PART 10
After the boy has left, Tuffy stands up. He pays no attention to the lock at his feet. It’s getting later; he’s hungry.
Cap is out gathering food. The butcher who’s promised the meat said he could pick it up at seven o’clock so Cap’s scrounging for garbage scraps, something to give Tuffy until the store opens.
Tuffy, in his usual way, his custom of years, goes around the cage, rubbing his sides against the wood and the bars; except for Cap, it’s the closest thing to stroking he knows. When he pushes against the wall with the door, the door swings open.
Usually the door opening either means Cap coming in to clean the cage or time for Tuffy to get into the motorcycle sidecar with Jimmy prodding at him. He takes another tour around the cage before he sticks his head out. The attaching tunnel to the motordrome, Wall of Death, is pushed aside. For the first time in a long time, he’s looking out into open space without bars.
On the right, beside the Wall of Death, is another boardwalk attraction. It’s called Sammy, the Human Fish. Sammy is a man who lost both legs to an artillery shell in the World War. Sammy and Cap are friends; they were in different divisions but shared the knowledge of death. Sammy’s act is to stay under water for from five to seven minutes, performing several tricks, such as pretending to sleep or smoke cigars; standing on his hands, his head. Sammy is about Cap’s age and lives all the year round on the boardwalk. He has a tiny apartment attached to the back part of a small platform, level with the top of the pool in which he does his act.
A market nearby delivers food to Sammy and he has a small dolly-like flat car on rollers he uses to hand-push himself up and down the boardwalk. Sammy rarely, if ever, goes anywhere except along the boardwalk and then usually only off season when the weather isn’t cold and there aren’t too many people.
During the season, he’s busy most of the time giving performances. He gives a performance every half hour, and each performance lasts about fifteen minutes, so that, in season, except for sleeping, really sleeping, Sammy is in the water almost as much as he is out.
Sammy is actually happier, more comfortable in the water. Owing to lack of exercise and also because of the enormous lung and diaphragm development he needs to stay under water so long, he’s huge across the chest and stomach. He has arms stronger than most people’s legs, from pushing himself along on his cart. Even without his flat car, the way he moves is to make fists of his hands, then rest his weight on his fists and swing, sliding the rest of his body along. He’s bald-headed and looks more like an egg than a fish. If ever anyone wanted to make a film of Humpty-Dumpty, Sammy would be perfect.
Sammy is having his breakfast. He’s dressed in a bathrobe cut off just below the waist, and is up on his platform. Behind him is the pool where he does his act. It’s like a large aquarium, twenty feet across, with a glass panel fronting on the boardwalk. The tank is ten feet in depth and the water is also ten feet deep. On the bottom of this tank is specially built furniture: a table, a chair, dishes, a couch, all part of his act, special in that they’re attached to the bottom of the tank and don’t float.
Sammy is, at that moment, pouring some cornflakes into a bowl and has a small can of Sterno heating his coffee. He looks up to see Tuffy slowly padding up specially built stairs, each step wide enough for Sammy to place himself so he can lower his fists onto the next step and let himself down.
Sammy doesn’t know how to react. He likes Tuffy. He’s often talked about him with Cap, and Cap’s always wanted Sammy to come into the cage with Tuffy to see how tame he is. But Sammy has never done it, not so much because he is afraid as because the smell of the lion’s cage would get all over his clothes and hands. At least that’s what he tells Sture.
Sammy hurriedly pours the milk for his cornflakes into a bowl and pushes it with his arm as far forward as possible.
“Here, Tuffy, here’s some milk. Be a nice lion now, drink some milk.” Tuffy continues to advance. He’s curious. He wants to get next to Sammy, maybe be caressed, maybe be fed. Sammy is backing off, using his arms, keeping his eyes on Tuffy. Tuffy sniffs at the milk, the cornflakes, but doesn’t drink or eat. He continues slowly, a slow step at a time toward Sammy. Sammy reaches the edge of his pool and lets himself fall over backward into the water.
Sammy is fighting off panic, trying to conserve his breath, looking out his front glass onto the boardwalk for someone to help him, rolling on his back, looking up, seeing the lion, the paw of the lion in the water. He’s quickly running out of breath, excitement, fear using his oxygen rapidly. Sammy comes up as far from Tuffy as possible. He gulps a breath of air, shouts, breathes deeply again, and goes under water just as Tuffy swings at him, fishing, playing, or hunting.
