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The Radish River Caper

Page 7

by Ross H. Spencer


  Monroe D. Underwood

  The silence in the darkness of Brandy’s bedroom was long and lilac-scented.

  I broke it by saying I have a suggestion.

  Brandy said Purdue I’m always open to suggestions.

  I said that wasn’t what I was going to suggest.

  I said I was going to suggest that we get some sleep.

  I said you see there is so very little to be gained by doing anything else.

  I said we’ve already busted every record in the book.

  I said again.

  Brandy sat up.

  She lit a pair of cigarettes for us.

  She placed our ice-cold glass ashtray in its long-appointed location.

  Right on my navel.

  She said I hate to give up so early.

  She said this may be our last night in Radish River.

  She said the manure is about to hit the fan.

  She said when it does I want you to meet me at the Radish River Drug Store as soon as possible.

  I shrugged.

  I said without packing?

  Brandy said our suitcases will be in the car.

  I said you’re calling the shots.

  Brandy said Purdue if I’m ever going to be right this had damned well better be the time.

  She said it’s possible that I’m verging on a blunder of astronomical proportions.

  I said by the way what the hell could you possibly want with a radio and television business?

  Brandy said I’ll never open the doors.

  She said the Radish River Radio and Television Shop has a chariot that’s eligible for the big race.

  She said that chariot was all I really wanted.

  I said who’s going to drive the damn thing?

  Brandy said I am.

  She said by the grace of God that is.

  I shrugged.

  I said now all you need is a horse.

  Brandy said I have one.

  She said a seventeen-year-old veteran by the name of Lochinvar X.

  She said the old darling used to run at Sportsman’s Park and he won his share.

  I said wouldn’t a trotter or a pacer be better-suited to a chariot?

  Brandy said not to a Roman chariot.

  She said and most certainly not to my purposes.

  I said do you know the first damn thing about horses?

  Brandy said Purdue I was born in Nebraska.

  She said as a kid I finished second in the National Bareback Finals at Omaha.

  I said Brandy I don’t really believe you ever finished second at anything.

  Brandy said well I might have won it but my mare was in season.

  She said so was I.

  I shrugged.

  I said you still are.

  Brandy killed our cigarettes.

  She lifted the ashtray from my navel.

  She said Purdue your perceptivity is little short of breathtaking.

  41

  …peace ain’t nothing but a breathing-spell between wars…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  Saturday dawned a crisp cloudless blue.

  At eight o’clock Mayor Bradford Boone swung open the doors of the Radish River jail.

  Seventy-seven people spilled into freedom.

  There were sixty-five rioters and a pair of kidnappers and three burglars and four rapists and a murderer and a shoplifter and one very pissed-off Radish River chief of police who had been mysteriously missing since Wednesday.

  In the interests of peace the governor of the State of Illinois had mobilized the 000th Field Artillery.

  Twenty minutes following assembly of the 000th Field Artillery there was a riot.

  Among members of the 000th Field Artillery.

  42

  On the seventh day God was just resting

  And for Him that was something right new

  He’d worked like the Devil for six days

  And He’d sure had aplenty to do

  But then as He took it real easy

  He was seized in the grip of remorse

  ’Cause He still hadn’t done nothing perfect

  So He spent that day making the horse…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  By seven that evening the Radish River High School stadium was brimming with wild-eyed locals waving banners that would have appalled the goddess Kali.

  Five chariots were admitted to the grounds at seven-thirty.

  Four represented Radish River businesses and the managements had gone all out to stress those services offered to the community.

  The fifth chariot had been entered by the Radish River Police Department.

  The Radish River High School band blew a long fan-fare and the chariots passed on parade around the track.

  In addition to its driver the Radish River Bakery’s chariot carried a bikini-clad young damsel who would toss doughnuts to the crowd during the great race.

  The Radish River Plumbing Company’s chariot was a bathtub mounted on bicycle wheels.

  The Radish River Funeral Home’s entry was a beautiful thing appropriately draped in black velvet and dark purple crepe and studded with any number of lilies.

  On its left side was a small neatly lettered sign that read WHY NOT GO FIRST CLASS?

  On its right side was another reading DIE NOW PAY LATER E-Z FINANCING AVAILABLE.

  Its driver was a bent and white-bearded old man who carried a large hourglass and a scythe.

  The Radish River Police Department’s vehicle was equipped with flashing lights and a siren.

  It was driven by the Radish River chief of police and accompanied by the entire police force.

  It carried a single sign which said CRIME DOESN’T PAY BUT IT PAYS A LOT BETTER THAN BEING A COP YOU CHEAP BASTARDS YOU.

  As their chariot rolled in review the Radish River policemen circulated through the crowd and passed their hats.

  Their harvest was not particularly bountiful.

  It amounted to one dollar and eighty-nine cents and half of a sauerkraut sandwich and a photograph of a fat woman trying to take her girdle off although there were many who insisted that it was a photograph of a fat woman trying to put her girdle on.

