Free Control by William Goldman Page A

black man put his lips by the window opening. He whispered, “ I ’ ll take you places you never been. ”
    “ I can ’ t leave the car just now, ” Eric said. “ I ’ m meeting my wife and children here any minute. ”
    “ Roun ’ the worl ’ —over the falls— ”
    Eric made no reply, just watched the Spanish kids tossing their spaldeen. The news dealer with the cane was eyeing them now.
    Eric felt the dark fingers now gently caressing his cheek. He cried out, felt foolish, but there it was.
    “ God sure been good to you, ” the black man said. Then he snaked his thin arm back through the window, looked at Eric for a long moment before turning, walking pridefu ll y back into the bar.
    The crowd at Earl ’ s was even larger now. But the screaming had peaked, and there were no more gun sounds.
    Why did you cry out like a baby? Jesus. A skinny sick guy and you with a right cross that can drop people. With a jab that sets them up and a cross that puts them down. And still you cry out like a jerk.
    More action from Earl ’ s now—people from Eric ’ s side of the street began crossing over in larger numbers.
    Which meant there were very few people left around the newsstand.
    Eric_ watched.
    The two kids were very close to the newsstand now.
    I wish Mr. Haggerty were here, Eric thought.
    The tiny old black newsstand owner glanced around. He busied himself straightening the stacks of papers. But one hand was very tight around his cane.
    The two kids stopped playing catch. One of them tucked the spaldeen into his jeans pocket.
    And now the sidewalk was empty.
    Probably they won ’ t do anything, Eric thought. Probably they ’ re just two kids out for a night on the town. Probably they ’ ll see all the action on the sidewalk across the street and go over and see what ’ s going on. Probably … Probably …
    I don ’ t want to watch, Eric decided and he turned his body away and stared across the street.
    The newsstand was not that far from the car, just up ahead at the corner and Eric had to concentrate very hard on the crowd across the street in order not to be upset by the cry that came, he assumed, from the old man with the cane.
    Now another cry.
    Eric studied the crowd across the street. No one paid any attention to what was happening at the newsstand; no one even turned.
    He ’ d fought enough to know what punches sounded like, and he stared across, listening to the blows coming from the direction of the newsstand.
    Please, Mr. Haggerty, Eric thought. You must hurry.
    Now the sound of a body hitting hard against pavement.
    Eric was burning up in the car, so he pulled his tie off hard and managed to get out of his suit coat. He unbuttoned his shirt at the neck and then when there was nothing more to do, he whirled in the seat and stared front.
    The old man was trying to rise from the sidewalk. His cane was beside him and they had him down and one of them was going through his pockets and as Eric watched a handful of bills came into view and then they were going for his other pockets but they didn ’ t produce much and one of them held him down while the other grabbed some magazines and then they were done and ready to go—
    —but the old man held tight to one of their ankles.
    “ Leave him alone! ” Eric shouted from the car.
    The one with the magazines started off and the one with the money wanted to—
    —but the old man would not release his hold on the ankle.
    The one with the magazines came back and the one who was held tried to kick with his free leg—
    —but the grip remained.
    At least it did until the one with the magazines picked up the cane and brought it down across the face of the old man, and Eric said “ aw shit ” and threw the door open and took off and the kids saw him and took off too, and they could fly and this was their turf and in a blink they were around the corner and tearing up the dark street but they were slow, compared to Eric they were molasses and probably they