They Shoot Horses, Don't They? Read online

  Mrs Layden hesitated a moment, badly rattled, not knowing exactly what she should do or say. But as the audience applauded she took a couple of steps forward, bowing awkwardly. You could see this was one of the biggest surprises of her life.

  ‘You people who are dance fans have seen her here before,’ Rocky said. ‘She is a judge in the derby every night we couldn’t have a derby unless she was here. How do you like the marathon dance, Mrs Layden?’ he asked, stooping down on his haunches and moving the microphone so she could talk into it.

  ‘She hates it,’ Gloria said under her breath. ‘She wouldn’t come to one on a bet, you dumb bastard—’

  ‘I like it,’ Mrs Layden said. She was so nervous she could hardly speak.

  ‘Who’s your favourite couple, Mrs Layden?’

  ‘My favourite couple is No. 22 Robert Syverten and Gloria Beatty.’

  ‘Her favourite couple is No. 22, ladies and gentlemen, sponsored by Jonathan Non-Fattening Beer You’re pulling for them to win, are you, Mrs Layden?’

  ‘Yes, I am and if I were younger, I’d be in this contest myself.’

  ‘That’s fine. Thank you very much, Mrs Layden. All right and now it gives me pleasure to present you with a season pass, Mrs Layden the gift of the management. You can come in any time without paying—’

  Mrs Layden took the pass. She was so overwhelmed with gratitude and emotion that she was smiling and crying and nodding her head at the same time.

  ‘That’s another big moment,’ Gloria said.

  ‘Shut up!’ I said.

  ‘All right are the judges ready?’ Rocky asked, straightening up.

  ‘All ready,’ said Rollo, helping Mrs Layden to a chair in the judges’ row.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Rocky announced, ‘most of you are familiar with the rules and regulations of the derby—but for the benefit of those who are seeing their first contest of this kind, I will explain so they will know what is going on. The kids race around the track for fifteen minutes, the boys heeling and toeing, the girls running or trotting as they so desire. If for any reason whatsoever one of them goes in the pit—the pit is in the centre of the floor where the iron cots are—if for any reason one of them goes in the pit, the partner has to make two laps of the track to count for one. Is that clear?’

  ‘Get going,’ somebody in the audience yelled.

  ‘Are the nurses and trainers ready? Is the doctor standing by? All right—’ He handed the starter’s pistol down to Rollo. ‘Will you start the kids off, Miss Delmar?’ Rocky asked into the microphone. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Delmar is a famous Hollywood author and novelist—’

  Rollo took the pistol to Miss Delmar.

  ‘Hold your hats, ladies and gentlemen,’ Rocky sang out. ‘Orchestra, get ready to give. All right, Miss Delmar—’

  She shot the pistol and we were off.

  Gloria and I let the racehorses set the pace. We made no effort to get up in front. Our system was to set a steady clip and hold it. There was no special prize money tonight. Even if there had been it would have made no difference to us.

  The audience applauded and stamped their feet, begging for thrills, but this was one night they didn’t get them. Only one girl, Ruby Bates, went into the pit and that was only for two laps. And for the first time in weeks nobody collapsed on the floor when the race was over.

  But something had happened that frightened me. Gloria had pulled on my belt harder and longer than she ever had before. For the last five minutes of the derby it seemed she had no power of her own. I had practically dragged her around the track. I had a feeling we had just missed being eliminated ourselves. We had just missed. Later that night Mrs Layden told me she had spoken to the man who had checked us. We had made only two more laps than the losers. That chilled me. I made up my mind then that from now on I had better forget my system and open up.

  The losers were Basil Gerard and Geneva Tomblin, Couple No. 16. They were automatically disqualified. I knew Geneva was glad it was over. Now she could get married to the Captain of that live bait boat she had met during the first week of the contest.

  Geneva came back on the floor while we were eating. She was dressed for the street and carried a small grip.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen—’ Rocky said into the microphone ‘—there’s that marvellous kid who was eliminated tonight. Doesn’t she look pretty? A big hand, ladies and gentlemen—’

  The audience applauded and Geneva bowed from side to side as she walked towards the platform.