  During these activities somebody broke into the Radish River Bank and made off with thirty-six thousand dollars and a nearly full March of Dimes card.

  The Radish River Radio and Television Shop chariot was painted gold and rigged with speakers and during the parade lap it played the Heidelberg Grenadiers Polka Mazurka and Military Band’s recording of Alte Kameraden at something like fifty million decibles more than the human ear can tolerate.

  The chariots pulled to a stop on the track beyond the north end zone.

  Brandy said it was supposed to play “Over the Waves" but I thought you’d appreciate Alte Kameraden.

  I said I like your Roman toga.

  Brandy said guess what’s under it.

  I said just you.

  Brandy said just me.

  I shrugged.

  Brandy said Purdue meet Lochinvar X.

  Lochinvar X. was a huge bald-faced blue roan with three white stockings.

  His back was swayed and his knees were knobby and his shins bore the scars of the long racetrack years but there was still fire in the old fellow’s eyes.

  I said where did you round him up?

  Brandy said I rented him from a farm family just a few miles out of town.

  She said I left my Porsche as a deposit.

  She said they’ve been using him as a plow horse.

  I said a Thoroughbred pulling a plow?

  Brandy said it was love at first sight.

  She said if we get out of this mess alive I’m going to buy him and put him up in a decent home outside Chicago.

  She said fields of clover and a cold clear stream.

  She said a place where he can dream and hear a friendly word.

  She said Lochinvar X. will have that much from life so help me God.

  She blinked away a
tear.

  Lochinvar X. gave Brandy a great slurping kiss.

  I brushed at my eyes with the back of my hand.

  I said damned dust.

  Brandy said yes isn’t it terrible?

  She said with no wind and after all that rain.

  43

  …witch doctors ain’t doing so well these days…there just ain’t enough sick witches to go around…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  In the locker room the trainer of the Radish River Possumcats said hey Coach where’s the medical alcohol?

  He said I think Blunderfoot got a infection.

  Suicide Lewisite said well if Blunderfoot got a infection it just got to be where Blunderfoot sits down on account of that is where Blunderfoot takes most of his wear and tear.

  He said there’s a jug of medical alcohol in my office.

  The trainer said the jug is there but the alcohol ain’t.

  He said it must of evaporated.

  Suicide Lewisite said yeah well that’s your department.

  He said right now I got to introduce our new chaplain.

  The new chaplain’s name was Witch Doctor Mulugu Ugununu.

  Witch Doctor Mulugu Ugununu stood eight feet tall in his bare feet.

  He wore a zebra skin and there was a bone through his nose.

  He got right down to business by shuffling around and waving his arms and making little grunting sounds.

  Suicide Lewisite watched with obvious admiration.

  He said have you ever met a witch doctor before?

  I said no but I know a couple dentists I’m not so sure of.

  Suicide Lewisite said well this Mulugu Ugununu is a real good one and I understand he’s a lead-pipe cinch to make the Witch Doctor Hall of Fame.

  Witch Doctor Mulugu Ugununu had warmed to his work.

  The tempo had been stepped up and his shuffle had been replaced by kicks not unlike those common to the Charleston.

  Suicide Lewisite said ah ha!

  He said Mulugu Ugununu is preparing to put a curse on the Sycamore Center Ridgelings.

  The dance went on and Mulugu Ugununu had begun to move in a large circle with his hands high over his head.

  It was obvious that something big was in the offing.

  Suicide Lewisite laughed delightedly.

  He clapped his hands and stamped a foot in rhythm.

  As the witch doctor passed in front of us Suicide Lewisite yelled sock it to ’em Ugununu!

  Witch Doctor Mulugu Ugununu let out a bloodcurdling shriek.

  He bounded a yard into the air.

  When he came down he began to pop rapidly around on one foot.

  He cuddled his other foot tenderly to his groin.

  He bellowed several things in his native tongue and two or three in mine.

  All unprintable.

  His eyes were wide open.

  His eyeballs rolled loosely.

  His teeth were bared.

  Slippery Sleighballs said well I don’t know what he’s doing to the Sycamore Center Ridgelings but he is sure scaring the hell out of me.

  Suicide Lewisite was pale.

  He said Holy Christ.

  He said maybe I better stop him before he slaps a curse on the whole goddam country.

  I shrugged.

  I said I noticed that things began to pick up right after you stepped on his toe.

  44

  …when Darwin said man descended from apes the major complaints come from William Jennings Bryan and the apes…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  In the pregame huddle Suicide Lewisite implored his players to give their all for Radish River.

  Zanzibar McStrangle burped.

  The Sycamore Center Ridgelings fanned onto the field.

  The Radish River Possumcats went out to a roar that could have been heard in Yokohama.

  Zanzibar McStrangle lurched toward the football.

  His kickoff landed on the roof of the Radish River Drug Store.

  The game was under way.

  The referee placed a new ball on the Sycamore Center twenty yard line.

  Zanzibar McStrangle picked it up.

  He peeled it and ate it.

