As he opened his hotel room door the phone was ringing, and then he heard Corky's voice on the answering machine.
"So, it seems you stepped in shit, hey?"
Jack picked up the phone.
"I didn't see where I was going, Corky."
"Change your shoes and start all over."
"That what Junior says?"
"He wants to know if he's got an uncle like that."
"Judith thinks he's cute. Like a doll, she says."
"Wind it up and it kills you."
"Tell Junior that if he's a bad boy my uncle will come to baby sit."
"What's it gonna be, Roomie?"
"I got a bottle. Thought I might drink about it."
"Hey, that's funny."
"Best you mosey on home, man."
"Yeah, we could have a catch in your driveway."
"Shoot some pool."
"Shit sure happens, Corky."
"Hey, it's the off-season, remember?"
Jack left the phone for the window, one final look over what had to be the most pathetic week of his life. He now knew one thing: this was not his kind of game. Let them have the fucking town. It's theirs not his. He was a fool to come back. He was doomed when he did but he didn't know it, which marked him as all the more stupid. He'd gone so far out of his league that Sam would have everyone laughing at him.
Questia, a part of Gale, Cengage Learning. www.questia.com
Publication information: Book title: Off-Season. Contributors: Eliot Asinof - Author. Publisher: Southern Illinois University Press. Place of publication: Carbondale, IL. Publication year: 2000. Page number: 128.