Black Sheep
10-31-2003, 02:59 PM
RED BAILEY AND THE PUERTO RICAN (1946)
During the first months as a student at the University
of Miami, Vince Marlo had lived in an Army Air Field
barrack which was used as a temporary dormitory for the
sudden influx of student war veterans after WW II.
When he landed a Job as an Neuropsychiatric Attendant
(N.P. Aid) at the Veteran's Hospital in Coral Gables, he
moved into one of the hospital dormitories.
One evening he decided to visit his old roommates still
living in the Air Field barrack dormitories.
The night of Marlo's visit the barrack was full of ex-
G.I.'s hanging about.
Vince, dressed in sports clothes, entered at one end of
the barrack and was warmly greeted by several students.
At the sight of Vince, John Duffy folded his comic book
and rolled out of his bed to greet his friend.
" Well, hello stranger."
John Duffy spent most of his time on his duff reading
comic books instead of school text books. John's goal in
life was to get passing grades so he could continue
receiving his G.I. stipend of $65.00 a month.
" Hi Duffy. This is my first chance
to visit since I got that job at the
hospital. Let me buy you a beer."
" Your twisting my arm."
Vince and Duffy head for the far end of the barrack
where Red Bailey and Marty Reisner, two weight lifters
were pumping iron.
Marty was of average build with dark curly hair and a
perennial smile stamped on his well proportioned face.
His goal in life was to be a stand-up comedian, and he
memorized hundreds of jokes which he was continually
testing out on anyone within earshot.
Red Bailey was the best built specimen in the complex
with his sixteen inch biceps and barrel chest. Bailey
wasn't really a red head; his short cropped thinning
hair was light blond, however, he insisted on being
called Red instead of Blondy. With his imposing build
and quick temper, he always had his way.
As Vince and Duffy passed the two weight lifters, Duffy
stoped by Marty and Red Bailey.
" Hey Red ! Marty ! Lets soak up
some suds at the Airport Terminal."
Marty dropped his weights and turned toward Vince.
" Hey Vince ! Did you hear the joke
about the Rabbi and the priest ?"
Duffy pulls Marty by the arm toward the door.
" Come on. Tell it on the way to the
airport lounge."
The four war veterans, all in their mid-twenties, go out
into the dark, cut across the open field and head for
the brightly lit Airport Terminal about a mile away.
It was a new moon, but a starry sky shed enough light
for the foursome to pick their way through the landscape
of tropical vegetation. The Airport Terminal acted as a
beacon to guide them to their Port-o-Call.
All along the way Marty recited his repertoire of jokes
about an Irishman an Italian and a Jew. Of course,
Marty, being Jewish made the Italian and the Irishmen
the butt of all the jokes. Red and Duffy being Irish and
Vince being Italian took the ethnic jokes in good humor,
insisting the jokes were being turned around, and that
the Jew should be the buffoon.
Of the three companions, Vince was closest to Duffy
with whom he had spent much time trying to help with his
studies, but it was a futile effort. John was not the
academic type and was doomed to fail college and would
end up in a trade school of some sort in New England.
But tonight the mood was light and the evening was
young, and with the exuberance of healthy adventurous
animals, they raced the last hundred yards to the
terminal, in an effort to get away from Marty's
incessant jokes.
Trailing behind Marty yelled, " Hey You guys never heard
this one about the Irishman, the Italian and the Jew in
a rowboat in the middle of the ocean without a compass."
Marty's joke faded into the night as his three
companions drowned the punch line with their laughter,
racing toward the terminal.
In those years immediately following the War, there was
a large number of Puerto Ricans relocating in New York.
The Airport Terminal in Coral Gables was the first
layover on the flight from the Island to the Big Apple.
As Red, Vince and Duffy, entered the Terminal
Building, out of breath and laughing, they found the
spacious waiting room crowded with the latest group of
Puerto Rican transients.
One side of the room was brightly lit with concession
counters displaying glittering jewelry, perfumes and
souvenirs of all sorts under large plate glass
showcases.
Along the opposite wall, some fifty feet away, were
about 200 Puerto Ricans with their baggage, filling all
the benches and overflowing onto the floor, seated
against the wall opposite the commercial counters.
The contrast of the brightly lit concessions with their
elegant gold and silver displays rang with an ironic
incongruity against the indigent, tired looking
travelers piled in groups along the opposite wall like
dusty old rag-dolls in a dimly lit attic.
Ignoring the immigrants, Duffy turned to Vince.
" Marty thinks he's going to be a
stand-up comedian."
" He does make me laugh, though.
Here comes the joker now."
