Бернард Маламуд - The Natural

Everybody laughed but Roy.

“I see you met him,” Max said.

Gus winked the glass eye. “We had some dealings.”

“How’d you make out?”

“No evidence. We were acquitted.” He chuckled softly.

Max made a note in his book.

“Don’t write that, Max,” said Gus.

Max quickly tore out the page. “Whatever you say, Gus.”

Gus beamed. He turned to Roy. “How’d it go today, slugger?”

“Fine,” Roy said.

“He got five for five in the first, and four hits in the nightcap,” Max explained.

“Say, what d’ye know?” Gus whistled softly. “That’ll cost me a pretty penny.” He focused his good eye on Roy. “I was betting against you today, slugger.”

“You mean the Knights?”

“No, just you.”

“Didn’t know you bet on any special player.”

“On anybody or anything. We bet on strikes, balls, hits, runs, innings, and full games. If a good team plays a lousy team we will bet on the spread of runs. We cover anything anyone wants to bet on. Once in a Series game I bet a hundred grand on three pitched balls.”

“How’d you make out on that?”

“Guess.”

“I guess you didn’t.”

“Right, I didn’t.” Gus chuckled. “But it don’t matter. The next week I ruined the guy in a different deal. Sometimes we win, sometimes we don’t but the percentage is for us. Today we lost on you, some other time we will clean up double.”

“How’Il you do that?”

“When you are not hitting so good.”

“How’ll you know when to bet on that?”

Gus pointed to his glass eye. “The Magic Eye,” he said. “It sees everything and tells me.”

The steaks came and Roy cut into his.

“Wanna see how it works, slugger? Let’s you and I bet on something.”

“I got nothing I want to bet on,” Roy said, his mouth full of meat and potatoes.

“Bet on any old thing and I will come up with the opposite even though your luck is running high now.”

“It’s a helluva lot more than luck.”

“I will bet anyway.”

Memo looked interested. Roy decided to take a chance.

“How about that I will get four hits in tomorrow’s game?” Gus paused. “Don’t bet on baseball now,” he said. “Bet on something we can settle here.”

“Well, you pick it and I’ll bet against you.”

“Done,” said Gus. “Tell you what, see the bar over by the entrance?”

Roy nodded.

“We will bet on the next order. You see Harry there, don’t you? He’s just resting now. In a minute somebody’s gonna order drinks and Harry will make them. We’ll wait till a waiter goes over and gives him an order — any one of them in the joint any time you say, so nobody thinks it’s rigged. Then I will name you one of the drinks that will go on the waiter’s tray, before Harry makes them. If there is only one drink there I will have to name it exactly — for a grand.”

Roy hesitated. “Make it a hundred.”

Max tittered.

“A ‘C’ it is,” Gus said. “Say when.”

“Now.”

Gus shut his eyes and rubbed his brow with his left hand. “One of the drinks on the tray will be a Pink Lady.”

The way they were seated everybody but Mercy could see the bar, so he turned his chair around to watch.

“Your steak might get cold, Max.”

“This I got to see.”

Memo looked on, amused.

They waited a minute, then a waiter went over to the bar and said something to the bartender. Harry nodded and turned around for a bottle, but they couldn’t see what he was mixing because a customer was standing in front of him. When he left, Roy saw a tall pink drink standing on the counter. He felt sick but then he thought maybe it’s a sloe gin fizz. Harry poured a Scotch and soda for the same tray and the waiter came for it.

As he passed by, Gus called him over to the table.

“What is that red drink that you have got there?”

“This one?” said the waiter. “A Pink Lady, Mr. Sands.”

Gus slipped him a flyer.

Everybody laughed.

“Nothing to it,” said Gus.

“It never fails.” Max had turned his chair and was eating. “Nice work, Gus.”

Gus beamed. Memo patted his hand. Roy felt annoyed.

“That’s a hundred,” he said.

“It was a freak win,” Gus said, “so we will write it off.”

“No, I owe it to you but give me a chance to win it back.” He thought Memo was mocking him and it made him stubborn.

“Anything you say,” Gus shrugged.

“You can say it,” said Roy. “I’ll cover you for two hundred.” Gus concentrated a minute. Everybody watched him, Roy tensely. It wasn’t the money he was afraid of. He wanted to win in front of Memo.

“Let’s play on some kind of a number,” Gus said.

“What kind?”

“Of the amount of bills you are carrying on you.”

A slow flush crept up Roy’s cheeks.

“I will bet I can guess by one buck either way how much you have got on you now,” Gus said.

“You’re on.” Roy’s voice was husky.

Gus covered his good eye and pretended he was a mind reader trying to fathom the number. His glass eye stared unblinking.

“Ten bucks,” he announced.

Roy’s throat went dry. He drew his wallet out of his pants pocket. Max took it from him and loudly counted up a five and four single dollar bills. “Nine.” He slapped the table and guffawed.

“Wonderful,” Memo murmured. “Three hundred I owe to you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“It was a bet. Will you take my IOU?”

“Wanna try again?”

“Sure.”

“You’ll lose your panties,” Max warned.

“On what?” Gus asked.

Roy thought. “What about another number?”

“Righto. What kind?”

“I’ll pick out a number from one to ten. You tell me what it is.”

Gus considered. “For the three hundred?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want me to write the number?”

“Keep it in your head.”

“Go ahead.”

“Got the number?”

“I have it.”

Again Gus eclipsed his good eye and took a slow breath. He made it seem like a kind of magic he was doing. Memo was fascinated.

“Deuce,” Gus quickly announced.

Roy felt as if he had been struck on the conk. He considered lying but knew they could tell if he did.

“That’s right, how’d you do it?” He felt foolish.

Gus winked.

Max was all but coming apart with laughter. Memo looked away.

Gus swallowed his Scotch. “Two is a magic number,” he crooned at Memo. “Two makes the world go around.” She smiled slightly, watching Roy.

He tried to eat but felt numbed.

Max just couldn’t stop cackling. Roy felt like busting him one in the snoot.

Gus put his long arm around Memo’s bare shoulders. “I have lots of luck, don’t I, babyface?”

She nodded and sipped her drink.

The lights went on. The m.c. bobbed up from a table he had been sitting at and went into his routine.

“Six hundred I owe to you,” Roy said, throwing Max into another whoop of laughter.

“Forget it, slugger. Maybe some day you might be able to do me a favor.”

They were all suddenly silent.

“What kind of favor?” Roy asked.

“When I am down and out you can buy me a cup o’ coffee.”

They laughed, except Roy.

“I’ll pay you now.” He left the table and disappeared. In a few minutes he returned with a white tablecloth over his arm.

Roy flapped out the cloth and one of the spotlights happened to catch it in the air. It turned red, then gold.

“What’s going on?” Max said.

Roy whisked the cloth over Gus’s head.

“The first installment.”

He grabbed the bookie’s nose and yanked. A stream of silver dollars clattered into his plate.