Desert Assassin (11 page)

C
HAPTER
F
OURTEEN

T
HE BALANCE OF THE DAY
was spent relaxing. This included visits to the range museum and the missile park.

Once they were on their way, Williams informed Fowler of his new status in life. Fowler was unable to speak for a short stretch of time. When he did, he said, “Up until now, the two best things that ever happened to me were being hired by the Deli Don and your saving my ass. Add this to them. Thank you.”

“I didn’t suggest it. The General had already put the wheels in motion when I asked him what he could do for you.”

“Maybe I’ll find myself a shack in a desert someplace and go soft.”

“Wise ass.”

By the time they walked to Killer Two’s after having left the pick-up in place, the diner had long since been closed. “Steak breakfast later this morning,” promised Williams.

Both men slept late into the morning and didn’t arrive at the diner until just after ten. “It’s everything you said it was,” said Fowler as he surveyed the miniature Killer Kowalski museum.

“Who’s this, Bill?” asked the big man.

“Another ex-Army buddy of mine, Art.”

Killer Two offered his hand and said his usual, “Any friend of Bill is a friend of mine.”

“I heard a lot about you from Bill,” said Fowler.

“Anything good?”

“Not much.”

It took Killer Two a moment or two to realize that Fowler was kidding. “You’re okay, Art.”

“He’s a wise ass,” added Williams. “How about a double order of steak, eggs, orange juice and what you call coffee.”

“Hey,” said Killer Two.

Fowler looked at Williams and said, “Wise ass.”

“How’d you want the eggs?”

It was scrambled for Fowler and sunny-side up for Williams.

With the breakfast clientele all but gone and lunch a couple of hours away, Killer Two had time to come out of the kitchen and talk wrestling. Addressing Fowler, he asked, “Has Bill told you to story of Haystacks Calhoun and the mailbag?”

“Nope.”

Killer Two, of course, proceeded to tell his version. All three laughed throughout. When he finished, Fowler said, “That’s good stuff.”

It was just the invitation to continue that the big man needed. He surprised Williams by coming up with a new Kowalski story.

“The Killer had a main event match scheduled one time someplace in Texas against Johnny Valentine. He was a Pollock just like Killer and he was one of the best. Well, Killer found out that on part of the card was Ivan Putski, who was another pretty good Pollock wrestler, and a couple of other guys, probably locals, who were going to fight a bear.”

“A bear?” asked Fowler.

“Yah, it was alive not like the dead octopus that Two Ton Tony fought.”

Williams interrupted, “You’re telling us that Two Ton boxed against a dead octopus?”

“No, no,” said Killer Two, “he wrestled a dead octopus, but that was after he retired from boxing.”

Williams couldn’t resist, “How the hell do you wrestle dead octopus?”

With a totally straight face, Killer Two said, “You have to do it in water.”

Fowler all but fell off the counter stool on which he was sitting. After composing himself, he asked who Two Ton Tony was.

Before Killer Two could answer, Williams said, “Back in the 1930s, Two Ton Tony Galento boxed more than a hundred times, ate everything from spaghetti to hot dogs before his fights, once knocked down Joe Louis and knocked out Jackie Gleason.”

“Knocked out Jackie Gleason?” asked Fowler.

“He sure did,” replied Williams. “First, let’s hear about the bear.”

Killer Two eagerly continued, “Kowalski always had a jar of honey with him when he had a match.”

“How come?” asked Fowler.

“He took a tablespoon before his matches for extra energy. When he found out about the bear, Killer went to the promoter and asked him to put the match with the bear at the end of the card because the bear would shed fur and drool all over the ring. The promoter said okay. Killer finished his match against Valentine and then there was a break while the bear gets brought out to the ring. The bear’s face was down near the mat and it was drooling all over the place. It was hungry.”

“Why didn’t they feed it?” asked Fowler.

“A bear that’s been feed wants to sleep. This one was trained to wrestle and it knew the better it did in the ring, the better it would get fed.”

