time nicely, and then he hooked with his right. The chair slid when he swung, and he had to grab the back of it.
“Hit it straight,” I said. “Jab it straight, but throw the right straight too. Straight line is the shortest distance between two points. A straight punch gets there first and hurts the most. Hookers are nothin’ but brawlers. Boxer with a punch can lick a hooker any day.”
“Is this it?” He threw a straight right, but it hit the side of the bag instead of the center.
“That’s the idea. Now why are you doing this?”
“I want to.”
“Ha, ha,” I said. “I know better.”
He stopped punching and looked over at me. Then he started punching again.
“I hear you’re out to get Melvin Oglethorpe,” I said.
That stopped him completely. “Who says?”
“Mr. Bascomb,” I said and smiled at him.
“No kidding, Jerry?”
I nodded. “Mr. Bascomb says you’re having a blood feud with him. His mother called up and complained about you being so big and tough.”
“He’s chicken,” my brother said.
“How come you’re sore at him?” I asked. “Mr. Bascomb told me to find out, but I won’t tell him if you don’t want me to. What happened?”
“He didn’t do anything to me,” Johnny said.
“Aw, come on,” I said.
“Nothin’, really.”
“Ukey, you’re lying,” I said.
Johnny looked at the bag, and hit it once. He didn’t hit it again, just stood there on the chair looking at it until it stopped swinging, and then he turned to me and said, “I can’t tell you.”
“I won’t say anything,” I said. “Honest.”
“Yes you will.”
“No I won’t. You can count on me.”
“I’d like to tell you,” he said. “But I can’t tell anybody.”
“Well, give me some idea.”
“He insulticated me,” Johnny said.
“How?”
“He just did.”
“Did he hit you,” I asked, “or what? I could’ve beat him up, like Larry O’Leary.”
“He just insulticated me.”
“And what did you do to him?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s not what I heard. I heard you got him so scared he can’t eat.”
“I follow him home,” Johnny said. “That’s all.”
“You haven’t hit him?”
“No.”
“Well, what’s going to happen? You can’t keep following him home all the time.”
“I don’t know,” Johnny said. “I gotta learn to fight.”
“It’s about time,” I said.
“Oh yeah?” Johnny was afraid of me but he always tried very hard not to show it.
“Yeah,” I said. “Mr. Bascomb says he’s gonna put gloves on you if you don’t make it up with Melvin.”
“Jeepers,” Johnny said.
“Well, what you going to do?”
“Learn to fight,” Johnny said, and hooked at the bag.
“Dad can show you a lot,” I said. “He’s good himself.
“I know, but I don’t want him to find out about it.”
“Why not? He won’t care.”
“I just don’t.”
“He’s going to anyway,” I said.
“How come?”
“I gotta tell Mother.”
“Why?”
“’Cause,” I said.
“Why?”
“’Cause Mr. Bascomb told me to. He will himself if I don’t. You know how he is.”
“You have to tell her?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Then I guess it’s okay to tell Dad too,” Johnny said.
“Okay?” I said. “It’s better to tell Dad. He can be a big help.”
“I guess so,” Johnny said.
We talked about it a while longer, and decided to tell my father after dinner that night. The more Johnny thought about it the more he agreed with me that Dad should show him how to fight, and, what’s more, would probably jump at the chance to do it.
After dinner we told Dad that we had some big business we wanted to talk to him about alone, without my mother and grandmother. He said okay, but not too long, he had some work to do, and we took him into the TV room and explained the whole thing to him. He thought about it a minute, and said we had to get Johnny into training right away. Then he asked Johnny what Melvin had done to him to get him riled up, and Johnny said Melvin had insulticated him. Dad said he understood.
We talked it over, because Dad said good managers always make up their preparation plans long before the match, so they can play all the angles, and we decided I should go to see Mr. Bascomb the next day and explain that Johnny wanted to fight. Dad said I should get the date of the bout set as far in the future as possible to give Johnny training time.
Dad said Johnny had better get started right away. He put Johnny up on the chair and watched him punch the bag awhile. Then he said the bag was too high for Johnny, but I told him that didn’t matter, because Melvin was too high for Johnny too. My father took me aside and said we had to build up Johnny’s confidence, so I shouldn’t say things like that any more.
My father showed Johnny how to jab that evening, and how to keep his hands up. He told Johnny to keep his hands in front of his face, elbows down in order to block punches with his forearms, and his chin behind his shoulder. Then if he jabbed a lot, my father said, he could keep the other guy off balance until he opened him up. Dad said legs were very important, and he got an old jump rope from the closet in his office
