on the freeway. . . Jesus! You never heard that story?"
I shook my head.
"Okay," he said. "This is a wonderful story about how your worst nightmares can come true at any moment, with no warning at all."
"Good," I said. "Let's hear it. I like these stories. They speak to my deepest fears."
"They should," he said. "Paranoia pays, over here."
"What about the Samoans?"
"The Samoans?" He stared into his drink for a moment, then looked up. "All six of them went free. Nobody would testify. . . Some poor bastard got caught in one of those Sunday afternoon traffic jams on the Pali Highway
behind a pickup truck full of drunken Samoans. His car heated up like a bomb, but there was nothing he could do -- no exit, no place he could even park it and flee. The Samoans did things like kick out his headlights and piss all over the hood of his car, but he hung on for almost two hours -- with his doors locked and all his windows rolled up -- until he finally passed out from heat exhaustion, and fell on his horn. . .
"The Samoans went instantly crazy," he continued. "They bashed out his windshield with tire irons, then they dragged him out and castrated him. Five of them held him down on the hood, while the other one sliced off his nuts -- right in the middle of the Pali Highway
on a Sunday afternoon."
I was watching the bartender very carefully now. The muscles on the back of his neck seemed to be bunching up, but I couldn't be sure. Skinner was still slumped on his stool, not ready to do anything fast. The stairs to the lobby were only about twenty feet away and I knew I could get there before the brute got his hands on me.
But he was still calm. Skinner ordered another round of margaritas and asked for the tab, which he paid with a gold American Express card.
Suddenly the phone behind the bar erupted with a burst of sharp rings. It was my fiancée, ringing down from the room.
Sportswriters were calling, she said. Word was out that Ralph and I were entered in the Marathon.
"Don't talk to the bastards," I warned her. "Anything you say will get us in trouble."
"I already talked to one of them," she said. "He knocked on the door and said he was Bob Arum."
"That's good," I said. "Bob's okay."
"It wasn't Arum," she said. "It was that geek we met in Vegas, the guy from the New York Post."
"Lock the door," I said. "It's Marley. Tell him I'm sick. They took me off the plane in Hilo. You don't know the name of the doctor."
"What about the race?" she asked. "What should I say?"
"It's out of the question," I said. "We're both sick. Tell them to leave us alone. We are victims of a publicity stunt."
"You fool," she snapped. "What did you tell these people?"
"Nothing," I said. "It was Wilbur. His mouth runs like jelly."
"He called," she said. "He'll be here at nine with a limo to pick us up for the party."
"What party?" I said, waving my hand to get Skinner's attention. "Is there a Marathon party tonight?" I asked him.
He pulled a piece of white paper from one of the pockets in his bush jacket. "Here's the schedule," he said. "Yeah, it's a private thing at Doc Scaff's house. Cocktails and dinner for the runners. We're invited."
I turned back to the phone. "What's the room number? I'll be up in a minute. There is a party. Hang on to the limo."
"You better talk to Ralph," she said. "He's very unhappy."
"So what?" I said. "He's an artist."
"You bastard!" she said. "You'd better be nice to Ralph. He came all the way from England -- and he brought his wife and his daughter, just because you said so."
"Don't worry," I said. "He'll get what he came for."
"What?" she screamed. "You drunken sot! Get rid of that maniac friend of yours and go see Ralph -- he's hurt!"
"Not for long," I said. "He'll be into our luggage before this thing is over."
She hung up and I turned to the bartender. "How old are you?" I asked him.
He tensed up, but said nothing.
I smiled at him. "You probably don't remember me," I said, "but I used to be the Governor." I offered him a Dunhill, which he declined.
"Governor of what?" he asked, dropping his hands to his sides, and turning to face us.
Skinner quickly stood up. "Let's have a