The Hustler by Tevis Walter

Author:Tevis, Walter
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
ISBN: 978-0-7953-4298-1
Publisher: RosettaBooks
Published: 2014-09-27T16:00:00+00:00

13

He was sitting on a step, his arms hanging at his sides. The step was cold, damp, and he was staring at it, at the dark triangle of concrete between his legs. Actually, he could not see it very well, for the light from the lamp at the street corner was weak. But this did not make any difference. Somebody had hit him in the side of the face, very hard, and now he was sick. The side of his face was sore, but his hands did not seem to feel anything, no pain at all, nothing.

Abruptly, he heard himself speak aloud. What he said was, Anyway, it wasn’t my wrists. He was astonished, for he seemed to have been crying. He remembered now; but he did not lift his hands to look at them. He continued sitting on the step, in front of the door of Arthur’s poolroom. He had beat on the door with his elbows and knees, his shoulders; he remembered all that. And some men had come out, suddenly, and hit him….

After a while he heard someone coming down the street, but he did not look up. And then, in a moment, there was a voice, deep and resonant. “You go home now, boy. They closed.”

He looked up. The man was a young Negro, perspiring and dressed gorgeously in a blue suit, looking at him strangely. He did not say anything and the Negro said, “Boy, you hurt. You go to the doctor.” The man seemed to be swaying gently, and there was a worried look on his dark, shiny face. “Here, maybe you ought to have a drink.” There was something ridiculously like a businessman about the way he pulled a pint bottle from his breast pocket. He opened it and held the bottle while Eddie took a long pull. Eddie wiped his mouth with his sleeve, careful not to look at his hand as he did this.

“Look, mister,” the other man was saying, softly. “You better let me get you to a doctor. You been in some rough company.”

The drink made him feel better. He was uncertain how to stand up; he did not want to push himself up with his hands.

“Help me up, please,” he said.

The Negro helped him up, silently. “I’m all right,” Eddie said. “Thanks.”

The man squinted at him but did not protest. “You go get a doctor. Hear?”

“Sure,” Eddie said. He started walking.

It seemed to be a very long time before he found a taxi. After he got in he had to think for a minute before he told the driver where to take him. Then he gave Sarah’s address. The driver was a young man, and not talkative.

It was a long drive, and when they came into the more brightly lighted part of the city they stopped for a few moments at an intersection. In the weak light that came from the street corner, Eddie lifted his hands to his lap and looked at them.

Oddly, the surprise of them was only slight.

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