Marty enters smiling and out of breath. He pulls out a
joke book from his pocket and thumbs to a given page.
" Here's a joke you guys haven't
heard..."
Red interrupts Marty sullenly.
" Let's go to the bar."
As the group begins to cross the waiting room with Red
strutting in the lead, a dark skinned, undernourished,
young Puerto Rican man, happens to cross in front of
Red's path. Red reaches out and rudely grabs the young
man by the arm and jerks him around so they are facing
each other.
" Where dee hell do you think
you're going, Spick ?"
Vince, Marty and Duffy stop in dead in their tracks, as
though a martial command had been given to Halt !.
The group of immigrants crowded to one side of the
room, riveted their dark eyes on one focal point.
Red continued to rudely jerk the young man about.
" Why don't you dirty spicks stay
where you belong ?"
With these last words Red shoves the man to the ground
who falls to one knee as though in prayer.
Bailey, with his fair Nordic looks, his clean shaven
well nourished face and athletic build, stood with legs
apart and his fists on his hips. Like a replica of 'El
Duce' Mussolini, Red's jutting chin and his expression
of disdain lords it over the curly headed 'Ethiopian'
who cowers below him in a posture of submission.
The young man who appears more like a teenager with his
slight undernourished build, looks up fearfully out of
wide open black eyes, speechless either out of fear or
not understanding the sudden violence he is being
subjected to.
All the Puerto Ricans moved restlessly as they
witnessed the Blond muscle man physically abusing their
unfortunate compatriot.
Vince, realizing Bailey had no intention of stopping his
physical abuse, stepped up between Red and the Puerto
Rican. In a gentle, calm voice Vince appeals to Red.
" Leave the guy alone, Red. He's not
bothering anyone."
As the Puerto Rican slipped away, the atmosphere became
intensely silent. Red's mouth slowly twisted into a
cruel smile as his fair skin flushed pink with anger,
and before Vince's eyes, Red is transformed into a
ferocious looking animal with eyes popping out and his
body trembling eagerly for a fight.
" I've been waiting for you to open
your big mouth, you son-of-a-bitch.
Now I'm going to kick your ass."
" Take it easy, Red. I don't want
to fight you. Come on. Let's get
that beer and forget about the
whole thing."
" I've seen you leaving the Copa
with Doris after hours. She's my
girl. You chicken-**** little pimp.
I'm going to tear your *******
inside out. "
Unknown to Vince, Red had been dating Doris Markley, a
chorus girl from the Copacubana in Miami Beach until
Vince came on the scene, and then Doris dropped Bailey
like a lead balloon.
" Red I never knew she was your
girl. Doris never mentioned you. "
As usual with bullies, the weaker their opponent
appeared, the more brazen they get. Vince's reluctance
to fight only fired Bailey to a higher frenzy.
"You've been cutting into my
territory. Doris is my girl, and I'm
going to teach you to stay away from
her from now on."
Vince made a quick silent decision.
" I can stand here and let Red
beat up on me, or I can get in one
good punch before he starts."
As Bailey raised his hand to push Vince, Vince not
wanting to miss Bailey's mouth, reached out with his
left hand and held Red's by the back of his thick neck
and quickly followed with a right fist full force into
Red's mouth, and the melee was on.
Bailey, stunned by the punch, staggered back a couple of
steps with a surprised look on his face that quickly
changed to a raging snarl. Red threw up his arms like
two giant horns and charged Vince like a bull.
Locking his arms around Vince's waist and lifting him
off the ground, Red carried him toward the large glass
display counter filled with souvenirs and thrashed
Vince's back across the display case with such force
that the counter was demolished completely with
shattered glass splattering all over the place.
How Vince survived the body slam across the glass
display counter without receiving an injury was a
miracle. Perhaps the crumbling glass under his back
acted like a cushion and reduced the force of the slam.
In any event, both men pick themselves off the ground
which was strewn with shattered glass, broken wood and
valuable souvenirs. Neither one of them have a scratch,
except for Red's mouth which was bleeding from
Vince's initial punch.
Vince had assumed that the physical destruction of the
souvenir display case ended the fight, but Bailey wiped
his hand over his bloody mouth, took a look at his
bloody hand and became more enraged then before.
Vince saw Bailey standing only twenty feet away, ready
himself for another charge. Vince was still too dazed
by the impact against the showcase to avoid the charge.
As Vince sees Red through blurred eyes begin another
raging charge, he hears himself mumble.
" Oh **** ! Here he comes again."
\Vince had no time to fully recover from the body slam
before Red again grabs him around the waist and raises
him into the air for a slam against the concrete floor.