  ‘That’s sportsmanship, ladies and gentlemen she and her partner lost a hard-fought derby, but she is smiling—I’ll let you in on a little secret, ladies and gentlemen—’ he moved his face closer to the microphone and whispered loudly: ‘She’s in love—she’s going to get married. Yes, sir, ladies and gentlemen, the old marathon dance is the original home of romance, because Geneva is marrying a man she met right in this hall. Is he in the house, Geneva? Is he here?’

  Geneva nodded, smiling.

  ‘Where is the lucky man?’ Rocky asked. ‘Where is he? Stand up, skipper, and take a bow—’

  Everybody in the audience craned their necks, looking around.

  ‘There he is—’ Rocky shouted, pointing to the opposite end of the hall. A man had stepped over the railing from the box and was walking down the floor towards Geneva. He had the peculiar walk of a sailor.

  ‘Say a word, skipper—’ Rocky said, tilting the microphone stand over.

  ‘I fell in love with Geneva the first time I saw her,’ the skipper said to the audience, ‘and a couple of days later I asked her to quit the marathon dance and marry me. But she said, no, she didn’t want to let her partner down; and there wasn’t nothing for me to do but stick around. Now I’m glad she’s disqualified and I can hardly wait for the honeymoon—’

  The audience rocked with laughter. Rocky pulled the microphone stand upright again. ‘A silver shower for the new bride, ladies and gentlemen—’

  The skipper grabbed the stand, yanked the microphone down to his mouth. ‘Never mind any contributions, folks,’ he said. ‘I guess I’m plenty able to take care of her—’

  ‘The original Popeye,’ Gloria said.

  There was no silver shower. Not a single coin hit the floor.

  ‘You see how modest he is,’ Rocky said ‘But I guess it’s all right for me to tell you he is the captain of the Pacific Queen, an old four-master that’s now a live bait barge anchored three miles off the pier. There are water taxis every hour during the day and if any of you folks want some good deep-sea fishing go out with the skipper—’

  ‘Kiss her, you chump,’ somebody in the audience yelled.

  The skipper kissed Geneva, then steered her off the floor while the audience howled and applauded.

  ‘That’s the second wedding the marathon dance has arranged, ladies and gentlemen,’ Rocky announced. ‘Don’t forget our big public ceremony here next week when Couple No. 71, Vee Lovell and Mary Hawley, will get married right before your very eyes. Give—’ he said to the orchestra.

  Basil Gerard came out of the dressing room in his street clothes and went to the table to get his last meal on the house.

  Rocky sat down on the platform, swinging his legs off.

  ‘Look out for my coffee—’ Gloria said.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Rocky said, moving the cup a little. ‘How’s the food?’

  ‘All right,’ I said.

  Two middle-aged women came up to us. I had seen them several times before, sitting in box seats. ‘Are you the manager?’ one of them asked Rocky.

  ‘Not exactly,’ Rocky said. ‘I’m the assistant manager. What was it you wanted?’

  ‘I’m Mrs Higby,’ the woman said. ‘This is Mrs Witcher. Could we talk to you in private?’

  ‘This is private as any place I got,’ Rocky said. ‘What was it you wanted?’

  ‘We are the president and the vice-president—’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Socks Donald, coming arou
nd behind me.

  ‘This is the manager,’ Rocky said, looking relieved.

  The two women looked at Socks. ‘We are the president and the vice-president of the Mothers’ League for Good Morals—’

  ‘Aw-aw,’ Gloria said, under her breath.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘We have a resolution for you,’ Mrs Higby said, thrusting a folded paper into his hand.

  ‘What’s this all about?’ Socks asked.

  ‘Simply this,’ Mrs Higby said. ‘Our Good Morals League has condemned your contest—’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ Socks said. ‘Let’s go to my office and talk this thing over—’

  Mrs Higby looked at Mrs Witcher, who nodded. ‘Very well,’ she said.

  ‘You kids come along—you too, Rocky. Hey nurse take these cups and plates away—’ He smiled at the two women. ‘You see,’ he said, ‘we don’t let the kids do anything that would waste their energy. This way, ladies—’

  He led the way off the floor behind the platform to his office, in a corner of the building. As we walked along Gloria pretended to stumble, falling heavily against Mrs Higby, grabbing her around the head with her arms.

