Роберт Паркер - The Boxer and the Spy

“They can’t all be winners,” George said.

Terry nodded. He was very aware that Abby was in the room.

“Try it again,” George said.

Terry tried it again and got two satisfying pops. He was breathing very hard.

“Again,” George said.

Left jab. Bob. Right cross.

“Again.”

Left jab. Bob. Right cross. Terry was gasping.

“Round’s over,” George said. “Take a seat.”

Terry sat down next to Abby. She smiled at him.

“I didn’t realize,” she said, “how hard it is.”

“Hard... for... me,” Terry said.

“Hard for anybody,” George said. “Bobbing and weaving take a lot of energy.”

“It must be much harder if somebody is really trying to hit you,” Abby said.

“Is,” George said. “So you don’t fight until you got all this grooved.”

“But someday you have your first fight, if you’re going to be a boxer,” Abby said.

“You be scared,” George said. “Everybody be scared. Once you got technique, fighting pretty much ’bout controlling fear.”

“But... I mean that sounds right... but there you are and some man is running at you trying to hit you. How...?”

“You keep your feet under you, you keep your stance, you try keep him off with your jab while you figure out what you gonna do. He charging at you and swinging wild, pretty soon he gonna open himself up, or he gonna run out of gas. That be your chance.”

“Could you do that, Terry?” Abby said.

“I... don’t... know.”

“Not yet,” George said. “I believe he got a cool enough head. But he ain’t got enough training. Can’t be thinking about it then. Got to be muscle memory. And you got to be able to trust it. Be a while ’fore we get there.”

Terry’s breathing had calmed.

“But we will,” Terry said.

“Starting now,” George said. “Ding ding. Round two.”

After his session, as he was doing his stretching, Terry said to George, “You ever take steroids?”

George shook his head.

“Used to pop a few NoDoz,” George said.

“You know about steroids?” Terry said.

“‘Nuff to know I don’t want you messin’ with them,” George said.

“I won’t,” Terry said. “Can they make you crazy?”

“Don’t really know,” George said. “Hear a lotta talk about them, don’t know how much is fact.”

“You know anybody takes them?”

“Sure.”

“Does it make any of them crazy?”

“Some of them already crazy,” George said. “Why you want to know?”

“Kid I know committed suicide from taking steroids,” Terry said.

“Oh,” George said, “yeah. Read about that kid. You know him?”

“Yeah,” Terry said. “And I don’t think he was taking steroids.”

George nodded and didn’t say anything.

“Why would anyone take them?” Abby said. “If they’re supposed to be so awful?”

George smiled.

“They may be,” George said. “But everything you hear ain’t for sure so.”

“You mean you don’t think they’re bad?” Terry said.

“I mean I don’t know,” George said. “That the point. People say they bad, but you know lotta people take them, and they don’t seem bad. Say you a fighter. Or a football player, or whatever, and you competing against people who take steroids? And it make them bigger and stronger and faster than you? And you keep losing your fights, or you gonna get cut from the football team? And fighting or football, or whatever, is all you know how to do?”

Terry nodded.

“Maybe you take the chance,” Terry said.

“Maybe you do.”

“You said you never took them,” Abby said.

“Wasn’t around so much when I was fighting,” George said. “By the time they was popular, I didn’t have no need for them.”

“You think you would have taken them?” Abby said.

“I give you a pill that would make you stay beautiful and popular all your life,” George said. “You take it?”

“She don’t need it,” Terry said.

“That’s right, but do she know it?” George said.

Abby smiled.

My God, look at that! Terry thought.

“Do you think you might have a pill like that with you?” she said.

The three of them laughed.

“How old are you, girl?” George said.

“Fifteen,” Abby said.

“Goin’ on thirty-five,” George said.

“You don’t want me messing with ’roids,” Terry said.

“‘Cause you don’t know,” George said.

“I could look on the Internet,” Terry said.

“Uh-huh,” George said, “and you could stop people on the street and ask them.”

“You don’t trust the Web?”

“People get a chance to go on free and say anything they want to? Gonna get a lot of crap on there. ’Scuse me, Abby.”

“Oh I say ‘crap’ all the time,” Abby said.

George grinned at her.

“Hard not to,” he said.

“So how do you find out about stuff like steroids?” Terry said.

“Medical folks, I guess,” George said. “Don’t know much ’bout that. What I know is, until you know what you taking, and why, don’t take it.”

“I heard it could give you acne,” Terry said, “and maybe stunt your growth, and maybe mess up your sex life.”

“Uh-oh,” Abby said.

Terry stared at her.

“What are you uh-ohing about?” he said. “We don’t have a sex life.”

“Yet,” Abby said.

Terry’s face felt a little hot, as if maybe he was blushing. The feeling that he might be blushing made him blush more.

“I guess I won’t go there,” he said.

Abby winked at George. And as they left, they could hear George chuckling to himself.

Wow, Terry thought. Wow!

During free period, Terry went to the health center on the first floor of the high school. The woman at the reception desk had long gray hair and small round glasses with gold-colored frames.

“My name is Terry Novak,” he said. “I’d like to see the nurse.”

“You have a pass?”

“No ma‘am, I’m just looking for information.”

“Have to have a pass signed by a teacher or guidance counselor,” the receptionist woman said, “to see the nurse.”

“I’m not sick or anything,” Terry said. “I just need to ask her about steroids.”

“Not without a pass,” the receptionist said. “School regulation.”

“How ’bout if I got bitten by a rattlesnake,” Terry said. “I still need a pass?”

“Don’t get smart with me, young man,” the receptionist said.

“Wouldn’t do much good,” Terry murmured, mostly to himself.

“What did you say?”

“I said, yes ma‘am, thank you ma’am.”

“This is not an information booth, young man.”

“I can see that,” Terry said.

After the end of classes, Terry went down to the library and began to read in the newspaper files everything he could find about the death of Jason Green. He had left a note, probably typed and printed out on one of the computers in the school library. The note said simply that he was filled with ideas and feelings that he could no longer bear, and it was time to say good-bye. At the end of the note it said, “I love you all,” and his name, typed, not written. He had been in the water for maybe a day, according to the coroner’s office, and his system showed traces of steroids. As he read the accounts in the newspaper files, Terry realized suddenly that nobody at the coroner’s office actually said the steroids caused his suicide. The newspaper stories all sounded as if that’s what happened, and Mr. Bullard had sounded as if that was what happened, but the cops didn’t actually say so, and neither did the medical examiner’s office.