Realizing he would be body slammed again, Vince's only
thought was to protect his head. As he felt himself
being thrown down backward toward the concrete floor,
he instinctively pulled his head forward over Bailey's
shoulder, like a babe hugging his mother.
Fortunately, he caught the brunt of the impact against
the stone floor with the back of his shoulders and
avoided hitting his head altogether.
When Vince opened his eyes he found Red sitting on his
mid-section with his hands pinned to the ground on each
side of his head.
For a moment Red could not decide what to do, so he held
on tight to Vince's struggling hands, and just stared
vacantly down on Vince.
Suddenly Red decided to let go of Vince's left wrist in
an effort to punch Vince in the face. Vince had fought
many bullies during his childhood in the Italian
Ghettos, but he never hit a man when he was down.
Now Vince found himself under a man with sixteen inch
biceps getting ready to paste one on his face.
Vince quickly used his free left arm to encircle Red's
neck and pull himself up so that his head was on the
opposite side of Red's head, out of range of Red's right
fist which was restricted by his bulky arms.
Red then used his free right hand to push back Vince's
left hand back to the ground, and switched to using
his other hand to punch Vince, but Vince once again
pulled himself up with his free right hand to the
opposite side of Red's head, away from Bailey's fist.
before Red can attempt another punch, a very large
blue uniform looms above in Vince's sight, as he hears
a deep voice bellow out.
"Break it up, boys ! Break it up
before I use my club !"
The policeman grabbed Red by the back of the jacket, and
Vince felt the weight on his waist removed as Red was
lifted to his feet by a cop who was bigger than Red.
The fight was over, but now perhaps a worse predicament
presented itself. The concession had been reduced to
shambles. The damages and the public disturbance would
probably be a good enough reason for being expelled from
school and also be given a jail sentence to boot.
The Dade County Police Department of Florida was well
known for their harsh treatment of law breakers,
especially if they were ' niggers or yankees'.
Vince had personally witnessed a group of policemen
clubbing a black man mercilessly in front of a
convenience store only a few weeks before.
As Vince gets to his feet, he is relieved at the
reprieve from Red's attack, but now becomes
apprehensive over the possibility of arrest.
Both veterans are now confronted by a large, heavy
built cop standing with one hand resting on his pistol
holster with the flap opened.
Indicating with the sweep of his free hand the damaged
area, the stern looking officer asks grimly.
" What dee hell is this all aboot ?
It sho looks like you ol' boys had a
grand time tearing this place up.
Now who do yo all s'pose is gonna
pay fo all this c'hear mess ?"
The young men hang their heads in depressed anxiety as
the policeman continues.
" You both are under arrest. Now
let's move over yonder by the
telephone booth. "
The Policeman points the way with his left hand while he
rests his right hand on his gun. Red and Vince are
herded toward the telephone booth like two incorrigible
children on their way to the woodshed.
The cop enters the phone booth, and begins to dial. The
two men are in full view of the officer.
" Sgt Foley here. Send down a patrol
car to the Airport Terminal. I have
two violent prisoners here who just
destroyed half of the concession
stands."
The cop makes a providential move, inviting the young
men to escape. In order not to be overheard by Vince and
Red, the Cop turns his back to his prisoners.
Vince had already thought out the possible consequences
of the arrest, and had made up his mind to escape at
the first opportunity.
Growing up in an Sicilian Ghetto in Brooklyn, Vince had
occasion to run from the Irish cops many times during
his youth when committing petty crimes, and although the
circumstances were much more serious in this case, he
didn't hesitate for an instant.
He realized he would have to take Red with him in his
attempted escape or risk Red squealing on him.
As soon as the cop turned his back to them, Vince
beckoned Red with his hand and they began moving toward
the exit some twenty yards away. They got as far as the
exit without being detected.
Just as Vince placed his hand on the door knob, the
Cop's voice booms out.
" Halt or I'll shoot !"
Vince turns and sees the Cop standing outside the booth
with his hand on his gun holster. Without hesitation,
Vince decided to bolt out the door and make a dash for
freedom with Bailey hot on his heels.
Outside the door, a long narrow platform runs along the
building with an overhanging roof spraying the flood
lights out front, but at the back end of the platform
was a pitch black hole. Vince heads for the black hole
at the rear of the building some thirty five yards away.
Red's heavy footsteps echo behind him. Ten yards from
the end of the platform they hear a second warning:
" Halt or I'll shoot !"
And almost instantly two consecutive explosive sounds
reverberated in the night like two cannon shots.
