Tishomingo Blues - Part 8
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Part 8

"You think we have time?"

Across the lawn spotlights came on and Robert said, "There it is," the ladder and tank lit up top to bottom now. He saw Dennis in his red trunks and almost said his name and pointed to him. Instead, he said, "We got time."

Anne said, "It doesn't look so high."

" 'Cause we're as high as it is. Get down on the ground and look up, it's high." She said, "What if Jerry walks in?"

"Put the chain on the door."

"Then he'd know for sure."

"You're in there taking a nap. I'm out on the balcony watching the show. He won't say nothing, he trusts me."

She kept staring at him with those eyes, liking the idea.

"We ever been caught? He trusts me," Robert said," 'cause he needs me to make things happen."

He kissed her on the cheek and said, "Go on get in the bed." She slipped her hand from under his sweater and gave his b.u.t.t a pat as she walked away, Robert looking out at the tank again.

He saw lights come on in the pitching cage, Chickasaw Charlie standing there with a young woman-the TV woman, 'cause now a dude with a video camera had come out of the cage and another one carrying a couple of black cases, yeah, the TV woman's soundman. Now all four of them were heading toward the tank.

Robert looked at his watch. Five of nine, the show in twenty minutes. He walked out on the balcony to stand at the rail and looked down to see a good crowd on the patio having drinks and people straggling out on the lawn and coming out of the trees from the parking lot, some of them carrying their lawn chairs. Chickasaw Charlie was talking to Dennis now in his red trunks, the TV woman and her technicians waiting close by to interview him.

Anne's voice reached him from the bedroom. "Hey-are we gonna do it or not?" Annabanana's Indian love call. It was funny how his mind was always on something else when she called and he always called back, "I'm halfway there, baby."

9.

DENNIS SAID, "I'M STUCK WITH YOU calling the dives again? Tell me you're kidding." Charlie shook his head. "She's too nervous, afraid she'll screw up. You don't know Vernice like I do," Charlie said. "She has to do things her own way, how she's always done it. You give her something different, she gets confused." Charlie stepped to one side then saying, "Dennis, say h.e.l.lo to Diane Corrigan-Cochrane, the anchor lady at Channel Five, the Eyes and Ears of the North Delta. Diane, meet the world champion high diver, Dennis Lenahan." Dennis smiled at her saying, "You ever call dives?" calling the dives again? Tell me you're kidding." Charlie shook his head. "She's too nervous, afraid she'll screw up. You don't know Vernice like I do," Charlie said. "She has to do things her own way, how she's always done it. You give her something different, she gets confused." Charlie stepped to one side then saying, "Dennis, say h.e.l.lo to Diane Corrigan-Cochrane, the anchor lady at Channel Five, the Eyes and Ears of the North Delta. Diane, meet the world champion high diver, Dennis Lenahan." Dennis smiled at her saying, "You ever call dives?"

Diane said, "Like announce what you're doing?"

Quick and perky, a cute blonde not more than thirty in her khaki shorts and white blouse, slim legs, tan feet in sandals.

"All there is to it," Dennis said. "You want to? I think Charlie has the script." Dennis turned to him. "Charlie, please tell me you brought it."

Charlie pulled the script, folded the long way, from his waist in back. "I can help her, show her what to say." He handed the script to Diane. "You read the parts that're checked. Like you tell everybody to stand back from the tank, so they don't get splashed? He's got his dives, what he'll do, numbered, one, two, three. .."

Diane was looking at the script now. "Where will I be?"

"About where you are," Dennis said.

"I won't be on camera, will l?"

"You can have the camera go to you if you want."

She looked up from the script. "You're the show, Dennis, not me. I have a camera on me every day."

He liked her anchor-lady voice, calm and just a touch nasal. She had a cute nose and some freckles, a country girl. "You from around here, Diane?"

"Memphis. I was a deejay with a hard rock station. I hated all that chatter, so I quit."

"I trained as a blackjack dealer once," Dennis said, "but only worked a few days. I didn't like the outfit they made you wear." Letting Diane know he was as independent as she was.

"You'd rather show off your body," Diane said. "Why not? I know the girls think you're hot." She glanced at the script again. "Okay, I'll do it-if I can have a few minutes alone with you first."

