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The Arsenal Files 8
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The Arsenal Files Collection #8 (Arsenal Computer) (1996).ISO
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RUBY61-5
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1996-09-30
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2KB
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40 lines
Copyright 1996(c)
MY KIND OF GUY
by Del Freeman
She pulled her ochre beret off her head and set it on the
table. She moved to the bar and got a light beer and a cup of ice
water; a handful of napkins. She returned to place the beer on the
table across from her, in front of the seat on the rail, and the
water in front of her own seat, directly across. Two other chairs
she moved to nearby tables.
This was her tribute to her dad. She picked the races, betting
only the occasional show ticket, usually on a long-shot. After the
15th race, she went down in the elevator, hat in place, wrapped in
her own thoughts and sunglasses.
She found herself coming every other month or so, asking for
table 4 at the McDuff track, and taking what came at the Orange
Park track. At Orange Park, the higher seats were better, but she
tried to stay on the lowest level, as she had previously done.
About six months into her pilgrimage, she returned from the
betting window to find the beer cup empty. She got another. A few
weeks later, not only the first but the second beer cup got empty.
She could almost hear her dad ordering another.
Madeline Baker, an extremist wearer of hats and other odd garb,
had taken her aging father to the dog track every two weeks for
years. With his recent death, track regulars expected to see no
more outrageous hats and junk jewelry clusters. Instead, she came
back in this beret thing, looking as exotic and out of place as
always, alone but acting as if she had company. Acting, in fact,
as if she had her dad with her. Nobody knew if she believed it was
so.
* * *
Bert Humphrey, track regular, small-time better and hanger-on
to a slightly unsavory group, made it his business to empty his own
beer cup and place it where the full one sat with the sleight of
hand of a pick pocket. He was careful to drink the brand she
bought, and often complained to his buddies it tasted like piss.
END