Fletch Reflected Read Online Free PDF Page A

hope for them, you wouldn’t be training them.”
    “Beef cattle marked U.S.D.A. In this case, U.S.D.A. means You Should see how Dumb they Are.”
    “Maybe they’ll win at the county fair.”
    “Not even in their weight class.”
    “How old are they? Twenty?”
    “Sixteen. Eighteen. I won’t live long enough to see either of them snooze on the canvas for the count of ten.”
    “I’ll bet they’re good.”
    “The older one, the eighteen year old, Haja, he calls himself, thinks gettin’ mad at himself is the point of the game. He’d knock himself out, if I ever showed him how. The other one, the sixteen year old, Ricky, actually thinks his muscles are pretty, if you’d believe it.”
    “Doesn’t every sixteen year old?”
    “The only opponent that interests him is in the mirror. And he likes him too much to get close. Even though they’re both wearing deodorant. Can you believe that? Ever hear of a boxer who insists on wearing underarm in the ring?”
    “Sounds like a good idea to me.”
    “I keep saying, ‘Why do I smell petunias in here? Phew!’”
    “Sparring, which one usually wins?”
    “Neither of ’em. The young one keeps dancin’ like a city boy barefoot on a hot pavement so his pretty face won’t get hit. The other one keeps gettin’ so mad at himself for notconnecting with the younger one that he bursts his own blood vessels. I tell you no lie.”
    “I’d like to drive out to look at them.”
    “No, sir! Don’t waste my time.”
    “And bring a lady with me.”
    “Don’t waste your time driving out here, from wherever you are. Even if you’re at my front gate. I won’t have you.”
    “She’s a heavyweight.”
    “No, sir! Not at my camp!”
    “She needs training.”
    “No, sir. I’m not ready for that. I never will be! Not in my camp! I’ve seen those magazines. Uh, uh.”
    “We’ll see you in a few days.”
    “You will not. You show up here, Fletch, and I’ll sic my two fighters on you, both Haja and Ricky, at the same time.”
    “That’s no threat.”
    “You’d better believe it is.”
    “Naw,” Fletch said. “You’ve already told me their flaws.”
    •
    Fletch remained in the van’s driver’s seat.
    The two attendants he had tipped rolled Crystal Faoni in an oversized wheelchair onto the hydraulic lift on the side of the van. He listened to the sound of the lift raising Crystal. The van tipped with her weight. In the back of the van they helped Crystal onto the large bed. The head of the bed was behind Fletch’s seat. They rolled the wheelchair back onto the lift and Fletch lowered it, and them, then raised the lift again and folded it within the van. They slid the van’s side door closed.
    One of the attendants looked through the van’s open window. “Okay, buddy. Get her out of here.”
    Slowly, Fletch drove the van along the driveway of BlytheSpirit. There were still many vehicles in the driveway. Entering the road, he turned right toward the highway.
    He heard Crystal sniffing. She blew her nose. Somewhere she must have found a box of tissues.
    On the highway he accelerated.
    Crystal asked, “Where are you taking me?”
    “Wyoming.”
    There was a long pause. “Fletch? Is that you, Fletch?”
    “You were expecting Charon maybe?”
    “I thought you left.”
    “I said I wouldn’t return to your room. Argue with you anymore.”
    “You always leave.”
    “Not if anyone really wants me. You didn’t really want me to leave, did you?”
    “No.” She laughed. “What’s in Wyoming?”
    “Not much, according to Mister Mortimer.”
    “Who’s Mister Mortimer?”
    “A cranky old man named Mortimer who has always insisted everybody call him ‘Mister.’”
    “A friend of yours?”
    “Yeah. He hates me. He’s sure to hate you, too.”
    “Then why are we going there?”
    “Best idea I’ve got. He probably doesn’t realize it, but he’s been adjusting people’s weight all his life. He’s a trainer. For boxers.”
    “A boxing