The Northwest times. [volume] (Seattle, Wash.) 1947-1955, 1954-05-08
RETURN ENGAGEMENT

in the barber chair The agonlzed
face of the other fighter. eyes al
most appealing and he. Ojiro.
smashing at those ewes again and
again and the blood yelling. then
squirting Round after round. he'd
stared into these eyes in clinehes
and then he'd smashed at them sa-
yagely.
The razor was at the base of his
throat now and it was no longer
pleasant. It's touch was a cold chill
of danger Ojiro felt nerve in his
throat begin twitching but the bar
Der didn't pause. He worked slowly
down Ojiro's thick neck
Why hadn't they stopped that
fight? He didn't want to think "a
bout the fight but ne did The
fourth round that was it He was
told to win in the fourth round
That's where the money had been
put on the fourth round. Garry
him to the fourth round" they'd
told him. The referee must've
known He didn't make a move to
stop the beating Even when some
astavistic lust had swept Ojiro's
brain and he'd begun to cut up the
mans face skillfully, the referee
didn't make a move to stop the
fight Those eyes. those eyes.
Ojiro had stared into them stonily
at every clinch, in that fight.
He tried to close his eyes now. =.
he didn't want to look up into these
Scared eyes above him but he
couldn't close his eyes. He watch
ed them follow the slow movements
of the razor, squirting almost pain
fully Damaged eyes damaged by
the brutal beating given them.
The third round The man had
gone white, Ojiro remembered with
startling clarity All but his bloody
eyebrows and eyelid and his cheeks
just under his eyes. Why-why-O-
jiro thought fearfully did 1 keep
smashing at him? Just a kid, he
was Just starting Just making a
name. A new name, a promising
career. the blood Welled from his
eyes where I smashed them and
rubbed my glove laces and the ref
cree did nothing.
He never fought again They told
me later He never pput on gloves
again. Dropped out of sight.
The barber was almost finished
with one side of Ojiros neck and he
tensed Just as soon. just as soon
as the man lifted that razor little
higher-makes the move to turn my
head, I'll jump up, I'll get out of the
chair I'll pay him and leave. have
an engagement I'll tell him. I'll
rush out. He doesn't know me. He
only looks at his razor. Never once
has he looked at me He must watch
the razor closely-he must keep his
face close because he is almost
blind
Deity, the barber swung Ojiro's
head and was stroking the other
side of his neck He made the
change in a pract.Sed quick motion
and Ojiro could do no more than
make the beginning of a move. He
tried to relax His shoulder mus
Giles were aching DULY and the per
spiration was dropping from his
armpits, down his sides. cold cour-
sing streams of perspiration down
his flanks under his shirt.
The barber worked down his neck
and Ojiro tried to thrust recollec-
ton of the fight away He couldn't
again he saw the raw meat face
of the boy. Wobbling on the strong
young neck-the glazed eyes. Then
the fourth round. Ojiro shrank a
little in the barber chair. 1t had
been-it wasn't something a man
was proud to dwell on. He hadn't
finished him quickly. Something. :.
something brutal within him had
kept him slashing, slicing, jabbing
at the boys face. Then he'd ended
it when there we're only seconds to
go. He'd delivered the coup de
grace-and he'd smashed the boys
face with a final scarping hook as
he'd gone down for the count
The barber was just over the jul
gular vein now and Ojiro fought for
self control. Tiff this man recog-
nized him now as the fighter who'd
nearly blinded him.
Suddenly, ii was over The razor
was gone and hot, SO pleasant, a
wonderful a relaxing, Nirvanian
hot cloth was over Ojiros neck. Re-
| lieved tension raced along his
,,o.,o, l;l,o ,,nJ,,lap+ ,,a,tac nc faiy,