First Blood

Teasle looked at the kid's sleeping bag against the side of the bench, guessing where the I.D. cards were. He untied it and threw it out unrolled on the floor. There was a clean shirt and a toothbrush. When he started feeling through the shirt, the kid said, 'Hey, I spent a lot of time ironing that shirt. Be careful not to wrinkle it.' And Teasle was suddenly very tired of him.

He pressed the intercom on his desk. 'Shingleton, you had a look at this kid when he came through. I want you to radio his description to the state police. Say I'd like him identified the quickest they can. While you're at it, check if he matches any description we have in the files. He has no job and no money, but he sure looks well fed. I want to know why.'

'So you're determined to push this thing,' the kid said.

'That's wrong. I'm not the one who's pushing.'

8

The Justice of the Peace had an air conditioner. It hummed a bit and rattled every so often and made the office so cold that Rambo had to shiver. The man behind the desk was bundled in an oversized blue sweater. His name was Dobzyn, the sign on the door said. He was chewing tobacco, and as soon as he took a look at Rambo coming in, he stopped chewing.

'Well, I'll be,' he said and rolled his swivel chair squeaking back from the desk. 'When you phoned, Will, you should have told me that the circus was in town.'

Always it came, some remark. Always. This whole business was getting out of hand, and he knew that he had better give in soon, that they could make a lot of trouble for him if he did not. But here the crap was coming his way again, they would not let up, and Jesus, he was just not going to take it.

'Listen, son,' Dobzyn was saying. 'I really have to ask you a question.' His face was very round. When he spoke, he slipped his chewing tobacco against one cheek, and that side of his face bulged out. 'I see kids on the TV demonstrating and rioting and all, and -'

'I'm no demonstrator.'

'What I have to know, doesn't that hair get itchy down the back of your neck?'

Always they asked the same. 'It did at first.'

Dobzyn scratched his eyebrow and thought about that answer. 'Yeah, I suppose you can get used to just about anything if you put your mind to it. But what about the beard? Doesn't that get itchy in this heat?'

'Sometimes.'

'Then what possessed you to let it grow?'

'I have a rash on my face and I'm not supposed to shave.'

'Like I have a pain in my rear-end and I'm not supposed to wipe it,' Teasle said by the door.

'Now wait a second, Will. It may be he's telling the truth.'

Rambo could not resist. 'I'm not.'

'Then what did you say all that for?'

'I get tired of people asking me why I grew the beard.'

'Why did you grow the beard?'

'I have a rash on my face and I'm not supposed to shave.'

Dobzyn looked like he had been slapped in the face. The air conditioner whirred and rattled. 'Well, well,' he said quietly, extending the words. 'I guess I walked into that one. Didn't I, Will? The laugh's on me.' He tried a brief chuckle. 'I walked right into it. I surely did. My, yes.' He chewed on his tobacco. 'Just what's the charge, Will?'

'There's two of them. Vagrancy and resisting arrest. But those are just to hold him while I find out if he's wanted anywhere. My guess is theft someplace.'

'We'll take up the vagrancy first. You guilty, son?'

Rambo said he wasn't.

'Do you have a job? Do you have more than ten dollars?'

Rambo said he didn't.

'Then there's no way around it, son. You're a vagrant. That'll cost you five days in jail or fifty dollars fine. Which will it be?'

'I just told you I don't have ten, so where the hell would I get fifty?'

'This is a court of law,' Dobzyn said, leaning suddenly forward in his chair. 'I will not tolerate abusive language in my court. One more outburst and I'll charge you with contempt.' He was a moment before he settled back in his chair and started to chew again, thinking. 'Even as it is, I don't see how I can keep your attitude out of mind when I'm sentencing you. Like this matter of resisting arrest.'

'Not guilty.'

'I haven't asked you yet. Wait until I ask you. What's the story on this resisting arrest, Will?'

'I picked him up for hitchhiking and did him a favor and gave him a lift to outside town. Figured it would be best for everybody if he kept right on moving.' Teasle leaned one hip on the creaky rail that separated the office from the waiting-space near the door. 'But he came back.'

'I had a right.'

'So I drove him out of town again and he came back again and when I told him to get in the cruiser, he refused. I finally had to threaten force before he'd listen.'

'You think I got in the car because I was afraid of you?'

'He won't tell me his name.'

'Why should I?'

'Claims he has no I.D. cards.'

'Why the hell do I need any?'