“He’s salivating,” Pitt said. “You don’t think he has rabies, do you?”
“Not a chance,” Beau said. “Of that I’m certain.” Beau cupped the dog’s large head in his hands. “Come on, King. You should be feeling better by now. We need you to cheer us on.”
Beau got to his feet, still gazing at his new companion. “He might be lethargic, but he’s a good-looking dog, don’t you agree?”
“I suppose,” Pitt said. “But listen, Beau. Getting a dog, much less a huge one like this, is an awfully impulsive act, and knowing you the way I do, I’d have to say very unexpected. In fact, from my perspective you’ve been doing a number of unexpected things lately. I’m concerned, and I think we should have a talk.”
“Talk about what?”
“About you,” Pitt said. “The way you’ve been acting, like not going to class. It seems like ever since you had the flu... ”
Before Pitt could finish Rocko had come up behind Pitt and given him a friendly slap on the shoulder that sent Pitt staggering forward several steps.
“Are you dorks going to play or forfeit?” Rocko jeered. “Pauli, Duff, and I have been ready to take you guys to the cleaners for the last half hour.”
“I think we better talk later,” Beau whispered to Pitt. “The natives are getting restless.”
The game commenced. As Pitt guessed, Rocko dominated the play with his bulldozer tactics. To Pitt’s chagrin the burden of covering him had fallen on his shoulders since Rocko had selected to guard Pitt. Every time Rocko got the ball he made it a point to crash right into Pitt before dropping back to put in a jump shot.
Halfway through the game with Rocko et al. in the lead, Pitt called a foul after Rocko purposefully elbowed him in the gut in order to get a rebound.
“What?” Rocko demanded angrily. He threw the ball forcibly against the ground so that it bounced some ten feet into the air. “Is the little chicken-shit going to call an offensive foul? No way. Our ball! No way I’m going to honor a call like that.”
“It’s my call,” Pitt persisted. “I say you fouled me. In fact, it’s the second time you pulled the same cheap trick.”
Rocko stepped over to Pitt and purposefully butted him with his chest. Pitt took a step backward.
“Cheap trick, huh?” Rocko snarled. “All right, tough guy, talk is cheap. Let’s see the crybaby take a swing. Come on! I got my arms at my side.”
Pitt knew better than to get into a fight with Rocko. Others had tried only to end up with chipped front teeth or black eyes.
“Excuse me,” Beau said congenially. He stepped between Pitt and Rocko. “I don’t think this issue is worth any hard feelings. I tell you what. We’ll give up the ball, but we’re going to change who guards whom. I think I’ll take a turn guarding you, Rocko, and you can guard me.”
Rocko gave a short laugh as he looked Beau up and down. Although they were both about six feet, Rocko outweighed Beau by more than fifteen pounds.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Beau asked Pitt.
“Hell no,” Pitt said.
With that settled, the game resumed. Rocko’s thin-lipped, hard face had settled into a slight smile of anticipation. The next time he got the ball, he charged directly at Beau with his heavy thighs pumping.
With uncanny coordination, Beau managed to step out of the way at the instant Rocko expected contact. The result was almost comical. Expecting the collision, Rocko had his torso way out in front of his center of gravity. When no contact occurred, he sprawled on the pavement.
Everyone, even Pitt, winced, as Rocko skidded across the asphalt. He suffered several large abrasions that were liberally sprinkled with embedded gravel.
Beau was at the downed man’s side instantly with an extended hand.
“Sorry, Rocko,” Beau said. “Let me help you up.”
Rocko glared up at Beau. He ignored the gesture for help and got to his feet under his own power.
“Oww,” Beau said with a sympathetic wince. “You got some nasty scrapes there. I think we’d better call the game so you can go over to the infirmary and have them cleaned.”
“Hell with you,” Rocko said. “Give me the ball. We’ll finish the game.”
“It’s up to you,” Beau said. “But it’s our ball. You lost it with your little tumble.”
Pitt had watched this interchange with growing concern. Beau didn’t seem to realize what kind of bully Rocko truly was, and Beau was taunting him. Pitt was afraid the afternoon would end with trouble.
As play resumed Rocko continued to try to use his strong-man tactics, but on each occasion, Beau was able to avoid contact. Rocko fell several more times, which clearly irritated him, and the angrier he got, the more easily Beau was able to deal with him.
Offensively Beau turned into a dynamo. Given the ball he could score at will despite Rocko’s efforts to restrain him. On several drives, Beau had gone around Rocko with such a sudden burst of speed, Rocko was left in the dust with a confused expression. By the time Beau put in the final basket to win the game, Rocko’s face was suffused with an angry blush.
“Hey, thanks for letting us win,” Beau said to Rocko. He stuck out his hand but Rocko ignored it. Rocko and his fellow teammates slunk off to the sideline to towel off.
Beau, Pitt, and Tony walked back to where King was lying in the grass. King seemed even more lethargic than before the game.
“I told you King was going to help,” Beau said.
Tony broke out some cold drinks. Pitt was particularly glad to get some fluid, and despite his panting, downed a can in record time. Tony handed him another.
Pitt was about to start on his second drink when he noticed that Beau was casually staring off at a couple of attractive co-eds coming along the track. They were wearing skimpy running gear.
“Great legs,” Beau said.
That was when Pitt noticed that Beau was not out of breath like he and Tony were. In fact Beau wasn’t even sweating and had yet to take a drink.
Beau caught Pitt staring at him out of the corner of his eye. “Something the matter?” Beau asked.
“You’re not sucking air like we are,” Pitt said.
“I guess I was loafing out there, letting you guys do all the work.”
“Uh oh,” Tony said. “Here comes the Sherman tank.”
Both Beau and Pitt turned to see Rocko sauntering across the court in their direction.
“Don’t taunt him,” Pitt whispered forcibly.
“Who, me?” Beau asked innocently.
“We want a rematch,” Rocko growled when he reached the group.
“I’ve had it for today,” Pitt said. “I’m through.”
“Me too,” Tony said.
“I guess that’s that,” Beau said with a smile. “It wouldn’t be quite fair if I played all three of you guys.”
Rocko stared at Beau for a beat. “You’re mighty arrogant for a little prig.”
“I didn’t say I’d win,” Beau said. “Although I’m sure it would be close, especially the way you guys were playing toward the end of that last game.”
“Man, you’re looking for it,” Rocko snarled.
“I’d rather you didn’t raise your voice,” Beau said. “My dog’s sleeping right next to you, and he’s feeling a bit under the weather.”
Rocko glanced down at King, then back up at Beau. “I couldn’t care a twit about your bag of turd of a dog.”
“Wait a sec,” Beau said. He got to his feet. “I’m a little confused. Are you calling my new dog a ‘bag of turd’?”
“Worse than that,” Rocko said. “I think he’s a f—”
With hand speed that shocked everyone, Beau reached out and grabbed Rocko by the throat. Rocko reacted quickly as well, clenching his left hand into a tight fist and unleashing a powerful left hook.
Beau saw the blow coming but ignored it. It struck him on the side of his face, just in front of his right ear. The sound was a solid “thunk” that made Pitt wince.