Percival Everett - Suder

“What?”

“I’m going to have a word with Bill.” I head off to the front door.

“Craig, no.” She’s behind me.

I open the door. “Yes.”

Thelma follows me across the yard and she’s pleading. “No! Please. Nothing’s going on. I swear, Craig.”

“We’ll see. We’ll see.” I ring Bill’s bell.

Bill pulls open the door.

I slap him flat-palmed in the chest and he rocks back. “What’s the story, Bill?”

He looks at me and then at Thelma. “What’s going—”

I interrupt him. “Let’s have it, Bill.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you and my wife.” My hands are in fists.

“Bill,” says Thelma, “I’m sorry. He’s crazy lately.”

I turn to Thelma. “Crazy? I’m not crazy and I’m sure as hell not blind.”

“Let’s talk-” begins Bill.

“Are you ready, Bill?” I ask.

“What for?”

I punch Bill in the face and Thelma jumps on my back. I shake her off and chase Bill across the room and I tackle him. His head hits the doorframe and he starts to bleed.

“You’re crazy!” screams Thelma. “You’re insane!”

I stand over Bill and look down at him. I walk back to my house and collect my record, my phonograph, and my saxophone. I leave home.

Sid Willis is an old fella who used to play ball and he’s got this boat he all but lives on and I decide to look him up. I drive out to the docks and park and take off along the waterfront, carrying my saxophone, phonograph, and record. There are lots of people milling about and buying fish. The air is full of the smell of fish and the shouts of the men selling the fish. I’m walking along, looking out over the Sound, and the sunlight is bouncing off the water and I think it’s real pretty.

There’s a great big tent in this parking lot, like the ones they use at revival meetings. I hear something like a blast from a horn and I think it sounds like an elephant. I walk into the tent and sure enough there’s an elephant. It really smells in the tent and though they got big fans blowing it’s hot and sticky. The elephant lets out another blast. There’s a man standing on a platform next to the elephant and he’s barking like a carnival man.

“Test your smarts! Test your inventiveness! Test your ingenuity!” he shouts. “Two dollars for a chance at five hundred! Two dollars for a chance at five hundred! If you can make the pachyderm jump up from the ground I’ll give you five hundred dollars! Two dollars to try!” He stops and views the crowd. “Test your smarts! Test your …”

People are paying him and walking back to stand in line. These folks are carrying all sorts of things. I’m watching and not really believing it as these people take turns trying to make this elephant jump up. A man with a set of cymbals stands just off to the side of the elephant and slams them together. The elephant doesn’t budge. A kid lights a string of firecrackers and tosses it down by the pachyderm’s feet. No reaction. I watch as an old woman shoves a hatpin into the animal’s hide and I see a little girl let mice out of a shoe box and an old man fire a pistol by one of them giant ears. The elephant doesn’t move a muscle, just stands there.

I turn around and walk out of the tent and back to my car, where I open the trunk and pull out my baseball bat. I stow it under my arm next to my saxophone and I walk back to the tent. I left Thelma pretty suddenly, so I ain’t got no bucks to speak of. I could use the five hundred and I know just how to get it. I pay the woman two dollars and take a place in line. I wait while a number of people try and fail to make the elephant jump.

It’s my turn. I put my saxophone, record, and phonograph down on some hay and take my bat around in front of the elephant. I wave the bat in his face and I walk around to the back of him and I get into my stance, my feet on either side of the big chain attached to his leg. Then I swing like I’ve been given the green light and hit that elephant flush in the balls and he lets out this god-awful trumpet blast and jumps clear off the ground. Everyone is stunned and quiet.

I flip the bat in my hand like a baton and the man from the platform walks over to me. He stands there for a second with wet eyes, just looking at me.

“Well,” I says, “I did it.”

He doesn’t say a word. He just pulls out a great big wad of money and counts me out five hundred.

“Thanks.” I close my fingers around the money and look over at the elephant. The animal is stepping forward and back.

The man turns and walks back to the platform and waves his arms and announces that he is now closed. I put the money in my pants and I pick up all my things and leave the tent.

I walk on down the waterfront and then I see Sid Willis’s boat, The Ugly Lady . Sid is standing on deck and he turns and sees me when I’m halfway down the pier to his boat. A smile comes across his dark face and his eyes light up under that big bush of a eyebrow that stretches across his forehead and the sunlight is playing on his bald top.

“Hey there, Sid,” I says.

“Craig Suder?”

“Yeah.” I stop in front of him.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” He laughs. “Come on aboard, boy.”

I hop onto the boat.

He reaches to grab my hand, but my arms are full. “Put something down,” he says, “so I can shake your paw.”

I put my saxophone and everything down and I take his hand. “It’s good to see you, Sid.”

“It’s good to see you, boy. I’ll be damned. Just come by to chew the fat?”

“No, I’ve come by to see if I can spend a few days with you.”

“You don’t say. Well, damn.” He runs his hand over his head. “I’d be glad to have you. Stay as long as you like. I been needing some company. Well, damn.” He looks out over the Sound. “Want a beer?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on,” he says and turns and goes down a ladder into the cabin.

I follow. “How come you call your boat The Ugly Lady?” I ask.

“Named her after my second wife.” He reaches into the ice chest and pulls out a beer and tosses it to me.

“Thanks.”

He pulls one out for himself. “What you doing here in the middle of the season?”

“Let’s say I’m on vacation.”

“You get axed?”

“No.”

“Slump?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you can stay here as long as you like.” He pulls his hand over his head and rubs the perspiration between his fingers. “Let’s sit up on deck.” We go up on deck and sit down. “What about things at home?”

I question him with my eyes.

“Things at home okay?”

“Fine.” I finish my beer.

“Damn, you went through that fast. Want another?”

I shake my head. “I just thought I’d come by and pay you a visit and maybe sneak some fishing in.”

“Fishing, it is,” he says. “I got some cod in the cooler right now. You want to head out some and poke around for tuna?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” He looks up at the sky. “Well, hell, we couldn’t have asked for a prettier day. What do you say we head out now?”

I nod. “Can I put my things below?”

“Yeah, yeah, make yourself at home.”

I take my things down into the cabin and then I’m back on deck.

“Why don’t you untie that there,” says Sid, pointing to where the boat is tied to the pier.

I do as he says and then he cranks up the motor and we’re off. I climb up the ladder to where he’s steering the boat. I’m looking ahead out the window.

“Not much traffic today,” he says. “I got a great spot.” He pauses and looks at me. “I’ll be damned.” He’s smiling and shaking his head.