Sammy comes up twice more, each time shouting, then going under, pressing his face against the glass to see anyone who might be passing by on the boardwalk and be able to help.
Jimmy climbs out of the blankets, leaving Sally’s slack arms. He stands up, slips on his underpants, a pair of work dungarees. He goes outside. He still hasn’t heard Sammy. It might be what wakened him but all he knows is he needs to take a piss.
He goes outside the Wall of Death. He turns and pees against the side, tucks in, swings around, whirls, windmills his arms. He takes a few steps out onto the boardwalk, drops and does ten quick pushups, swings his arms again, starts back.
He sees Sammy in the tank, his mouth against the glass, his hands pounding on the glass to get Jimmy’s attention. Jimmy walks slowly over.
“What’r’ya doin’ down in there, Sam? There’s nobody out here. What the hell.”
Sammy is pointing up desperately. He’s running out of air again. Jimmy looks up, sees nothing. It’s impossible to see Tuffy on Sammy’s platform from the boardwalk unless you look up through the aquarium. He goes closer. Sammy slides to the surface for another breath of air, comes down again. He tries to imitate a lion with his mouth, teeth bared, hands clenched like claws; he points again.
Jimmy looks up through the water, sees Tuffy.
“Holy shit! That bastard lion’s out. Where the hell’s Cap?”
He runs over, opens the door to the pit. He knows Cap isn’t there. He spins around twice. He takes a few cautious steps up Sammy’s staircase, sees Tuffy, tawny back to him, tail twitching, leaning over Sammy’s pool. Jimmy eases himself down the steps again, dashes into the pit, shakes Sally awake.
“That goddamned lion’s out. Where the hell’s Cap? The son of a bitch is trying to kill Sammy! Get dressed, go get the cops, or find Cap, or something.”
Sally stands up, naked, begins pulling clothes on.
“Oh my God! I always knew this would happen sometime. I’m afraid to go out, Jimmy. I’m afraid of Tuffy.”
Jimmy grabs the goad. He’s white with fear. “I’ll hold him off. But for Christ’s sake, hurry! That SOB hates me and I don’t want to be eaten by no fart-faced lion.”
Jimmy goes out. He stands outside the door until Sally appears behind him. Tuffy’s nowhere in sight. Sally slips around the Wall of Death and runs off down the boardwalk.
Jimmy starts up the stairs again to look at Tuffy, the goad held in front of him. Tuffy turns and sees. Jimmy begins backing down the stairs.
Now Tuffy is stalking. He recognizes Jimmy, sees the goad, smells his fear. This is Tuffy’s first experience with prey. He gets down on his stomach, legs tensed to spring, eyes fixed on Jimmy. He begins moving toward him, swinging short swipes at the tip of the goad, growling, coughing in anger.
Jimmy is transfixed at first, then backs slowly away, holding the goad out in front of him.
“You stay away from me, you bastard! God almighty, he’s trying to kill me!”
Tuffy is tensed, snarling, teeth bared.
Jimmy backs down the stairs, the lion just behind him. He wants to get into the pit, but that’s too far. He passes the lion cage and sees the door open. Tuffy’s close enough to attack. Jimmy quickly jumps into the cage and pulls the door shut behind h
im, leaving the goad on the floor outside.
Tuffy stalks around the cage until he’s in front of it. He looks in at Jimmy. He attacks the goad, knocking it around on the wooden floor. Then he stalks back and forth several times as Jimmy cowers at the back of the cage. Tuffy has his eyes fixed on Jimmy. He moves closer to the cage, gets up on his hind legs, reaches in with both paws, tries to swipe at Jimmy. He can’t reach him.
Jimmy screams:
“Help! Help, somebody! I’m going to be killed. There’s an escaped lion and he’s trying to kill me. Help!”
Sally is running along the boardwalk and she sees Cap. She runs toward him hollering. Cap has stopped at the butcher’s so now he has a good load of meat for Tuffy. He starts running toward Sally. There’s no one else on the boardwalk.
“Sally, what is it? What’s happened?”
“Tuffy’s escaped. Sammy’s in the water and Tuffy’s trying to catch him.”
Cap starts running, limping with his heavy sack. Sally runs after him. He turns his head.
“Where’s Jimmy?”
