Benotti’s place of work had a listed number but nothing was listed for his home. I knew where he rented space for his shop-in the building of Hough amp; Daly, Electric Supply. That outfit was big, and we dealt with them, and I even knew the night watchman. I drove down to Hough amp; Daly, all shut down for the day. Benotti’s place, a big room off the loading ramp, was also shut tight. I had a two-minute chat about nothing with the old man who watched the plant and the offices, then I left with Benotti’s address.
I went back to the east side. I had to slow down when I got to the neighborhood because it was a warm night and there were great bundles of children all over the street I gave up and parked halfway down the block and walked the rest of it.
All the frame houses were alike. Two stories, porch in front, lawn in front of that, sprinkler going. Or a man in shirt sleeves doing the watering. The house I wanted had nobody in front but I could see the light on the back porch and went there.
They were all in the kitchen, four kids, a fat wife, and Benotti in his undershirt The shirt looked like a joke. The serious part was all the muscle. He had no neck because of the muscles, and his arms showed no bones on account of the muscles. In a suit he might have looked short and fat, but this way I knew better. Nevertheless, I knocked on the screen door.
Benotti got up from the table and came over to see who it was. He peered through the screen like something at the zoo.
“Mister Benotti?” I said. “I’m Jack St. Louis.”
We had never met but he knew who I was. I don’t know how much he knew, but I did not approve of his reaction because he looked at me through the screen and started to laugh. Hahaha, he went and came out on the porch.
“Good evening,” I said.
Benotti turned back to the door and told his kids to stay at the table and to his wife he said that he’d be right back in. No. She needn’t put the food back in the oven.
“Wellsir,” he said to me. “Jack St. Louis,” and looked me all up and down. “You all dressed for the funeral?”
I had thought, on the way over and while cooling off from that last sight of Louie, maybe I’ll just talk to the man, clever extraction of news, background, information. Talk to him and-who knows-maybe we’ll get along. But with his looks and his attitude, I had a hard time with that plan. I waited till he was done laughing again and then I said, “No. I came to talk to you in polite English.”
“He talks fancy, like an actor. May I have your autograph?”
“All right.”
It is a matter of chemistry in the nerves that the other guy can never react fast enough to get out of the way, if you don’t telegraph. I never do. So I gave him my autograph willynilly, very anxious for speed, because I wanted to get two in while the getting was good.
He went ratatat on the clapboard behind him with the back of his head and then he said, fairly loud, “Eat your supper in there! I’ll be right in.”
He was just warning those kids in the kitchen to mind their old man. To me he said, “All right, you.”
I got while the getting was good. I got right back to the porch railing because I don’t like to give a man an advantage, especially if I just hit a man and nothing happens. I got out of the way of his short swing for fear it might break something inside of me, and the next move, if he wanted me, would have to be his.
He came as expected and this time I let him do all the work. He ran into my fist. I thought my wrist would snap. I jumped over the railing. He jumped over the railing.
I was getting worried by now and feeling doubtful, which is the worst state of all. None of the clean tricks had worked, and next he would ruin me.
When he came down I fixed it so he would land on one foot. While he was busy with balance I tried for his face again but with the edge of the hand this time and none of those Queensberry locations. When he ducked away from that he ducked into my knee with a sound like a watermelon. This snapped him back up and when that angle was right I whipped across with one elbow. Benotti said, “Gaa,” or something.
We were both breathing hard but Benotti was down. We had pretty well torn up the flowerbed. He was down and I was up but I couldn’t think of a single damn thing which would sound significant. “Stay away from Louie,” I said, and walked off.
The kids and the mamma were in the kitchen. They were eating, like the old man had told them.