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Lawrence Block - Strangers On A Handball Court

From: The Collected Mystery Stories

We met for the first time on a handball court in Sheridan Park. It was a Saturday morning in early summer with the sky free of clouds and the sun warm but not yet unbearable. He was alone on the court when I got there and I stood for a few moments watching him warm up, slamming the little ball viciously against the imperturbable backstop.

He didn't look my way, although he must have known I was watching him. When he paused for a moment I said, "A game?"

He looked my way. "Why not?"

I suppose we played for two hours, perhaps a little longer. I've no idea how many games we played. I was several years younger, weighed considerably less and topped him by four or five inches.

He won every game.

When we broke, the sun was high in the sky and considerably hotter than it had been when we started. We had both been sweating freely and we stood together, rubbing our faces and chests with our towels. "Good workout," he said. "There's nothing like it."

"I hope you at least got some decent exercise out of it," I said apologetically. "I certainly didn't make it much of a contest."

"Oh, don't bother yourself about that," he said, and flashed a shark's smile. "Tell you the truth, I like to win. On and off the court. And I certainly got a workout out of you."

I laughed. "As a matter of fact, I managed to work up a thirst. How about a couple of beers? On me, in exchange for the handball lesson."

He grinned. "Why not?"

*******

We didn't talk much until we were settled in a booth at the Hofbrau House. Generations of collegians had carved combinations of Greek letters into the top of our sturdy oak table. I was in the middle of another apology for my athletic inadequacy when he set his stein down atop Zeta Beta Tau and shook a cigarette out of his pack. "Listen," he said, "forget it. What the hell, maybe you're lucky in love."

I let out a bark of mirthless laughter. "If this is luck," I said, "I'd hate to see misfortune."

"Problems?"

"You might say so."

"Well, if it's something you'd rather not talk about-"

I shook my head. "It's not that-it might even do me good to talk about it-but it would bore the daylights out of you. It's hardly an original problem. The world is overflowing these days with men in the very same leaky boat."

"Oh?"

"I've got a girl," I said. "I love her and she loves me. But I'm afraid I'm going to lose her."

He frowned, thinking about it. "You're married," he said.

"No."

"She's married."

I shook my head. "No, we're both single. She wants to get married."