, not him again."

    "Afraid so."

    "Got an extra butt?" Delta asked. Frank lit one and handed it to her. She inhaled deeply, her eyes never leaving his. "What's that prick pulling this time?"

    "He's threatening not to pass Dean."

    "I wouldn't pass the fat bastard either," Tammy laughed, still straddling the bench. "Imagine trying to find his dick?"

    Frank looked at her. "You're such a prude."

    "So what's the deal?" Delta asked.

    "We're fucked without him."

    Delta glanced over her shoulder at Tammy, who offered a subtle, if not bored nod, then turned back to Frank. "Let me guess. You promised the good doctor a chance to conduct a couple of thorough examinations, right?"

    "What can I tell you?" Frank said, a nervous laugh escaping him. "He's got me by the balls."

    Delta arched an eyebrow. "Lucky guy."

    "Maybe so, but it hurts from where I'm standing."

    "It's supposed to hurt, sugar."

    "Can you help me out or not?"

    "Anything for you, Frankie." She playfully squeezed his thigh. "Just make sure we're on the Christmas list, okay?"

    Frank slipped his arm around her waist and she immediately shifted her full weight against him. "Not a problem."

    Crushing her breasts against his chest, Delta looked up at him like an innocent waif. "You're just the sweetest little thang."

    "I love dementia in a woman. Especially when it's coupled with nymphomania."

    Delta winked. "It's worse than you think."

    "I'll bet it is." He kissed her on the forehead and headed for the door. "Thanks, ladies."

    Pendelton was waiting for him in the hallway. Frank forced a smile and approached him like an old friend. "We're all set here, Doc. You should've seen their faces when I told them you were working - "

    "Cut the horseshit, son," Pendelton cracked. "When do you need them?"

    Frank cleared his throat. "They don't wrestle until after the intermission. That's at least an hour from now."

    "Then I can take my time?"

    "As long as you need."

    Pendelton pulled a form from his bag and handed it to Frank. "Tate's all set."

    "God bless ya, Doc."

    He looked at Frank, his eyes dark. "God's got nothing to do with it, son." Pendelton pushed open the door and stepped into the locker room.

    

    

    Frank found Charlie and Vincent standing in the entrance to the gymnasium watching the fans as they slowly began to arrive. "The early birds landing already?"

    "You look like you're about to have a stroke," Vincent said, only just noticing him. "What are you doing?"

    "I'm working, what the hell's it look like I'm doing?"

    Charlie elbowed Vincent in the side playfully and motioned to two teenage girls who had stopped to ask one of the security people where their seats were. "Get a loada these two."

    "I swear to God," Vincent chuckled, "girls did not look like that when I was in high school."

    "Maybe you should go see if you can help them find their seats," Charlie said. "Tell the one with the cute little ass I'd be more than happy to let her use my face. It's the best seat in the house."

    Vincent moved across the gym and immediately struck up a conversation with the two young women. Charlie and Frank watched for several seconds without speaking. "That sonofabitch is unbelievable," Charlie laughed. "Has he always been like this?"

    "I can't remember him any other way."

    Charlie started back to the locker room. "Come on, let's throw the state boys outta there and make sure everybody's all set. You took care of that thing with the doctor, right?"

    "Yeah. Throw an extra hundred in Delta's envelope."

    "Gotta love that broad."

    Frank stopped him at the door. In the year that they had been working together there had been dozens of parties on the road, but the women always remained segregated from the rest of the troupe. Several stories circulated about Delta and the various partners she worked with, but no one seemed to know for sure what really went on behind closed doors with most of the female wrestlers. "Have you ever partied with Delta or any of the other girls?"

    Something in Charlie's expression revealed he'd been asked that same question countless times. He smiled with his eyes before answering. "Nope, never have."

    "She swings both ways, right?"

    "Most of them do."

    Frank looked around to make sure they were alone. "How come you never hooked up with her?"

    "I don't shit where I eat." Charlie laughed lightly, as if to himself. "You know even though most guys play around on the road, I don't. I couldn't give a shit what other people do, but I decided a long time ago I wouldn't fuck with Delta and those broads. I can't afford to let them hold anything over me, know what I mean? And neither can you."

    Frank shrugged. "I was just curious."

    "Delta likes to play games. You think she don't know how hot she is? You think for a minute she doesn't know she can get you hard just by looking at you a certain way? Sex is her whole fucking act, Frank. She started out as a stripper - same thing with Tammy. Delta even did a few porno flicks in the early eighties, a copy of one of them circulated around the business a year or so ago. I got one at home if you ever wanna check it out." Charlie lit a cigarette and draped his arm around Frank's shoulder. "If you're really looking for a good time, you should check out the party me and the wife are throwing. The weekend after we get back from Indiana we're having some people over. Luther and his wife will be there, and a few other couples. If you want, bring Sandy. You can stay over. Or come by yourself. Either way, we'll have fun."

    "Sounds good." Frank smiled. "Thanks."

    They entered the locker room and ran directly into two of the state officials. "Everything's all set," one of them said. "We're ready whenever you are."

    Charlie glanced at his watch. "Ten minutes."

    While they continued talking, Frank made his way around the room, stopping to chat with most of the wrestlers. Luther was lying across one of the benches relaxing. Frank sat next to him. "Are we cool?"

    "We're cool."

    "Who's the man?"

    "Larry."