  Radish River was penalized fifty yards.

  It was explained that fifty yards was the standard penalty for peeling and eating footballs.

  With the ball on the Radish River thirty yard line Sycamore Center went into punt formation.

  Zanzibar McStrangle grabbed the punter and heaved him into the hotdog stand thereby busting a gallon jar of mustard.

  Radish River was penalized twenty yards.

  Fifteen yards for unnecessary roughness and five yards because mustard is very expensive.

  Suicide Lewisite said I wonder if the Radish River Drug Store sells arsenic in the large economy size.

  I said I rather imagine you’d need a prescription.

  With the ball on our ten yard line Sycamore Center again prepared to punt.

  The punter saw Zanzibar McStrangle coming.

  He threw the ball into the air and ran for his life.

  Zanzibar McStrangle caught the ball and he was in the clear when somebody threw a banana onto the field.

  Zanzibar McStrangle stopped cold.

  He discarded the ball in favor of the banana.

  In the ensuing confusion a Sycamore Center player picked up the ball and ran for a touchdown.

  Suicide Lewisite stared at me.

  He said that medical alcohol didn’t evaporate.

  He said once a monkey always a monkey.

  He said by the way have you heard of any new ways of committing suicide?

  Zanzibar McStrangle had an amazing first half.

  He took no chances.

  He tackled everybody.

  With or without the ball.

  On either team.

  With one herculean effort he tackled both teams and the entire Radish River High School band.

  With another he tackled the officials and seven ushers and four hundred spectators.

  With time in the half running out we were trailing 6-0 and we had lost more than two thousand yards in penalties.

  Suddenly Suicide Lewisite made a wild dash for the timekeeper.

  He grabbed the astonished official’s pistol.

  He tried to shoot himself.

  When the blank cartridge went off both teams headed for the lockers.

  Suicide Lewisite went into the maintenance shed where he attempted to tie a hangman’s noose in a tow chain.

  I stayed behind to watch the big Roman chariot race.

  45

  …I don’t know what aloha oe means in Honolulu but I can sure tell you what jigjig means in Suva…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  The race was to consist of ten laps.

  Brandy and Lochinvar X. had drawn the outside position.

  The chariots broke cleanly enough.

  Brandy checked Lochinvar X. and took him to the rail.

  They went around closely bunched with the funeral parlor driver brandishing his scythe and the scantily attired young thing on the bakery chariot flinging doughnuts in a great many directions.

  As they lit into the second lap the police force chariot opened up a two-length lead.

  In the far turn the plumbing company chariot made a run at the front-runner.

  Its valiant effort to pass on the inside resulted in an utterly horrendous collision that demolished both chariots.

  The plumbing company driver made a breathtaking leap from his doomed vehicle in time to save his life and receive a reckless driving ticket from the Radish River chief of police.

  Midway through the third lap the girl on the bakery chariot uncorked a wild doughnut which struck the funeral home driver squarely between the eyes and rendered the unfortunate fellow instantly senseless.

  The funeral home chariot smashed into a wall and capsized.

  In the pileup the scythe was busted and most of the lilies were ruined.

&n
bsp; Now the race had boiled down to the bakery chariot and Brandy.

  They swept along hub-to-hub with the big crowd whooping it up and the Radish River High School band just blowing the socks off of “El Capitan.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the scoreboard lights flicker briefly.

  I glanced in that direction.

  I stood transfixed.

  From the door of the gigantic scoreboard filed a great many men wearing bright red uniforms and white helmets and carrying sleek automatic rifles.

  My blood ran cold.

  Doctor Ho Ho Ho’s troops were in Radish River.

  I stumbled to the edge of the track.

  I gestured to Brandy.

  I pointed to the scoreboard.

  Brandy nodded and smiled grimly.

  She looked back and winked as her chariot plunged into the turn.

  When the Radish River Bakery entry came by again Brandy was several lengths back.

  At some point in the backstretch she had left her chariot and now she sat firmly astride Lochinvar X.

  The giant blue roan came hammering down the stretch.

  His ears were laid back.

  His white stockings flashed scissors-like as he devoured distance with Triple Crown strides.

  Reflections of the Radish River stadium floodlights flared in his eyes.

  Lochinvar X. was running his last race and he was giving it all he had.

  Brandy Alexander was crouched low over the neck of the ancient warrior.

  She was stroking him and speaking into his ear.

  Her toga was up around her neck.

  There was nothing under it but Brandy Alexander.

  As Lochinvar X. thundered by I saw Brandy reach back to jerk at a strand of leather.

  Suddenly Lochinvar X. was free of the chariot.

  The old campaigner’s head went up.

  He clattered around the bend and made for the backstretch.

  The driverless gold chariot came barreling in his wake.

  As far as the turn.

  At that point it continued straight ahead.

  It jumped a curb.

  It bounded across twenty yards of grass.

  With an awe-inspiring crash it plowed headlong into the front of the magnificent Radish River scoreboard.

 

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