thunter.fearloathinglasvegas-第6章

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　　〃He　has　a　bone　in　his　throat；〃　I　said。
　　〃What？〃　The　man　was　getting　ugly；　but　suddenly　his　eyes　switched　away。　He　was　staring　at　something　else　My　attorney　no　longer　wearing　his　Danish　sunglasses；　no　longer　wearing　his　Acapulco　shirt。。。a　very　crazy　looking　；half…naked　and　breathing　heavily。
　　〃What's　the　trouble　here？〃　he　croaked。　〃This　man　is　my　client…Are　you　prepared　to　go　to　court？〃　grabbed　his　shoulder　and　gently　spun　him　around。　〃Never　〃　I　said。　〃It's　the　Black　Shadow…they　won't　accept　it。〃
　　〃Wait　a　minute！〃　he　shouted。　〃What　do　you　mean；　they　won't　accept　it？　Have　you　made　a　deal　with　these　pigs？〃
　　〃Certainly　not；〃　I　said；　pushing　him　along　toward　the　gate。　〃But　you　notice　they're　all　armed。　We're　the　only　people　here　without　guns。　Can't　you　hear　that　shooting　over　there？〃　He　paused；　listened　for　an　instant；　then　suddenly　began；running　toward　the　car。　〃You　cocksuckers！〃　he　screamed　over　his　shoulder。　〃We'll　be　back！〃　By　the　time　we　got　the　shark　back　on　the　highway　he　was　able　to　talk。　〃Jesus　christ！　How　did　we　get　mixed　up　with　that　gang　of　psychotic　bigots？　Let's　get　the　fuck　out　of　this　town。　Those　scumbags　were　trying　to　kill　us！
　　
　　　5vering　the　Story。。。A　Glimpse　of　the　Press　in　Action。。。Ugliness　&　Failure
　　
　　The　racers　were　ready　at　dawn。　Fine　sunrise　over　the　desert。　Very　tense。　But　the　race　didn't　start　until　nine；　so　we　had　to　kill　about　three　long　hours　in　the　casino　next　to　the　pits；　and　that's　where　the　trouble　started。
　　The　bar　opened　at　seven。　There　was　also　a　〃koffee　&　donut　canteen〃　in　the　bunker；　but　those　of　us　who　had　been　up　all　night　in　places　like　the　Circus…Circus　were　in　no　mood　for　coffee　&　donuts。　We　wanted　strong　drink。　Our　tempers　were　ugly　and　there　were　at　least　two　hundred　of　us；　so　they　opened　the　bar　early。　By　eight…thirty　there　were　big　crowds　around　the　crap…tables。　The　place　was　full　of　noise　and　drunken　shouting。
　　A　boney；　middle…aged　hoodlum　wearing　a　Harley…Davidson　T…shirt　boomed　up　to　the　bar　and　yelled：　〃God　damn！　What　day　is　this…Saturday？〃
　　〃More　like　Sunday；〃　somebody　replied。
　　〃Hah！　That's　a　bitch；　ain't　it？〃　the　H…D　boomer　shouted　to　nobody　in　particular。　〃Last　night　I　was　out　home　in　Long　and　somebody　said　they　were　runnin'　the　Mint　400　so　I　says　to　my　old　lady；　'Man；　I'm　goin'。〃　He　laughed。
　　〃So　she　gives　me　a　lot　of　crap　about　it；　you　know。。。so　I　started　slappin'　her　around　and　the　next　thing　I　knew　two　guys　I　never　even　seen　before　got　me　out　on　the　sidewalk　workin'　me　over。　Jesus！　They　beat　me　stupid。〃　He　laughed　again；　talking　into　the　crowd　and　not　seeming　listened。　〃Hell　yes！〃　he　continued。　〃Then　one　of　em　says；　'Where　you　going？'　And　I　says；　'Las　Vegas；　to　the　Mint　400。'　So　they　gave　me　ten　bucks　and　drove　me　down　to　the　bus　station。。。。〃　He　paused。　〃At　least　I　think　it　was　them。。。〃
　　〃Well；　anyway；　here　I　am。　And　I　tell　you　that　was　one　hell　of　a　long　night；　man！　Seven　hours　on　that　goddamn　bus！　But　when　I　woke　up　it　was　dawn　and　here　I　was　in　downtown　Vegas　and　for　a　minute　I　didn't　know　what　the　hell　I　was　doin'　here。　All　I　could　think　was；　'0　Jesus；　here　we　go　again：　Who's　divorced　me　this　time？'〃　He　accepted　a　cigarette　from　somebody　in　the　crowd；　still　grinning　as　he　lit　up。　〃But　then　I　remembered；　by　God！　I　was　here　for　the　Mint　400。。。and；　man；　that's　all　I　needed　to　know。　I　tell　you　it's　wonderful　to　be　here；　man。　I　don't　give　a　damn　who　wins　or　loses。　It's　just　wonderful　to　be　here　with　you　people。
　　Nobody　argued　with　him。　We　all　understood。　In　some　circles；　the　〃Mint　400〃　is　a　far；　far　better　thing　than　the　Super　Bowl；　the　Kentucky　Derby　and　the　Lower　Oakland　Roller　Derby　Finals　all　rolled　into　one。　This　race　attracts　a　very　special　breed；　and　our　man　in　the　Harley　T…shirt　was　clearly　one　of　them。
　　The　correspondent　from　Life　nodded　sympathetically　and　screamed　at　the　bartender：　〃Senzaman　wazzyneeds！〃
　　〃Fast　up　with　it；〃　I　croaked。　〃Why　not　five？〃　I　smacked　the　bar　with　my　open；　bleeding　palm。　〃Hell　yes！　Bring　us　ten！〃
