Away Games: Science Fiction Sports Stories by Mike Resnick

Author:Mike Resnick [Resnick, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WordFire Press
Published: 2014-10-25T04:00:00+00:00

A Very Formal Affair

Author’s Note: Dance Competition

Another Harry the Book story. When I was going through my backlog, trying to find one more story to fill out this collection, I came across this one and realized that yes, dancing competition is a sport, especially if people bet on the outcome.

I am sitting in my office, which happens to be the third booth of Joey Chicago’s 3-Star Tavern, studying the fight card and wondering if this could be the night Kid Testosterone makes it all the way to the second record before being knocked senseless. Benny Fifth Street is behind the bar, pouring himself an Old Peculiar, and Dead End Dugan, who is still having trouble adjusting to being a zombie, is standing in the corner, staring into space and trying to think a bunch of dead thoughts. Big-Hearted Milton, my personal mage, is in his office in the men’s room, surrounded by black candles, and chanting a curse which was supposed to get Betty Petunia into bed with him but so far has gotten him nothing but a slapped face, a knee in a place that I cannot mention in a G-rated story such as I am relating, and an evening explaining to the police exactly why he was playing itsy-bitsy-spider on her thigh just before she threw the wine at him. (“And it was not the house wine,” he complained in outraged tones when he arrived back at Joey Chicago’s. “It was Chateau Morganschlucker. Do you know what that stuff costs per glass?”)

I have just about concluded that Kid Testosterone cannot last 45 seconds with the Midtown Masher, give or take half a minute, and I am about to turn my mind to serious contemplation of the third race at Aqueduct when Gently Gently Dawkins, all 375 pounds of him, enters the tavern. He walks right up to the bar, grabs a handful of nuts and pretzels, tosses them into his mouth, repeats the procedure two more times, and then addresses the room in general. “Why is Benny Fifth Street behind the bar?” he says. “What hideous fate has befallen our beloved Joey Chicago, and before it happens does he leave the sawbuck he owes me with anyone?”

“Joey Chicago is fine,” says Benny. “He is catering a formal affair across town.”

“Catering?” asks Gently Gently. “You mean like with food and such?”

“These people have already eaten dinner,” answers Benny. “He brings along a dozen cases of his best whiskey.”

“What is the occasion?” asks Gently Gently without much interest, now that the food is off the table, so to speak.

“It is the annual Christmas Eve Dance Contest to benefit the Upper West Side Retirement Home for Warlocks and Witches of Advancing Age,” says Benny. “Though with Joey Chicago catering it, I doubt that any participants will be able to pronounce it by ten o’clock tonight.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” say Gently Gently, walking over and pulling a wad of bills out of his pocket. “Here is ten thousand dollars, Harry.”

I pick it up and start counting it.

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