Face/Mask (2 page)

“Come on, Al. This thing sells itself.”

“Dog fighting?” Janus threw a worried look toward his office door, afraid somebody might overhear them. “In this day and age? Not exactly something you want to brag about to the wife and kids, is it?”

“No, not something they need to know about at all. But it’s exactly the tonic for what’s ailing you. Ailing
us
. And tonight you finally throw off the shackles of bureaucratic conformity.”

Once Leblanc left his office Janus tried to turn his attention back to the job that he found deadly dull, making sure traffic lights changed when they were supposed to, and street lights came on each night when the sky dimmed.

Dimmed
, Janus thought despondently.
There was a time when night and day were easy to tell apart
.

Now, according to administration-approved scientists, the toxins just beyond the atmosphere barely let any sunshine in during the day, and reflected light from the sun at night. The night sky was never quite black anymore, nor were the days particularly bright.

Janus didn’t believe the administration’s explanations. He’d read once that the glow in the night sky was caused by the constant burning of hydro-carbons at the uppermost level of the atmosphere. That burning never stopped, but was less obvious when the sun crept up past the horizon and took its place behind the clouds and swirls of dust that resided perpetually in the sky. But nobody talked about that other than those independent bloggers who still functioned on the net. The sky being permanently on fire was something that you didn’t bring up in casual conversation.

He wondered if Leblanc’s crazy idea would really get his mind off all the things that were bothering him: their crappy world, his mind-numbing job or the family that some days felt like a houseful of strangers to him. Terry and their three sons had no idea how restive he was, and he had to make sure they never learned what he was going to do just to feel the rush of breaking a few of the rules that regulated every minute of his life.    

It was a yellow alert day, so only those with acute respiratory problems needed to wear their masks outdoors. The few people who were out on the street walked with a lighter step, some of them swinging their masks carelessly from their rubber straps. Janus wondered how many of them were trying to remember the feeling of sunshine on their faces.

Leblanc directed their cab to pull over on a street that Janus didn’t recognize. He’d never been to Park Extension before, and knew little about this part of town other than the occasional arrests reported on the news. According to Leblanc it was one of the few areas where violent street crime was still a problem. If Janus was going to get involved in something seedy and barely legal then this was the right place.

They stopped in front of a commercial building that looked abandoned, with broken windows visible through thick plastic sealant and large strips of paint missing from the walls. When the two friends exited the cab they could hear raucous voices coming from inside the building. That and the many cars parked along its front were the only indications of any activity.

Leblanc led the way to a small metal door, and banged hard on it twice. It opened a crack and he whispered something through the partition before he and Janus were let in.

Inside Janus found the noise much louder, rising and falling in waves. A small man with greasy hair and an oily complexion closed the door behind them. Janus wasn’t surprised to see that the man wore a gun on his hip, and he found this far from reassuring.

Leblanc didn’t wait for any further invitation. He led the way down a long corridor that brought them closer to the loud voices. Janus stepped quickly behind his friend, not sure whether it was safe to turn his back on the man with the gun.

The corridor turned after thirty feet and there was a large opening another thirty feet further on. He saw that a crowd had gathered in the open space, and it was from there that the voices rang out.

Stepping out of the corridor Janus saw several dozen men, dressed in everything from torn shorts and tees to suits. They were of all ages, including some who were clearly under-age, and a mix of colours and ethnicity. A few wore their air-masks indoors, likely to keep from being recognized. The men were gathered in a circle twenty feet in diameter and all were yelling and waving fists full of bills.

Janus couldn’t see past them into the center of the circle, but over the din of their voices he recognized the growling and yelping of animals. He stood frozen in his spot as Leblanc moved forward to greet patrons that he knew. Janus noticed that with each high-pitched yelp a large number of the men would raise their own voices, in approval or anger.

Leblanc turned and waved him over to where he stood next to a muscular black man wearing an old football jersey.