　　〃I'll　back　it！〃　The　Life　man　screamed。　He　was　losing　his　grip　on　the　bar；　sinking　slowly　to　his　knees；　but　still　speaking　with　definite　authority：　〃This　is　a　magic　moment　in　sport！　It　may　never　e　again！〃　Then　his　voice　seemed　to　break。　〃I　once　did　the　Triple　Crown；〃　he　muttered。　〃But　it　was　nothing　like　this。〃　The　frog…eyed　woman　clawed　feverishly　at　his　belt。　〃Stand　up！〃　she　pleaded。　〃Please　stand　up！　You'd　be　a　very　handsome　man　if　you'd　just　stand　up！〃　He　laughed　distractedly。　〃Listen；　madam；〃　he　snapped。　〃I'm　damn　near　intolerably　handsome　down　here　where　I　am。　You'd　go　crazy　if　I　stood　up！〃　The　woman　kept　pulling　at　him。　She'd　been　mooning　at　his　elbows　for　two　hours；　and　now　she　was　making　her　move。　The　man　from　Life　wanted　no　part　of　it；　he　slumped　deeper　into　his　crouch。
　　I　turned　away。　It　was　too　horrible。　We　were；　after　all；　the　absolute　cream　of　the　national　sporting　press。　And　we　were　gathered　here　in　Las　Vegas　for　a　very　special　assignment：　to　cover　the　Fourth　Annual　〃Mint　400〃。。。and　when　it　es　to　things　like　this；　you　don't　fool　around。
　　But　now…even　before　the　spectacle　got　under　way…there　were　signs　that　we　might　be　losing　control　of　the　situation。　Here　we　were　on　this　fine　Nevada　morning；　this　cool　bright　dawn　on　the　desert；　hunkered　down　at　some　greasy　bar　in　a　concrete　blockhouse　&　gambling　casino　called　the　〃Mint　Gun　Club〃　about　ten　miles　out　of　Vegas。。。and　with　the　race　about　to　start；　we　were　dangerously　disorganized。
　　Outside；　the　lunatics　were　playing　with　their　motorcycles；　taping　the　headlights；　topping　off　oil　in　the　forks；　last　minute　bolt…tightening　（carburetor　screws；　manifold　nuts；　etc。）　and　the　first　ten　bikes　blasted　off　on　the　stroke　of　nine。　It　was　extremely　exciting　and　we　all　went　outside　to　watch。　The　flag　went　down　and　these　ten　poor　buggers　popped　their　clutches　and　zoomed　into　the　first　turn；　all　together；　then　somebody　grabbed　the　lead　（a　405　Husquavarna；　as　I　recall）；　and　a　cheer　went　up　as　the　rider　screwed　it　on　and　disappeared　in　a　cloud　of　dust。
　　〃Well；　that's　that；〃　somebody　said。　〃They'll　be　back　around　in　an　hour　or　so。　Let's　go　back　to　the　bar。〃　But　not　yet。　No。　There　were　something　like　a　hundred　and　ninety　more　bikes　waiting　to　start。　They　went　off　ten　at　a　time；　every　two　minutes。　At　first　it　was　possible　to　watch　them　out　to　a　distance　of　some　two　hundred　yards　from　the　starting　line。　But　this　visibility　didn't　last　long。　The　third　brace　of　ten　disappeared　into　the　dust　about　a　hundred　yards　from　where　we　stood。。。and　by　the　time　they'd　sent　off　the　first　hundred　（with　still　another　hundred　to　go）；　our　visibility　was　down　to　something　like　fifty　feet。　We　could　see　as　far　as　the　hay…bales　at　the　end　of　the　pits。。。
　　Beyond　that　point　the　incredible　dustcloud　that　would　hang　over　this　part　of　the　desert　for　the　next　two　days　was　already　formed　up　solid。　None　of　us　realized；　at　the　time；　that　this　was　the　last　we　would　see　of　the　〃Fabulous　Mint　400〃…By　noon　it　was　hard　to　see　the　pit　area　from　the　bar/casino；　one　hundred　feet　away　in　the　blazing　sun。　The　idea　of　trying　to　〃cover　this　race〃　in　any　conventional　press…sense　was　absurd：　It　was　like　trying　to　keep　track　of　a　swimming　meet　in　an　Olympic…sized　pool　filled　with　talcum　powder　instead　of　water。　The　Ford　Motor　pany　had　e　through；　as　promised；　with　a　〃press　Bronco〃　and　a　driver；　but　after　a　few　savage　runs　across　the　desert…looking　for　motorcycles　and　occasionally　finding　one…I　abandoned　this　vehicle　to　the　photographers　and　went　back　to　the　bar。
　　It　was　time；　I　felt；　for　an　Agonizing　Reappraisal　of　the　whole　scene。　The　race　was　definitely　under　way。　I　had　witnessed　the　start；　I　was　sure　of　that　much。　But　what　now？　Rent　a　helicopter？　Get　back　in　that　stinking　Bronco？　Wander　out　on　that　goddamn　desert　and　watch　these　fools　race　past　the　checkpoints？　One　every　thirteen　minutes。。。　。
　　By　ten　they　were　spread　out　all　over　the　course。　It　was　no　longer　a　〃race〃；　now　it　was　an　Endurance　Contest。　The　only　visible　action　was　at　the　start/finish　line；　where　every　few　minutes　some　geek　would　e　speeding　out　of　the　dustcloud　and　stagger　off　his　bike；　while　his　pit　crew　would　gas　it　up　and　then　launch　it　back　onto　the　track　with　a　fresh　driver　for　another　fifty…