The gun shots only spurred the fleeing boys on as they
leaped off the rear platform into the safety of the
pitch blackness. Rolling as he hits the ground, Vince
picks himself up and begins running blindly into the
spinning vortex of the black night, stumbling over
shrubs and running into trees, tearing clothes and
bruising his body.
Behind him Vince heard many voices yelling in hot
pursuit, joining the cop in his chase. Bailey had made
enemies of every Puerto Rican who had witnessed his
bullying of their compadre before the fight began, and
now they relished the hunt for him with a vengeance,
yelling their obscene threats with Spanish accents.
At first, Vince hears Red's heavy breathing and his body
thrashing behind him. Soon the sounds diminish and he
is running alone in a deep irrigation ditch full of
bulrushes that whip across his face and arms. Full of
anxiety he runs along the soggy bottom, oblivious of
the snakes and alligators that inhabit these gullies.
The excited yells of the pursuers soon fade into
indistinct broken echoes and then die entirely, until
only the night music of the creatures in the tropical
jungle remained.
Soon Vince came to a large corrugated viaduct running
under the road. The road led back to the temporary
barrack dormitories. Vince climbed up out of the gully
onto the road and headed in the direction of the
barracks silhouetted in the distance with yellow light
streaming out the windows.
As Vince trudged down the darkened tar road toward the
barracks he mumbled his fears.
" If Red got caught, he'll squeal
on me for sure. Marty and Duffy will
be back to the barracks by now. They
will know if Red made it or not."
Vince walked in the center of the tarred road which
curved like a purple ribbon through the silhouetted
tropical landscape. For the first time he became
pensive of the deadly animals that inhabited the area.
Now that he was safe from the gun toting cop, he looked
carefully where each foot fell on the darkened road,
fully cognizant of the deadly coral snakes whose bite
killed within minutes, and the other dangerous scorpions
and the gators.
When he was close enough to the barracks that lay off
to the left side of the road, he left the road and
headed for the last barrack in the row of buildings
where he hoped to find Duffy and Marty the 'Joker'.
As he came within hearing distance of the barrack, he
became relieved to hear the sounds of laughter and loud
voices flow out into the night. He entered the building
feeling that all was well.
Inside the barrack Marty and Duffy were in the midst of
a group of young men, relating the events of the
evening. Laughter broke out as Duffy told the story.
" As soon as the cop turns his back
on them, they lickety+-split out the
door with this big red neck cop
chasing and shooting at them."
At this point Vince entered the barracks and was warmly
greeted with pats on the back and chuckles. After the
good natured greeting were over with, Vince asked the
crucial question.
" What happened to Red ?"
Duffy made a hand motion toward the latrine at the end
of the barrack, and chuckled.
" He's in the latrine licking his
wounds."
Apprehensively, Vince took a deep breath and heads for
the latrine. Duffy, Marty and the rest of the men
follow.
Vince had some washing of his own to do from the
scratches inflicted by the bulrushes in the swampy gully
he ran through during his escape.
He was also anxious to see whether the issue with Bailey
was at an end, or if he still harbored any further
thoughts of combat.
Vince stops two basins away from Red. Neither one of
them acknowledge the other's presence.
As Vince also begins to wash the dirt from his face and
body, Duffy and Marty hang inside the doorway with the
rest of the students looking over their shoulders.
Finally, Red and Vince take side glances at each other.
After a few tense moments, Vince turns and looks at Red.
" Where did you disappear to ?"
" I decided to hide behind a tree."
" You're lucky they didn't find you,
Red."
" One guy did spot me but I bent
down real low and covered my hair.
He must have thought I was you, and
pretended he didn't see me."
Vince continued to wash the dirt off his bruised arms
and face, while Red examined his bleeding gums in the
wall mirror.
Whining pathetically, Red bleated like a calf.
" Look what you did to my mouth. "
Red opens his mouth for Vince to inspect like a hurt
child showing his mother his boo-boo. The blood still
runs from his front teeth over his lower lip.
" My two front teeth are loose. "
" Just remember, Bailey. You started
the fight. Youse axed fer it, so
don't bitch."
Vince finishes his washing, picks up a paper towel,
wipes his hands, and with a gesture of finality
pitches the wad of paper into a corner trash can.
As Vince exits the latrine, he takes one last look over
his shoulder at Red who has seated himself on one of the
commodes and is still nursing his bleeding gums.
The group by the door follow Vince as he exited.
Red Bailey the Bully was left alone as he sat dejectedly
on one of the commodes. The muscle man seemed to mimic
King Kong as he wiggles his two front teeth and wipes
his bleeding teeth with a bloody wash cloth, and then
inspects the blood with a strange curiosity.