“Sort of like it should be with people, the better you work, the more money you make, the better you get fed. If you don’t work, you starve.”

“That’s right, Art. Too many people think they’re entitled to a free lunch. Every now and then, some jerk comes in here and tries to use those goddamn food stamp cards. Bad enough the dollar ain’t worth much anymore.”

“What do you do if that’s all they’ve got when they get the check?”

“I take the card and tell them if they ever come in again, I’ll break them in two. Now Putski sends in the two local wrestlers first. They see the bear drooling like mad, head down and pawing the mat. They get scared as hell and run to the far corner of the ring. Meanwhile, Killer is in the dressing room with Putski. He scoops some honey from the jar with one of his hands and as Putski is heading out the room, Killer slaps him on the ass, smearing the honey on Putski’s trunks while he wishes him good luck.”

“This is too good,” says Fowler.

Killer Two was now beaming. “There’s no animal on Earth has a better sense of smell than a bear. Putski heads towards the ring showing off his muscles to the crowd. The bear smells the honey and rears up and is clawing the air with its front paws. As soon as Putski starts to go through the ropes, the bear charges and knocks him down and starts licking the honey off his ass.”

Fowler and Williams were laughing full throttle as were the only two other customers in the diner.

“The two stiffs think the bear is going to eat Putski and they take off. Putski finally gets away from the bear and races for the dressing room while the crowd is cheering the bear. But here’s the kicker. Putski tells the Killer, ‘I think the bear loves me.’”

“What a story!” said Fowler.

“There’s something else, Putski was one of the strongest men in the world and his most famous hold was the bear hug.”

“You kidding me?” asked Fowler.

“No, before some of his matches, he would entertain the audience by putting a metal storage drum in his bear hug and crushing it.”

When Williams finally stopped laughing, he asked Killer Two why he hadn’t already told him that story.

“It’s like a menu, you always save some recipes to change your menu. That keeps the regulars coming back.”

Fowler turned to Williams, “I didn’t know Gleason was a boxer.”

“As a teenager living in Brooklyn, Gleason was a pool hustler, an amateur boxer, a carnival barker, a nightclub bouncer and he was a genuine tough guy. He began to get gigs as a stand-up comic in nightclubs, mostly dives. One of those dives was in Newark, New Jersey, which was a short distance from Two Ton Tony’s home town of Orange.”

Ever inquisitive, Fowler asked if Galento was called Two Ton because of his size.

“No, Galento owned a bar in New Jersey and also used to deliver ice in a horse drawn wagon. One time in his early days of boxing, he was late to a bout. His manager asked why. Tony said it was because he had to deliver two tons of ice. He was only five feet nine inches, but weighed over two thirty. He didn’t train much, ate like a pig, guzzled beer and was a pure brawler with a murderous left hook. He was probably the dirtiest fighter of his time and would break any rule to win a fight. Don’t know how true this is, but I’ve read that he would skip showering days before a fight hoping that he would stink so bad that his opponent would get distracted by the stink”

“Got to love the guy,” smiled Fowler.

“Being tough himself, Gleason enjoyed give and take with hecklers when he was doing his nightclub acts. Every now and then he would challenge a heckler to step outside. One night, as Gleason told it, he was doing a routine in Newark and was being brutally heckled by a guy he described as being fat, bald, middle aged and a beer guzzling, cigar smoking buffoon. Finally, Gleason asked him to step outside. He said he never saw anyone jump out of their seat as fast as the buffoon. They went outside and the next thing Gleason remembered was being flat on his back in the club with a doctor looking at him. Gleason asked what happened. What happened was a left hook by Two Ton Tony.”

“Another great story,” said Fowler.

Turning to Killer Two, Williams said, “Why don’t you tell him about Tony’s fight against Louis?”

