LESLIE EPSTEIN
Desert
I
W
ILD RED BERRY R.E.BOUNDED from the ropes and, though only half
the size of his opponent, seized him by the leg and by the neck.
With the strength of Hercules he lifted the wrestler over his head.
"Uh-oh," said Arthur, our butler. "That Gorgeous George in big
trouble now."
Indeed, Wild Red threw down the heavy wrestler like a stevedore
hurling a bale or a barrel into the hold. The tremendous thud rattled the
speaker of our brand new Zenith, and dust rose from the canvas square
on the screen.
"Get up, Gorgeous! Get up!" My brother, Barrie, as blond as the
fallen gladiator, was bouncing on the springs of the couch.
How could he get up? The wiry Berry had thrown himself across his
antagonist's chest. All you could see was the curl-covered head of the
giant, along with his helplessly flailing legs.
"Sure looks like the end this time," said Arthur.
"No, no, no!" wailed Bartie. "Don't say that! I'll kill you if you say
that! "
But fate in the form of the referee was already kneeling, preparing to
slap the surface of the ring.
"Why you let these boys watch your trash?" That was Mary, Arthur's
wife, who had just opened the door. Her gold-rimmed glasses flashed as
she walked in front of the set.
"Move, Mary. I can't see."
"You the one to move, Mister Barton. And your big brother too.
Don't you have the sense you were born with?" That last was addressed
to her husband, who, save for the white of his collar and the whites of
his eyes, was nearly invisible in the darkened room. "These children got
schoo l tomorrow. l's the one to get them out of their beds. Do you know
what time it is to be watching this show?"
Barron: "Get out of the way! You fatty! He's escaped! I know!"
Mary clicked off the TV. "You boys, you bet-"
She did not have a chance to finish. Bartie was bounding across the
den. "You big black Aunt Jemima!" He pushed the heavy woman aside
