They Shoot Horses, Don't They? by Horace McCoy Read Free Book Online Page B

long as it wasn’t last.
    We had got a sponsor too: Jonathan Beer, Non-Fattening. This came just in time. Our shoes were worn out and our clothes were ragged. Mrs Layden sold Jonathan Beer on the idea of sponsoring us. Sell St Peter on the idea of letting me in, Mrs Layden. I think I’m on my way. They gave Gloria and me three pairs of shoes, three pairs of grey flannel trousers and three sweaters each with their product advertised on the backs of them.
    I had gained five pounds since the contest started and was beginning to think that maybe we had some chance to win that thousand dollar first prize after all. But Gloria was very pessimistic.
    ‘What are you going to do after this thing is over?’ she asked.
    ‘Why worry about that?’ I said. ‘It’s not over yet. I don’t see what you’re kicking about,’ I told her. ‘We’re better off than we’ve ever been—at least we know where our next meal is coming from.’
    ‘I wish I was dead,’ she said. ‘I wish God would strike me dead.’
    She kept saying that over and over again. It was beginning to get on my nerves.
    ‘Some day God is going to do that little thing,’ I said.
    ‘I wish He would …I wish I had the guts to do it for Him.’
    ‘If we win this thing you can take your five-hundred dollars and go away somewhere,’ I said. ‘You can get married. There are always plenty of guys willing to get married. Haven’t you ever thought about that?’
    ‘I’ve thought about it plenty,’ she said. ‘But I couldn’t ever marry the kind of man I want. The only kind that would marry me would be the kind I wouldn’t have. A thief or a pimp or something.’
    ‘I know why you’re so morbid,’ I said. ‘You’ll be all right in a couple of days. You’ll feel better about it then.’
    ‘That hasn’t got anything to do with it,’ she said.
    ‘I don’t even get a backache from that. That’s not it. This whole business is a merry-go-round. When we get out of here we’re right back where we started.’
    ‘We’ve been eating and sleeping,’ I said.
    ‘Well, what’s the good of that when you’re just postponing something that’s bound to happen?’
    ‘Hey, Jonathan Beer,’ Rocky Gravo called out. ‘Come over here—’
    He was standing by the platform with Socks Donald. Gloria and I went over.
    ‘How’d you kids like to pick up a hundred bucks?’ Rocky asked.
    ‘Doing what?’ Gloria asked.
    ‘Well, kids,’ Socks Donald said, ‘I’ve got a swell idea only I need a bit of some help—’
    ‘That’s the Ben Bernie influence,’ Gloria said to me.
    ‘What?’ Socks said.
    ‘Nothing,’ Gloria said. ‘Go on—you need a bit of some help—’
    ‘Yeah,’ Socks said. ‘I want you two kids to get married here. A public wedding.’
    ‘Married?’ I said.
    ‘Now, wait a minute,’ Socks said. ‘It’s not that bad. I’ll give you fifty dollars apiece and after the marathon is over you can get divorced if you want to. It don’t have to be permanent. It’s just a showmanship angle. What do you say?’
    ‘I say you’re nuts,’ Gloria said.
    ‘She doesn’t mean that, Mr Donald—’ I said.
    ‘The hell I don’t,’ she said. ‘I’ve got no objection to getting married,’ she said to Socks, ‘but why don’t you pick out Gary Cooper or some big-shot producer or director? I don’t want to marry this guy. I got enough trouble looking out for myself—’
    ‘It don’t have to be permanent,’ Rocky said. ‘It’s just showmanship.’
    ‘That’s right,’ Socks said. ‘Of course, the ceremony’ll have to be on the square—we’ll have to do that to get the crowd. But—’
    ‘You don’t need a wedding to get a crowd,’ Gloria said. ‘You’re hanging ’em off the rafters now. Ain’t it enough of a show to see those poor bastards falling all over the floor every night?’
    ‘You don’t get the angle,’ Socks said, frowning.
    ‘The hell I don’t,’ Gloria said. ‘I’m way ahead of you.’
    ‘You want to