"For an interview," Dennis said.

She gave him a flirty look, having fun with him. "What else would I have in mind? I'll ask how you got into high diving. What it's like to go off from up there . . . " He said, "You know what the tank looks like?"

"I'd imagine about the size of a teacup," Diane said, "but save it till we're on." Another teacup. It made him think of Billy Darwin and wonder if she had talked to him. But now she was walking over to the side of the tank, looking at the scaffolding that supported the threemeter board. She turned to him saying, "Is that where the guy was shot? Under there?" Dennis hesitated. "It's what I was told."

She said, "Oh? I thought you were up on the ladder, you saw the whole thing."

"No, uh-unh. Where'd you hear that?"

She seemed to think about it before saying, "Someone heard it in a bar and told someone else. You know, pa.s.sed it along. I'm trying to remember who told me. It might've been someone in the sheriff's office. I talk to the staff there a lot." Diane the TV lady kept staring at him. "If it was true-boy, wouldn't that be a story."

Robert had opened the bottle from the ice bucket and poured two gla.s.ses, Pouilly-Fuisse, Anne's drink. The red was Jerry's. They were on the balcony now, the show already going on. Across the way in the lights, Dennis, in black Speedos, stood on the three-meter board. Over the speakers a woman's voice was telling the crowd, "Next, a three and a half forward somersault ... And there he goes."

Robert said, "How's he have time to do all that in the air?"

"Perfect execution," the woman's voice said. "Wait until he's out of the pool ... Okay, and now let's hear it for our world champion Dennis Lenahan, the pride of the Big Easy, New Orleans, Louisiana, where Dennis prepped at Loyola before turning professional. Dennis is going up to the forty-foot level now. I'll warn you, anyone within ten feet of the tank may be splashed. That will be our splash zone here at Tishomingo Lodge and Casino's inaugural high dive show. Dennis is ready now. And there he goes."

"Beautiful," Robert said.

Anne sipped her wine. "How would you know?"

The woman's voice said, "A beautiful dive, perfectly executed." Robert said, "See?"

"Our champion," the woman's voice said, "is getting ready now for what's called a spotter three and a half."

Dennis was on the three-meter board again, flexing his hands hanging at his sides.

"A spotter is a back somersault to land back on the diving board. And at night, under these lighting conditions, we hope Dennis will land squarely on his feet, for he'll immediately do a forward three and a half, a total of four and a half somersaults in two different directions in the same dive."

Robert said, "Hey, s.h.i.t."

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, the spotter three and a half requires absolute silence."

"Watch," Robert said. And a moment later said, "Man, perfect. Did you see that?"

"He did a back flip," Anne said, "and the same dive he did before."

"You don't appreciate it," Robert said, "keep it to yourself, all right? Dennis is my man."

"I don't get it-like you're a big fan. On the phone, 'Wait till you see this guy.' "

"How many people you know can do what he does?"

"He ever saw what you get into he'd die of fright."

"Listen."

The woman's voice telling the crowd world champion Dennis Lenahan was now going off the very top of the ladder, eighty feet to the surface of the water. "Ordinarily Dennis closes the show with this dive. But because it's opening night you're in for a special treat. Dennis will do his death-defying dive twice. Now, and again at the close of the show." Anne said, "Is he a reenactor?"

"He is, but don't know it yet."

"Wait till you see what I'm wearing. Jerry comes in while I'm packing? 'Where's the hoop for the hoopskirt?' I said, 'Tell me how to get a f.u.c.king hoop in the bag and I'll bring it.' I've never had any intention of wearing a hoopskirt. I haven't told him yet, but I'm going to be a quadroon camp follower."

"Cool. You'll be the show."

"Hang a red lantern on the tent."

"How much you charge?"

"I don't know. What do you think, back then?"

"High-cla.s.s wh.o.r.e? Maybe two bucks. Camp follower? About four bits." He said, "Listen what she's saying."

The woman's voice telling the crowd, "Chickasaw Charlie Hoke, Tishomingo's popular celebrity host, would like to say a few words to you as our champion climbs all the way to the top of that eighty-foot ladder. Charlie?"

Now Charlie's voice came over the speakers.