“He’s there. He told me to go get you or the cops. He has the goad and he’s trying to keep Tuffy away from Sammy.”
“Jesus!”
Cap runs hard, not moving fast. He rounds the corner of the Wall of Death and sees Tuffy squatted on his haunches in front of the cage. He stops.
“Tuffy! What on earth are you doing?”
Tuffy turns at Cap’s voice. He cringes, turns his eyes, then his head to the side. He moves away from the cage toward the Wall of Death as Cap approaches. Cap puts down his sack of scraps. He moves toward Tuffy, expecting him to come docilely as usual.
But something has happened in Tuffy’s internal world. He’s more afraid of Cap than glad to see him. He has stalked one of the pride, tried to kill him. He’s confused and dashes past Cap out onto the boardwalk and past Sally, who falls down in her fear, covering her head with her hands, expecting to be mauled, killed. But now Tuffy’s fear is greater than his hunger or new-found hunting instinct. Also he likes Sally; she’s fed him, she’s a member of the original pride.
Cap starts running after Tuffy, then stops, comes back. Jimmy is still in the cage. He comes to the front, peers out. “That bitchin’ lion tried to kill me. He was reaching in this cage trying to eat me. Where is he?”
“He wasn’t trying to kill you, Jimmy. That lion wouldn’t know how to kill a rabbit. But, God damn it, now he’s running down the boardwalk. Somebody’s going to see him and then we’re really finished.”
Sally comes around the Wall of Death. Her knees are skinned. She’s scared, and she runs up to Cap.
“That lion’s running loose; what’re you going to do, Cap? We need help. I’m going for the police. Somebody can get hurt or killed. That lion’s hungry and he’s mad, too.”
Cap starts pulling his motorcycle out from the pit.
“Come on, Jimmy, we can catch him and maneuver him back here into the pit or into the cage. Let’s go.”
Jimmy holds back a minute, looks over at Sally. He doesn’t want to go but he can’t let Cap show him up either.
“O.K., but after this I quit. I’ve had it.”
He dashes in, pulls up his motorcycle. They both kickstart and rev up so they sound like lions up from the pit themselves. Cap leans toward Sally.
“Maybe you’d better go to the police, Sal. Talk to Murph; tell him what’s happened. He’ll try to help.”
With that, Cap zooms off, Jimmy behind him. They roll fast down the boardwalk and spot Tuffy walking along nonchalantly, enjoying freedom, the first he’s had since he was a cub. He turns when he hears the sound of the motorcycles; then he starts running.
As the motorcycles come close, he jumps over the side of the boardwalk down onto the beach, luckily a relatively unoccupied section; it’s still early morning. Cap and Jimmy ride the bikes down a set of steps leading to the beach a little past where Tuffy went over the edge. They start trying to move themselves behind Tuffy, aiming him back up the beach to the Wall of Death. The dry sand is deep; the motorcycles twist and veer. Tuffy is running out toward the ocean. He runs into the surf, turns, and roars.
The cycles move better here down on the hard sand close to the water. Cap and Jimmy, Cap in front, start edging Tuffy back up the beach. Waves crack behind Tuffy. When one wave breaks over his back he turns, roars again, grunts, coughs. It’s a new world to him. He’s wet; his roar is almost lost in the roar of the ocean. The few people on the beach have run for cover, under and past the boardwalk.
Suddenly, Tuffy breaks back toward the boardwalk. Cap and Jimmy take off after him. Tuffy bounds up onto the boardwalk in one leap. Cap and Jimmy roar up another set of steps, barely gaining grip and standing on the footpegs to minimize the shock. At the top they take off after Tuffy.
Cap yells over his shoulder.
“I’ll go on by to turn him back and into the pit. You stay up behind him. He can’t keep running much longer. Lions tire fast. Don’t get too close; just keep him in front of you.”
Jimmy nods. Cap roars off past Tuffy, giving the lion plenty of room so he won’t turn back again. He swings his bike to a stop on the boardwalk in front of Sammy’s place. Sammy is over his pool on the catwalk from where he delivers his spiel to the people. He has a megaphone and starts giving directions to help Cap and Jimmy.