  ‘Oh, I beg your pardon I’m sorry—’ Gloria said, looking on the floor to see what she had stumbled over.

  Mrs Higby said nothing, looking fiercely at Gloria, straightening her hat. Gloria nudged me, winking behind Mrs Higby’s back.

  ‘Remember, you kids are witnesses—’ Socks whispered as we went into his office. This office had formerly been a lounge and was very small. I noticed there had been very little change in it since the day Gloria and I had come here to make entries for the marathon. The only change was two more pictures of nude women Socks had tacked on the wall. Mrs Higby and Mrs Witcher spotted that instantly, exchanging significant looks.

  ‘Sit down, ladies,’ Socks said. ‘What is it, now?’

  ‘The Mothers’ League for Good Morals has condemned your contest,’ Mrs Higby said. ‘We have decided it is low and degrading and a pernicious influence in the community. We have decided you must close it—’

  ‘Close it?’

  ‘At once. If you refuse we shall go to the City Council. This contest is low and degrading—’

  ‘You got me all wrong, ladies,’ Socks said. ‘There’s nothing degrading about this contest. Why, these kids love it. Every one of them has gained weight since it started—’

  ‘You have a girl in this contest who is about to become a mother,’ Mrs Higby said, ‘one Ruby Bates. It is criminal to have that girl running and walking all day when her baby is about to be born. Moreover, it is shocking to see her exhibiting herself to the world in that half-dressed condition. I should think she at least would have the decency to wear a coat—’

  ‘Well, ladies,’ Socks said, ‘I never looked at that angle before. Ruby always seemed to know what she was doing and I never paid no attention to her stomach. But I can see your point. You want me to put her out of the contest?’

  ‘Most certainly,’ Mrs Higby said. Mrs Witcher nodded her head.

  ‘All right, ladies,’ Socks said, ‘anything you say. I’m not hard to do business with. I’ll even pay her hospital bills …Thanks for telling me about it. I’ll take care of that right away—’

  ‘That isn’t all,’ Mrs Higby said. ‘Do you plan to have a public wedding next week or was that merely an announcement to draw a crowd of morons?’

  ‘I never pulled nothing phony in my life,’ Socks said. ‘That wedding is on the level. I wouldn’t double-cross my customers like that. You can ask anybody I do business with what kind of a guy I am—’

  ‘We are familiar with your reputation,’ Mrs Higby said. ‘But even at that I can hardly believe you intend to sponsor a sacrilege like that—’

  ‘The kids who are going to get married are very much in love with each other,’ Rocky said.

  ‘We won’t permit such mockery,’ Mrs Higby said. ‘We demand that you close this contest immediately!’

  ‘What’ll happen to these kids if he does?’ Gloria asked. ‘They’ll go right back on the streets—’

  ‘Don’t try to justify this thing, young woman,’ Mrs Higby said. ‘This contest is vicious. It attracts the bad element. One of your participants was an escaped murderer—that Chicago Italian—’

  ‘Well, ladies, you surely don’t blame me for that,’ Socks said.

  ‘We certainly do. We are here because it is our duty to keep our city clean and free from all such influences—’

  ‘Do you mind if me and my assistant go outside to talk this over?’ Socks asked. ‘Maybe we can figure this out—’

  ‘…Very well,’ Mrs Higby said.

  Socks motioned to Rocky and they went outside.

  ‘Do you ladies have children of your own?’ Gloria asked, when the door had closed.

  ‘We both have grown daughters,’ Mrs Higby said.

  ‘Do you know where they are tonight and what they’re doing?’

  Neither woman said anything.

  ‘Maybe I can give you a rough idea,’ Gloria said. ‘While you two noble characters are here doing your duty by some people you don’t know, your daughters are probably in some guy’s apartment, their clothes off, getting drunk.’

  Mrs Higby and Mrs Witcher gasped in unison.

  ‘That’s generally what happens to the daughters of reformers,’ Gloria said. ‘Sooner or later they all get laid and most of ’em don’t know enough to keep from getting knocked up. You drive ’em away from home with your goddam lectures on purity and decency, and you’re too busy meddling around to teach ’em the facts of life—’

  ‘Why—’ said Mrs Higby, getting red in the face.

