Read Online Buster Midnight's Cafe by Sandra Dallas - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sandra Dallas
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to say he’d done a good job. Next to May Anna, Toney was the one Buster admired most. Toney knew that, so after a minute or two, he broke into a big grin, and he and Buster hugged each other and pounded each other on the back.
“Buster, you get out of my pants and uncurl your toes, and we’ll all go over to Meaderville and celebrate. I’ll get the purse.” So me and Whippy Bird and May Anna and everybody else climbed back into Toney’s heap, and he drove us to the Rocky Mountain Cafe to spend Buster’s first prize fight winnings.
Even after all that junk we ate at the Gardens, we’d worked up an appetite yelling for Buster, so we all ordered ourselves dinner. We were drinking Shawn O’s, too, except for Buster, who almost never drank. He paid for a round, then he changed his winnings to silver dollars and went over to a slot machine and put in a few. Before you knew it, the bell went off, and there was all this noise just like when Buster floored the Butte Bomber. He won himself fifty dollars.
Buster just couldn’t lose that night’which is what me and Whippy Bird told May Anna when we found out Buster didn’t take her home until 5 A.M. We would have been killed if we’d ever stayed out that late, but I doubt that Mrs. Kovaks ever knew what time May Anna got in.
“Buster,” Chick told him, “I never saw anybody throw a punch like that. You are the new Butte Bomber.”
“Butte Bomber, hell, you’re the new Jack Dempsey,” Pink said. They were falling all over themselves to flatter Buster.
“You aren’t the new anybody,” May Anna said. “You’re better than anybody. You’re you.”
“You’re the champ,” Chick said.
“He’s no such thing. He won one fight against a bum,” Toney said.
It sounded like Toney was pouring cold water on Buster’s win, and we didn’t like that. Even Buster looked unhappy.
“You won one fight in your whole life,” Toney said again. Toney liked the sound of his voice, and he may have realized just then that he wasn’t going to get attention from fighting anymore, so he’d have to get it from talking. “But,” he said, pausing to make sure he had our attention, “you could be a champ.”
We cheered at that. Those Shawn O’s surely had taken effect. We would have cheered to see Buster tie his shoes.
“I know something about fighting,” Toney said, and he stopped, maybe hoping somebody would say you bet you do, Toney. Nobody did, though, so he continued, “And I have never seen a right arm like that.”
Chick pounded Buster on the back, and Pink slapped me on the knee and said, “Natch.”
“If you would be willing to take some instructions from me as your manager and train the way I tell you, I think you can make it as a boxer.” Toney sat back looking important.
Pink called for another round of Shawn O’s and paid for them out of the silver dollars Buster piled up on the table.
Then Toney got serious, like he was finished talking big. He ignored us and turned to Buster. “Kid, I know I can never amount to anything as a fighter. I can win a few bucks and have a little fun, but I don’t have the power. You got the power. You got the cool head, too, which is something else I ain’t got. The thing I don’t know about is do you want to be a fighter, and will you train?”
Buster looked down at his hands and didn’t say anything. The McKnight boys forgot about the rest of us, and we pretended we weren’t listening, though of course we were.
“Well, why not?” Buster said. “What the hell else is there for me in this boob town besides going down in the mines for the rest of my life? You really think I can make it Tone? No shit now.”
“Yeah. But you got to work at it. Every day. I can tell you how. I can even show you some of it, though I never cared enough to work at it much myself. If you’re not going to dedicate your life to it, you say so now so I won’t waste my time. You do it, and you’ll be a champ.”
“He’ll do
“Buster, you get out of my pants and uncurl your toes, and we’ll all go over to Meaderville and celebrate. I’ll get the purse.” So me and Whippy Bird and May Anna and everybody else climbed back into Toney’s heap, and he drove us to the Rocky Mountain Cafe to spend Buster’s first prize fight winnings.
Even after all that junk we ate at the Gardens, we’d worked up an appetite yelling for Buster, so we all ordered ourselves dinner. We were drinking Shawn O’s, too, except for Buster, who almost never drank. He paid for a round, then he changed his winnings to silver dollars and went over to a slot machine and put in a few. Before you knew it, the bell went off, and there was all this noise just like when Buster floored the Butte Bomber. He won himself fifty dollars.
Buster just couldn’t lose that night’which is what me and Whippy Bird told May Anna when we found out Buster didn’t take her home until 5 A.M. We would have been killed if we’d ever stayed out that late, but I doubt that Mrs. Kovaks ever knew what time May Anna got in.
“Buster,” Chick told him, “I never saw anybody throw a punch like that. You are the new Butte Bomber.”
“Butte Bomber, hell, you’re the new Jack Dempsey,” Pink said. They were falling all over themselves to flatter Buster.
“You aren’t the new anybody,” May Anna said. “You’re better than anybody. You’re you.”
“You’re the champ,” Chick said.
“He’s no such thing. He won one fight against a bum,” Toney said.
It sounded like Toney was pouring cold water on Buster’s win, and we didn’t like that. Even Buster looked unhappy.
“You won one fight in your whole life,” Toney said again. Toney liked the sound of his voice, and he may have realized just then that he wasn’t going to get attention from fighting anymore, so he’d have to get it from talking. “But,” he said, pausing to make sure he had our attention, “you could be a champ.”
We cheered at that. Those Shawn O’s surely had taken effect. We would have cheered to see Buster tie his shoes.
“I know something about fighting,” Toney said, and he stopped, maybe hoping somebody would say you bet you do, Toney. Nobody did, though, so he continued, “And I have never seen a right arm like that.”
Chick pounded Buster on the back, and Pink slapped me on the knee and said, “Natch.”
“If you would be willing to take some instructions from me as your manager and train the way I tell you, I think you can make it as a boxer.” Toney sat back looking important.
Pink called for another round of Shawn O’s and paid for them out of the silver dollars Buster piled up on the table.
Then Toney got serious, like he was finished talking big. He ignored us and turned to Buster. “Kid, I know I can never amount to anything as a fighter. I can win a few bucks and have a little fun, but I don’t have the power. You got the power. You got the cool head, too, which is something else I ain’t got. The thing I don’t know about is do you want to be a fighter, and will you train?”
Buster looked down at his hands and didn’t say anything. The McKnight boys forgot about the rest of us, and we pretended we weren’t listening, though of course we were.
“Well, why not?” Buster said. “What the hell else is there for me in this boob town besides going down in the mines for the rest of my life? You really think I can make it Tone? No shit now.”
“Yeah. But you got to work at it. Every day. I can tell you how. I can even show you some of it, though I never cared enough to work at it much myself. If you’re not going to dedicate your life to it, you say so now so I won’t waste my time. You do it, and you’ll be a champ.”
“He’ll do
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