“O.K., Jimmy, don’t go too fast, just putt along behind him slow, but gun your motor if he starts turning. That’s right. Now, Cap, you stay there. He’s turning in. O.K. now, I think he’s in, both of you follow him on in. I think he’s going into the pit. No, he’s stopped. He’s nuzzling at that bag of meat you brought, Cap. I think it’s O.K. Cap, you come on in without the motorcycle and see if you can get him to go into either the cage or the pit. If he comes up here again, I can just drop into my tank.”
Tuffy is waiting at the sack of food when Cap comes up. Jimmy guards the exit on his bike. Cap ruffles Tuffy behind the ear, Tuffy rubs his face against Cap. Everything’s all right again. Cap reaches into the sack and gives Tuffy a half-eaten pork chop. Tuffy holds it in his mouth. Cap looks over at the cage, up at Sammy.
“Did you see the lock to the cage? I don’t see it anywhere. I know I put it back on after I cleaned the cage this morning, but I don’t find it anywhere.
“Well, we’ll have to put him in the pit for now till I find that damned lock. It’s got to be around here somewhere. How in hell did he get out of that cage anyway?”
Cap leads Tuffy by the mane into the pit. He closes and bolts the door behind him.
“I’m gonna head off Sally before she gets to the station. Maybe we can still work our way out of this without any real trouble.”
Jimmy rolls his bike next to the Wall of Death. “Well, that’s it. I’ve had all I’m going to take with that goddamned bush-faced bastard. I’m getting out of here right now and fast.”
“O.K., Jimmy. I don’t blame you. If what you say is true about Tuffy trying to kill you, I’d leave. But, before you go, would you feed Tuffy these things I bought him? Just go up on the catwalk and drop them down. He must be starving; he’s had more exercise this morning than he’s had in years. There’re some scraps, also some liver and lungs and beef hearts I got at the butcher’s; that should hold him. It’ll only take a minute. I want to catch Sally before she gets to tell Murph. No sense having Murph all hot and bothered over nothing. I’ll be back and settle out with you.”
“O.K. But I wish that goddamned animal would start eating itself, beginning with its tail and pulling itself inside out.”
Jimmy takes the sack distastefully, holding it away from his dungarees. Cap kickstarts his bike and zooms around the side of the Wall of Death and off out of sight.
Jimmy starts up the stairs to the catwalk, then comes back. He picks up the goad he dropped in his flight from Tuffy. The door to the cage is open, the lock in the back of the cage, unnoticed.
Jimmy smiles to himself and goes up the stairs two at a time, the sack in on
e hand and the goad held like a javelin over his head to clear the curves of the Wall of Death.
Jimmy opens the sack and pulls out a piece of beef lung. He spears it on the end of the goad, pushing it past the hook (actually, the goad is a grappling hook from a boat), then he lowers the goad over the edge with the meat on its end, dangling, caught behind the hook like a baited line for big-game fishing.
“O.K., furface, how’d you like a piece of meat, real meat for a change, not garbage?”
He dangles it in the middle of the pit. Tuffy looks up. He leaps to hook the meat with his paw, but Jimmy jabs the goad, pokes Tuffy in the face so he falls back onto his side.
“How’d you like that, you stinking son of a bitch? Come on now, be a nice pussy, jump on up and take a bite.”
Tuffy, confused, circles the pit a few times, while Jimmy dangles the meat in the center, taunting him.
Tuffy springs again. Again, Jimmy jabs, catching Tuffy with a stiff poke just under the eye. Tuffy lands on his back, deflected in midspring and off balance.
“That’s it, dummy, break your back. Those claws and those teeth won’t do you no good now. Come on, try and get it. Get your teeth into some of this delicious meat, make hair grow on your chest.”
Tuffy continues to leap, knocked down each time; Jimmy laughing, taunting Tuffy, circling on the catwalk between the lion’s leaps. Bloody spots are appearing on Tuffy’s muzzle; one eye is swollen. Tuffy is more than hungry now; he’s angry, challenged. This is something he’s never known, directed viciousness unmitigated. He circles the pit faster and faster, more cautious with his leaps now. Jimmy is exultant at the top of the pit, enjoying his revenge, circling faster to gain advantage over Tuffy.
Then, who knows by what combination of memory, learning, instinct, experience, desperation, Tuffy begins running faster, at a gallop, in a circle at the bottom of the pit, gaining acceleration, using this acceleration and the centrifugal force it generates to mount higher and higher on the sides of the wall until he’s high enough to lunge, grapple, and scramble himself up onto the catwalk.