  ‘I—’ Mrs Witcher said.

  ‘Gloria—’ I said.

  ‘It’s time somebody got women like you told,’ Gloria said, moving over and standing with her back to the door, as if to keep them in, ‘and I’m just the baby to do it. You’re the kind of bitches who sneak in the toilet to read dirty books and tell filthy stories and then go out and try to spoil somebody else’s fun—’

  ‘You move away from that door, young woman, and let us out of here!’ Mrs Higby shrieked. ‘I refuse to listen to you. I’m a respectable woman. I’m a Sunday School teacher—’

  ‘I don’t move a — inch until I finish,’ Gloria said.

  ‘Gloria—’

  ‘Your Morals League and your goddam women’s clubs,’ she said, ignoring me completely, ‘— filled with meddlesome old bitches who haven’t had a — in twenty years. Why don’t you old dames go out and buy a — once in a while?

  ‘That’s all that’s wrong with you …’

  Mrs Higby advanced on Gloria, her arm raised as if to strike her.

  ‘Go on—hit me,’ Gloria said, not moving. ‘Hit me!—You even touch me and I’ll kick your head off!’

  The door opened, bumping Gloria away from it. Socks and Rocky came in.

  ‘This this—’ Mrs Higby said, shaking her finger at Gloria.

  ‘Don’t stutter,’ Gloria said, ‘—say it. You know how to say the word. Whore. W-h-o-’

  ‘Pipe down!’ Socks said. ‘Ladies, me and my assistant have decided to take any suggestions you have to offer—’

  ‘Our suggestion is you close this place at once!’ Mrs Higby said. ‘Else we shall go to the City Council in the morning—’

  She started out, followed by Mrs Witcher.

  ‘Young woman,’ Mrs Higby said to Gloria, ‘you ought to be in a reform school!’

  ‘I was in one once,’ Gloria said. ‘There was a dame just like you in charge. She was a lesbian …’

  Mrs Higby gasped again and went out, followed by Mrs Witcher.

  Gloria slammed the door behind them, then sat down in a chair and began sobbing. She covered her face with her hands and tried to fight it off, but it was no use. She slowly leaned forward in the chair, bending double, shaking and twitching with emotion, as if she had completely lost control of the upper half of her body. For
a full moment the only sounds in the room were her sobs and the rise and fall of the ocean which came through the half-raised window.

  Then Socks went over and laid his hand tenderly on Gloria’s head, ‘Nix, kid, nix—’ he said.

  ‘Keep all this under your hat,’ Rocky said to me. ‘Don’t say anything to the others—’

  ‘I won’t,’ I said. ‘Does this mean we’ll have to close up?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Socks said. ‘It just means we’ll have to try to grease somebody. I’ll talk to my lawyer in the morning. In the meantime, Rocky break the news to Ruby. She’s got to quit. A lot of women have been squawking about her—’ He looked at the door. ‘I should have stuck to my own racket,’ he said ‘Goddam bastard women …

  … executed

  and put

  to death …

  chapter eleven

  HOURS ELAPSED: 855

  Couples Remaining: 21

  MARATHON DANCE WAR STILL RAGES

  —————————

  Mothers’ League Threatens Mass Meeting Unless City Council Will Close Contest

  ——————————

  IS THIRD DAY OF CONTROVERSY

  THE MOTHERS’ LEAGUE FOR Good Morals continued their war on the marathon dance today, threatening to take the issue directly to the citizens themselves unless the City Council closes the contest. The marathon dance has been in progress at a beach resort for the past 36 days.

  Mrs J. Franklin Higby and Mrs William Wallace Witcher, president and first vice-president of the Morals League, appeared before the City Council again this afternoon, protesting the continuance of the dance. They were told by the Council that the City Attorney was making a thorough study of the law to determine what legal steps could be taken.

  ‘We can’t take any action until we know how the law reads,’ Tom Hinsdell, Council chief, said. ‘So far we have failed to find any specific statute that covers this case, but the City Attorney is examining all the codes.’