Black Sheep aka Vince Marlo
During the first months as a student at the University
of Miami, Vince Marlo had lived in an Army Air Field
barrack which was used as a temporary dormitory for the
sudden influx of student war veterans after WW II.
When he landed a Job as an Neuropsychiatric Attendant
(N.P. Aid) at the Veteran's Hospital in Coral Gables, he
moved into one of the hospital dormitories.
One evening he decided to visit his old roommates still
living in the Air Field barrack dormitories.
The night of Marlo's visit the barrack was full of ex-
G.I.'s hanging about.
Vince, dressed in sports clothes, entered at one end of
the barrack and was warmly greeted by several students.
At the sight of Vince, John Duffy folded his comic book
and rolled out of his bed to greet his friend.
" Well, hello stranger."
John Duffy spent most of his time on his duff reading
comic books instead of school text books. John's goal in
life was to get passing grades so he could continue
receiving his G.I. stipend of $65.00 a month.
" Hi Duffy. This is my first chance
to visit since I got that job at the
hospital. Let me buy you a beer."
" Your twisting my arm."
Vince and Duffy head for the far end of the barrack
where Red Bailey and Marty Reisner, two weight lifters
were pumping iron.
Marty was of average build with dark curly hair and a
perennial smile stamped on his well proportioned face.
His goal in life was to be a stand-up comedian, and he
memorized hundreds of jokes which he was continually
testing out on anyone within earshot.
Red Bailey was the best built specimen in the complex
with his sixteen inch biceps and barrel chest. Bailey
wasn't really a red head; his short cropped thinning
hair was light blond, however, he insisted on being
called Red instead of Blondy. With his imposing build
and quick temper, he always had his way.
As Vince and Duffy passed the two weight lifters, Duffy
stoped by Marty and Red Bailey.
" Hey Red ! Marty ! Lets soak up
some suds at the Airport Terminal."
Marty dropped his weights and turned toward Vince.
" Hey Vince ! Did you hear the joke
about the Rabbi and the priest ?"
Duffy pulls Marty by the arm toward the door.
" Come on. Tell it on the way to the
airport lounge."
The four war veterans, all in their mid-twenties, go out
into the dark, cut across the open field and head for
the brightly lit Airport Terminal about a mile away.
It was a new moon, but a starry sky shed enough light
for the foursome to pick their way through the landscape
of tropical vegetation. The Airport Terminal acted as a
beacon to guide them to their Port-o-Call.
All along the way Marty recited his repertoire of jokes
about an Irishman an Italian and a Jew. Of course,
Marty, being Jewish made the Italian and the Irishmen
the butt of all the jokes. Red and Duffy being Irish and
Vince being Italian took the ethnic jokes in good humor,
insisting the jokes were being turned around, and that
the Jew should be the buffoon.
Of the three companions, Vince was closest to Duffy
with whom he had spent much time trying to help with his
studies, but it was a futile effort. John was not the
academic type and was doomed to fail college and would
end up in a trade school of some sort in New England.
But tonight the mood was light and the evening was
young, and with the exuberance of healthy adventurous
animals, they raced the last hundred yards to the
terminal, in an effort to get away from Marty's
incessant jokes.
Trailing behind Marty yelled, " Hey You guys never heard
this one about the Irishman, the Italian and the Jew in
a rowboat in the middle of the ocean without a compass."
Marty's joke faded into the night as his three
companions drowned the punch line with their laughter,
racing toward the terminal.
In those years immediately following the War, there was
a large number of Puerto Ricans relocating in New York.
The Airport Terminal in Coral Gables was the first
layover on the flight from the Island to the Big Apple.
As Red, Vince and Duffy, entered the Terminal
Building, out of breath and laughing, they found the
spacious waiting room crowded with the latest group of
Puerto Rican transients.
One side of the room was brightly lit with concession
counters displaying glittering jewelry, perfumes and
souvenirs of all sorts under large plate glass
showcases.
Along the opposite wall, some fifty feet away, were
about 200 Puerto Ricans with their baggage, filling all
the benches and overflowing onto the floor, seated
against the wall opposite the commercial counters.
The contrast of the brightly lit concessions with their
elegant gold and silver displays rang with an ironic
incongruity against the indigent, tired looking
travelers piled in groups along the opposite wall like
dusty old rag-dolls in a dimly lit attic.
Ignoring the immigrants, Duffy turned to Vince.
" Marty thinks he's going to be a
stand-up comedian."
" He does make me laugh, though.
Here comes the joker now."
Marty enters smiling and out of breath. He pulls out a
joke book from his pocket and thumbs to a given page.
