Ultimate Sports Read Online Free Page B

for you to sleep.”
    “In the basement?”
    “Can’t have you up here. I got a finished basement down there, though. I got a door that locks from the outside. If anyone checked, they could see no one’s using my other bedroom. I’m gone in the daytime, at my gym on Jamaica Avenue. Emile keeps people away from the place while I’m out.”
    “He’s some kind of dog.”
    “Ain’t he ever? I named him for Emile Griffith. That’s what Emile looked like when he was welterweight champ. All muscle, steel wires, and teeth. Now, you get something to eat while I go downstairs.”
    A half hour later, Randy followed his uncle down thebasement stairs. Harlow swung open a door to a large, wood-paneled room. There was a mattress in one corner. A heavy bag hung from a chain in the center of the room, and a light speed bag was in the far corner. On the walls were bright, shiny weights for bodybuilding. Between two paneled doors was a rowing machine. The only light came from a bare bulb that hung from the low ceiling.
    “Okay, kid,” Harlow said. “It ain’t much, but it’s going to be your home for a time. You can’t keep the light on at night—people could see it through the basement windows.” He waved at the barred windows set high in the walls. “Once the sun comes up, you’ll have light enough down here.”
    “But what will I do down here?” Randy protested. “There’s no radio, no TV—”
    “What do you think you’d have in jail, boy?” snapped Harlow. “You want to do something, hit the speed bag or the heavy bag. There’s a pair of workout gloves in that closet and some sweats that should fit you. They’re mine. There’s a little John behind that other door. I’ll bring you a toothbrush and some shaving stuff when I get back from work tomorrow. Now I have to get some sleep.”
    Harlow closed the door and shut off the light switch alongside it. “But this is like jail!” Randy protested from behind the door.
    “You don’t know what jail is,” Harlow said. “You got your own health club in there, kid. Use it.”
    He went upstairs, brushed his teeth, and went to bed. As he turned out the light, he heard a slow, regular thumping sound from the basement. He smiled. “Fool kid’s hitting that heavy bag in the dark,” he thought as he drifted off. “Yeah, no doubt of it. He’s got that Fuller hot blood.”
    •   •   •
    Early the next morning, Randy was awakened by a rough hand on his shoulder. Without thinking, he swung hard at its owner. His large fist hit nothing but air. He opened his eyes, for a moment not remembering where he was. He saw his uncle standing over him, smiling.
    “You do wake up a bit sudden, don’t you, Randy?” Harlow said.
    “What time is it?”
    “Six o’clock. Time to be up and doing, boy!”
    “Leave me alone,” Randy grunted, rolling over. “I don’t get up at home until noon.”
    “This ain’t home, kid,” Harlow said. He grabbed at one corner of the mattress on the floor and tugged mightily. Randy rolled out onto the hard tile. The young man got to his feet with fists at the ready. Harlow laughed.
    “Come on, kid. Anytime you’re ready.”
    Randy rushed at the older man, swinging a wild, overhand right. Harlow barely moved. As the force of the blow carried Randy past him, Harlow gave the younger man a hard shove that sent him sprawling onto the floor.
    Harlow then threw the mattress over Randy. As the young man got to his hands and knees under the mattress, Harlow placed a well-aimed kick on his padded rear. Even through the mattress, he could hear Randy’s grunt of surprise and pain.
    “This is no way to treat somebody who’s brought you breakfast, Randy,” Harlow said to the form on the floor. “Aren’t you hungry?”
    “Mmmmph”
came from under the mattress.
    “I guess that means yes,” the older man said. He walked to the open door and picked up a tray from thebottom step of the stairs. When he returned, Randy was sitting up in the