"Thanks, Diane. Folks, let's give a big hand to Diane Corrigan-Cochrane, the Voice of the North Delta."

"Good crowd," Robert said. "Hundred and a half easy."

"For eighteen years," Charlie's voice told them, "Dennis has been performing as a champion, the same length of time I spent in organized baseball. Like Dennis, ready to bear down wherever and whatever famous sluggers I was facing. While Dennis was showing his stuff all over the world, I was with the Orioles organization, the Texas Rangers, the Pittsburgh Pirates, the De-troit Tigers, Baltimore again, got traded back to De-troit and finished my career with the Tigers in the '84 World Series. When Dennis started out he knew he would never give up till he was a champion in his field. Just as I bore down in the minors striking out some of the biggest hitters in baseball. Al Oliver, Gorman Thomas, Jim Rice. Let's see, Darrell Evans, Mike Schmidt when I was with Altoona, back then throwing ninetyninemile-an-hour fastb.a.l.l.s. Bill Madlock, Willie McGee, Don Mattingly. And I fanned Wade Boggs twice in the longest game on record. Went eight hours and seven minutes. In other words I know and can appreciate what Dennis Lenahan has gone through to get where he's at today." Robert said, "That man is all scam. I can't believe he's never done time."

"You haven't," Anne said. "Or have you?"

"Jail, no prison. Charlie says he's gonna reenact. Wants to be a Yankee this time."

"What about the diver?"

"Gonna be a Yankee."

"But he doesn't know it yet?"

"He don't know s.h.i.t, but he's learning."

"How'd you do with the house-trailer guy?"

"Manufactured homes they're called. Got him lined up."

"You've been a busy boy." Giving him the look again.

They heard the key in the lock as Dennis went off in a flying reverse pike, Robert's eyes glued to him. Two seconds it took? Maybe two seconds falling sixty miles an hour. Robert turned, raising his arm.

"Hey, Jerry, you just missed the eighty-foot dive, man." It seemed strange, seeing him with a beard.

Jerry took a cashier's check from his pocket, laid it on the table and began opening a bottle of red saying, "How do you know it's eighty feet?"

"I either went up there with a ruler," Robert said, "or I counted the rungs. Take your pick. You win?"

"Course I won. You think I'd play if I lose?" He said to Anne, "How you doing, sweetheart?

You show Robert your outfits?"

"I took a nap while Robert looked at the view."

"The show," Robert said, "it's still on." It didn't make sense to him, Anne saying she took a nap, daring Jerry to check the bed for tracks. But that's the kind she was, liked to fool with being caught. So sure of herself she didn't see it: if Jerry ever did walk in on them she'd be the one would have to go.

Robert said, "Listen, I'm gonna leave you all. I told Dennis I'd come by his house for a drink. Wants me to check out his landlady. Says she's fine." It was for Anne, but she wouldn't look at him.

Jerry was shaking his head. "You're crazy, you know it? This whole business."

"You're gonna have some fun," Robert said. "Be like olden times for you." He finished his wine and started for the door.

Jerry stopped him. "Wait. I want to show you my uniform."

They were in Charlie's ten-year-old Cadillac he'd bought used in Memphis, on their way home.

"You did it again," Dennis said.

"What I said out there? I was making the point of what you have to go through to be a winner."

"I've been diving longer'n eighteen years."

"They don't know that. I say eighteen years each, right away it's like I know what you been through."

"Charlie, it was all about you."

"Hey, didn't me and Diane keep referring to you as the world champ? What do you want? All that getting 'em to applaud? You know what I'll never understand? That business about you needing absolute quiet, like a pro golfer getting ready to take his shot, or one of those tennis players you see on TV Somebody in the stands gets up to go take a leak as the guy's servingJesus, he has a fit. You see that in baseball? h.e.l.l no. I'm three and oh on a batter in his home park, I'm trying to concentrate so I don't walk him and the stands are going crazy, banging the seats. How about a batter, full count on him, they're yelling their heads off and the ball's coming at him ninety miles an hour."

"Anything you talk about," Dennis said, "you turn it around to baseball. You hear what Diane said? Somebody told her I was up on the ladder when Floyd was shot? I saw the whole thing?"

"I missed that."

"She said it started in some bar and now it's going around."

"There you are, bar talk."