" Here's a joke you guys haven't
heard..."
Red interrupts Marty sullenly.
" Let's go to the bar."
As the group begins to cross the waiting room with Red
strutting in the lead, a dark skinned, undernourished,
young Puerto Rican man, happens to cross in front of
Red's path. Red reaches out and rudely grabs the young
man by the arm and jerks him around so they are facing
each other.
" Where dee hell do you think
you're going, Spick ?"
Vince, Marty and Duffy stop in dead in their tracks, as
though a martial command had been given to Halt !.
The group of immigrants crowded to one side of the
room, riveted their dark eyes on one focal point.
Red continued to rudely jerk the young man about.
" Why don't you dirty spicks stay
where you belong ?"
With these last words Red shoves the man to the ground
who falls to one knee as though in prayer.
Bailey, with his fair Nordic looks, his clean shaven
well nourished face and athletic build, stood with legs
apart and his fists on his hips. Like a replica of 'El
Duce' Mussolini, Red's jutting chin and his expression
of disdain lords it over the curly headed 'Ethiopian'
who cowers below him in a posture of submission.
The young man who appears more like a teenager with his
slight undernourished build, looks up fearfully out of
wide open black eyes, speechless either out of fear or
not understanding the sudden violence he is being
subjected to.
All the Puerto Ricans moved restlessly as they
witnessed the Blond muscle man physically abusing their
unfortunate compatriot.
Vince, realizing Bailey had no intention of stopping his
physical abuse, stepped up between Red and the Puerto
Rican. In a gentle, calm voice Vince appeals to Red.
" Leave the guy alone, Red. He's not
bothering anyone."
As the Puerto Rican slipped away, the atmosphere became
intensely silent. Red's mouth slowly twisted into a
cruel smile as his fair skin flushed pink with anger,
and before Vince's eyes, Red is transformed into a
ferocious looking animal with eyes popping out and his
body trembling eagerly for a fight.
" I've been waiting for you to open
your big mouth, you son-of-a-bitch.
Now I'm going to kick your ass."
" Take it easy, Red. I don't want
to fight you. Come on. Let's get
that beer and forget about the
whole thing."
" I've seen you leaving the Copa
with Doris after hours. She's my
girl. You chicken-**** little pimp.
I'm going to tear your *******
inside out. "
Unknown to Vince, Red had been dating Doris Markley, a
chorus girl from the Copacubana in Miami Beach until
Vince came on the scene, and then Doris dropped Bailey
like a lead balloon.
" Red I never knew she was your
girl. Doris never mentioned you. "
As usual with bullies, the weaker their opponent
appeared, the more brazen they get. Vince's reluctance
to fight only fired Bailey to a higher frenzy.
"You've been cutting into my
territory. Doris is my girl, and I'm
going to teach you to stay away from
her from now on."
Vince made a quick silent decision.
" I can stand here and let Red
beat up on me, or I can get in one
good punch before he starts."
As Bailey raised his hand to push Vince, Vince not
wanting to miss Bailey's mouth, reached out with his
left hand and held Red's by the back of his thick neck
and quickly followed with a right fist full force into
Red's mouth, and the melee was on.
Bailey, stunned by the punch, staggered back a couple of
steps with a surprised look on his face that quickly
changed to a raging snarl. Red threw up his arms like
two giant horns and charged Vince like a bull.
Locking his arms around Vince's waist and lifting him
off the ground, Red carried him toward the large glass
display counter filled with souvenirs and thrashed
Vince's back across the display case with such force
that the counter was demolished completely with
shattered glass splattering all over the place.
How Vince survived the body slam across the glass
display counter without receiving an injury was a
miracle. Perhaps the crumbling glass under his back
acted like a cushion and reduced the force of the slam.
In any event, both men pick themselves off the ground
which was strewn with shattered glass, broken wood and
valuable souvenirs. Neither one of them have a scratch,
except for Red's mouth which was bleeding from
Vince's initial punch.
Vince had assumed that the physical destruction of the
souvenir display case ended the fight, but Bailey wiped
his hand over his bloody mouth, took a look at his
bloody hand and became more enraged then before.
Vince saw Bailey standing only twenty feet away, ready
himself for another charge. Vince was still too dazed
by the impact against the showcase to avoid the charge.
As Vince sees Red through blurred eyes begin another
raging charge, he hears himself mumble.
" Oh **** ! Here he comes again."
\Vince had no time to fully recover from the body slam
before Red again grabs him around the waist and raises
him into the air for a slam against the concrete floor.