Killer Two didn’t hesitate. “Tony was one of the ‘Bums of the Month’ who fought Joe Louis in 1939. Like Bill said, he was the dirtiest fighter around. Early in the first round, he caught Louis with a lead left hook. The Brown Bomber staggered back against the ropes. This is where Tony made his first mistake. He went after Louis swinging wildly. He missed with everything.

“In round two, Louis dropped Tony with a right-left combination, but Tony bounced up off the mat in a couple of seconds. This was Tony’s sixty-ninth fight and it was the first time he had ever been knocked down.”

“Wow! He doesn’t sound like a bum.” said Fowler.

“He did almost no training. One time he KO’d three guys in one night and drank beer in between the fights. Before another fight he bet ten bucks that he could eat fifty hot dogs and still win. After eating all of them, he claimed he could barely move in the first three rounds. Then he knocked out the guy in the fourth with a left hook.”

“That’s pretty tough to believe,” said Fowler.

“I swear it’s the truth, Art. Before the Louis fight, he had lost eighteen fights – fifteen on points, two TKOs and one DQ. He also had two draws. He won most of his fights by knockouts and TKOs. If he couldn’t connect with the hook, he was in trouble. Too bad he didn’t train.”

“But that’s what helped to make him a legend,” said Williams.

“Yah, I guess you’re right, Bill.”

“How about the rest of the fight, Killer?” asked Fowler.

“Tony caught him with a short left hook and dropped the Bomber for a two count in the third, but couldn’t finish him off. The fourth round was all Louis. Tony had nothing left when the ref stopped the fight.”

“Can’t believe I never heard of the guy,” said Fowler.

“When we get back to the house,” said Williams, “I’ll pull up a few of his fights on
YouTube,
including his Bum of the Month fight against Louis.”

Killer Two was on a roll. “In the weeks leading to the fight, Tony continuously insulted Louis and his wife. This really pissed off Louis who said after the fight that he had planned to carry Tony and really punish him. However, the left hook changed his mind and went full out after Tony in the fourth. Tony said he lost because he followed his manager’s advice and fought a clean fight.”

Waiting until Killer Two finished, Williams said, “I never hoid of the bum.”

As Killer Two began to laugh, Fowler said, “What?”

“That’s what Tony said about Louis when a reporter asked him what he thought about his chances against Louis,” answered Killer Two once he stopped laughing.

“I’ve got to read up on this guy,” said Fowler.

“Hey, Art, did you know that Area 51 isn’t the only place where the government has aliens?”

The change of subject by Killer Two caught Fowler by surprise and he shot a questioning look at Williams as if to ask, “What does he know?”

“Gleason believed in flying saucers and it turned out that so did Richard Nixon. They met at a golf tournament in Florida in the seventies when Nixon was President and played a round together. Somewhere on the back nine, the conversation turned to flying saucers, though Nixon didn’t tell Gleason that he believed in them. Later that night, Nixon showed up at Gleason’s home alone.”

Fowler interrupted, “Kind of hard to believe that the Secret Service wasn’t with him.”

“Nixon had a reputation for giving them the slip. Nixon told Jackie that he had something he wanted to show him. They got in Nixon’s car and drove to Homestead Air Force Base. The MP’s recognized Nixon and let them in. Nixon then drove to a building guarded by more MP’s. They let Nixon and Gleason into the building. They walked through a couple of rooms and then Nixon showed Jackie a wrecked flying saucer. Finally, they went into another room where Jackie saw about a half-dozen dead small bodies trapped in glass freezers. They had just three or four fingers on each hand and looked to be badly injured. The flying saucer either crashed or we shot it down.”

“Wait a minute, big guy,” said Williams, only two people claim to have heard Gleason tell that story, his second wife and some guy who claimed to have seen flying saucers in England.”

“That’s okay, Bill, I understand. I know you can’t talk about them.”

As they headed back to the house, Fowler noted that that Killer Two was one heck of a character.

“He sure is.”

“By any chance is he Polish?”

“His real name is Bronislaw Grochowalski.”

“Guess that answers that question. I figure he has no clue what went on here in the desert.”