Realizing he would be body slammed again, Vince's only
thought was to protect his head. As he felt himself
being thrown down backward toward the concrete floor,
he instinctively pulled his head forward over Bailey's
shoulder, like a babe hugging his mother.
Fortunately, he caught the brunt of the impact against
the stone floor with the back of his shoulders and
avoided hitting his head altogether.
When Vince opened his eyes he found Red sitting on his
mid-section with his hands pinned to the ground on each
side of his head.
For a moment Red could not decide what to do, so he held
on tight to Vince's struggling hands, and just stared
vacantly down on Vince.
Suddenly Red decided to let go of Vince's left wrist in
an effort to punch Vince in the face. Vince had fought
many bullies during his childhood in the Italian
Ghettos, but he never hit a man when he was down.
Now Vince found himself under a man with sixteen inch
biceps getting ready to paste one on his face.
Vince quickly used his free left arm to encircle Red's
neck and pull himself up so that his head was on the
opposite side of Red's head, out of range of Red's right
fist which was restricted by his bulky arms.
Red then used his free right hand to push back Vince's
left hand back to the ground, and switched to using
his other hand to punch Vince, but Vince once again
pulled himself up with his free right hand to the
opposite side of Red's head, away from Bailey's fist.
before Red can attempt another punch, a very large
blue uniform looms above in Vince's sight, as he hears
a deep voice bellow out.
"Break it up, boys ! Break it up
before I use my club !"
The policeman grabbed Red by the back of the jacket, and
Vince felt the weight on his waist removed as Red was
lifted to his feet by a cop who was bigger than Red.
The fight was over, but now perhaps a worse predicament
presented itself. The concession had been reduced to
shambles. The damages and the public disturbance would
probably be a good enough reason for being expelled from
school and also be given a jail sentence to boot.
The Dade County Police Department of Florida was well
known for their harsh treatment of law breakers,
especially if they were ' niggers or yankees'.
Vince had personally witnessed a group of policemen
clubbing a black man mercilessly in front of a
convenience store only a few weeks before.
As Vince gets to his feet, he is relieved at the
reprieve from Red's attack, but now becomes
apprehensive over the possibility of arrest.
Both veterans are now confronted by a large, heavy
built cop standing with one hand resting on his pistol
holster with the flap opened.
Indicating with the sweep of his free hand the damaged
area, the stern looking officer asks grimly.
" What dee hell is this all aboot ?
It sho looks like you ol' boys had a
grand time tearing this place up.
Now who do yo all s'pose is gonna
pay fo all this c'hear mess ?"
The young men hang their heads in depressed anxiety as
the policeman continues.
" You both are under arrest. Now
let's move over yonder by the
telephone booth. "
The Policeman points the way with his left hand while he
rests his right hand on his gun. Red and Vince are
herded toward the telephone booth like two incorrigible
children on their way to the woodshed.
The cop enters the phone booth, and begins to dial. The
two men are in full view of the officer.
" Sgt Foley here. Send down a patrol
car to the Airport Terminal. I have
two violent prisoners here who just
destroyed half of the concession
stands."
The cop makes a providential move, inviting the young
men to escape. In order not to be overheard by Vince and
Red, the Cop turns his back to his prisoners.
Vince had already thought out the possible consequences
of the arrest, and had made up his mind to escape at
the first opportunity.
Growing up in an Sicilian Ghetto in Brooklyn, Vince had
occasion to run from the Irish cops many times during
his youth when committing petty crimes, and although the
circumstances were much more serious in this case, he
didn't hesitate for an instant.
He realized he would have to take Red with him in his
attempted escape or risk Red squealing on him.
As soon as the cop turned his back to them, Vince
beckoned Red with his hand and they began moving toward
the exit some twenty yards away. They got as far as the
exit without being detected.
Just as Vince placed his hand on the door knob, the
Cop's voice booms out.
" Halt or I'll shoot !"
Vince turns and sees the Cop standing outside the booth
with his hand on his gun holster. Without hesitation,
Vince decided to bolt out the door and make a dash for
freedom with Bailey hot on his heels.
Outside the door, a long narrow platform runs along the
building with an overhanging roof spraying the flood
lights out front, but at the back end of the platform
was a pitch black hole. Vince heads for the black hole
at the rear of the building some thirty five yards away.
Red's heavy footsteps echo behind him. Ten yards from
the end of the platform they hear a second warning:
" Halt or I'll shoot !"
And almost instantly two consecutive explosive sounds
reverberated in the night like two cannon shots.
The gun shots only spurred the fleeing boys on as they
leaped off the rear platform into the safety of the
pitch blackness. Rolling as he hits the ground, Vince
picks himself up and begins running blindly into the
spinning vortex of the black night, stumbling over
shrubs and running into trees, tearing clothes and
bruising his body.
Behind him Vince heard many voices yelling in hot
pursuit, joining the cop in his chase. Bailey had made
enemies of every Puerto Rican who had witnessed his
bullying of their compadre before the fight began, and
now they relished the hunt for him with a vengeance,
yelling their obscene threats with Spanish accents.
At first, Vince hears Red's heavy breathing and his body
thrashing behind him. Soon the sounds diminish and he
is running alone in a deep irrigation ditch full of
bulrushes that whip across his face and arms. Full of
anxiety he runs along the soggy bottom, oblivious of
the snakes and alligators that inhabit these gullies.
The excited yells of the pursuers soon fade into
indistinct broken echoes and then die entirely, until
only the night music of the creatures in the tropical
jungle remained.
Soon Vince came to a large corrugated viaduct running
under the road. The road led back to the temporary
barrack dormitories. Vince climbed up out of the gully
onto the road and headed in the direction of the
barracks silhouetted in the distance with yellow light
streaming out the windows.
As Vince trudged down the darkened tar road toward the
barracks he mumbled his fears.
" If Red got caught, he'll squeal
on me for sure. Marty and Duffy will
be back to the barracks by now. They
will know if Red made it or not."
Vince walked in the center of the tarred road which
curved like a purple ribbon through the silhouetted
tropical landscape. For the first time he became
pensive of the deadly animals that inhabited the area.
Now that he was safe from the gun toting cop, he looked
carefully where each foot fell on the darkened road,
fully cognizant of the deadly coral snakes whose bite
killed within minutes, and the other dangerous scorpions
and the gators.
When he was close enough to the barracks that lay off
to the left side of the road, he left the road and
headed for the last barrack in the row of buildings
where he hoped to find Duffy and Marty the 'Joker'.
As he came within hearing distance of the barrack, he
became relieved to hear the sounds of laughter and loud
voices flow out into the night. He entered the building
feeling that all was well.
Inside the barrack Marty and Duffy were in the midst of
a group of young men, relating the events of the
evening. Laughter broke out as Duffy told the story.
" As soon as the cop turns his back
on them, they lickety+-split out the
door with this big red neck cop
chasing and shooting at them."
At this point Vince entered the barracks and was warmly
greeted with pats on the back and chuckles. After the
good natured greeting were over with, Vince asked the
crucial question.
" What happened to Red ?"
Duffy made a hand motion toward the latrine at the end
of the barrack, and chuckled.
" He's in the latrine licking his
wounds."
Apprehensively, Vince took a deep breath and heads for
the latrine. Duffy, Marty and the rest of the men
follow.
Vince had some washing of his own to do from the
scratches inflicted by the bulrushes in the swampy gully
he ran through during his escape.
He was also anxious to see whether the issue with Bailey
was at an end, or if he still harbored any further
thoughts of combat.
Vince stops two basins away from Red. Neither one of
them acknowledge the other's presence.
As Vince also begins to wash the dirt from his face and
body, Duffy and Marty hang inside the doorway with the
rest of the students looking over their shoulders.
Finally, Red and Vince take side glances at each other.
After a few tense moments, Vince turns and looks at Red.
" Where did you disappear to ?"
" I decided to hide behind a tree."
" You're lucky they didn't find you,
Red."
" One guy did spot me but I bent
down real low and covered my hair.
He must have thought I was you, and
pretended he didn't see me."
Vince continued to wash the dirt off his bruised arms
and face, while Red examined his bleeding gums in the
wall mirror.
Whining pathetically, Red bleated like a calf.
" Look what you did to my mouth. "
Red opens his mouth for Vince to inspect like a hurt
child showing his mother his boo-boo. The blood still
runs from his front teeth over his lower lip.
" My two front teeth are loose. "
" Just remember, Bailey. You started
the fight. Youse axed fer it, so
don't bitch."
Vince finishes his washing, picks up a paper towel,
wipes his hands, and with a gesture of finality
pitches the wad of paper into a corner trash can.
As Vince exits the latrine, he takes one last look over
his shoulder at Red who has seated himself on one of the
commodes and is still nursing his bleeding gums.
The group by the door follow Vince as he exited.
Red Bailey the Bully was left alone as he sat dejectedly
on one of the commodes. The muscle man seemed to mimic
King Kong as he wiggles his two front teeth and wipes
his bleeding teeth with a bloody wash cloth, and then
inspects the blood with a strange curiosity.
Black Sheep aka Vince Marlo