“This guy’s Michael,” he said. “He runs things here. It’s a fifty dollar entry fee, then you bet whatever you want with whoever’s willing to take your bet. The house takes ten percent off every win.”

The rules seemed simple enough to Janus, who wasn’t sure if he was supposed to shake Michael’s outstretched hand. The man’s unsmiling expression made it clear that a handshake was the last thing he wanted from the newly-arrived customers, so Janus pulled out his wallet, chose a red bill and held it toward his host. Michael grabbed the bill from Janus’s hand then stepped aside and signalled with his head for the two men to pass.

Leblanc led the way as they squeezed through the crowd. Janus was almost overwhelmed by the smell of the men’s sweat, along with the odours coming from the fighting animals: blood, urine and defecation.

Jostled by the waving arms, deafened by the noise, and hammered by the heat and the smells, he had to suppress a rising feeling of panic.

Things will be fine
, he told himself. This was going to be “some wild fun,” as Leblanc had described it. He just had to make sure he didn’t throw up or faint.

Suddenly he found himself being pushed hard into the wooden railing that formed the edge of the fighting ring. Leblanc pushed back on some other gamblers to make space for himself and Janus. Janus was grateful for his friend’s consideration, but still wondered how he’d convinced him to come to a dog fight.

The deep pit was empty at that point, although the dirt and straw that passed for a floor were covered with large puddles of blood. He looked around at the other men: many had taken off their jackets to relieve the heat. Several sported huge smiles while others looked dejected or angry. They all held their money tightly: green, red and brown bills. There would be no betting, however, until they had a chance to see the next pair of canines.

“Whadya think?” Leblanc asked, grinning.

“Pretty wild,” Janus answered, trying to feign enthusiasm.

“Wait till the next dogs come out. There’ll be as much action between the bettors as there is between the dogs.”

Janus’s answer was a grim smile. He carefully eyed the men around him, their leering smiles and their wild expressions, and realized that what he was seeing was blood-lust. He wondered if anybody got this excited betting on a horse race or a spinning wheel, and told himself that the men around him were a breed apart.

Was he made of the same stuff? His friend thought so. Leblanc had understood Janus’s boredom, his need to break free from the constraints of his job and family life, his position in society. He’d understood because he felt the same way. In front of their co-workers Leblanc was fairly timid, but there was another side of him that he’d been willing to share with Janus. Janus had hoped to match Leblanc’s daring, but was having his doubts.

A cheer went up from the other side of the ring. The crowd parted to let through a large-bellied man with a half-chewed cigar in his mouth. The man was pulling on a tightly-held leash, attached to the ugliest animal that Janus had ever seen.

Its back reached up to the man’s hip; its brown fur grew in patches on its heavily scarred body. He could barely make out the face behind a muzzle that strained with the strength of the animal’s jaws. Blood and spittle flew from the mask as it shook its head from side to side in a futile attempt to rid itself of the muzzle.

A door in the ring opened, allowing the large man to pull the dog inside where everyone could get a good look, and the bettors’ voices died down in their awe of the beast.
Surely this dog’s the favourite to win
, Janus thought.
What kind of odds would they have to give to make anyone bet against it?

He didn’t have to wait long to see what the dog’s competition looked like. Michael, the man who had taken his fifty dollars, stepped into the ring holding the chain of another terrifying beast. Smaller than its opponent, the rippling muscles under its torn fur proved it was equally battle-tested.

As soon as the dogs saw each other they lunged forward, their muzzles clashing. Although both men were large and strong, they struggled to pull their dogs back, finally getting them to opposing sides of the ring.

The previously-stilled voices of the bettors now roared to life, shaking Janus with their energy. Leblanc tugged on his arm.

“Whadya think?” he asked again.

“Some animals! I’d hate to run into them in the street.”

“Which one do you like?”

“The first one’s a lot bigger, although they both look like they’d kill anything in their way. What kind of odds are there?”

Normand pointed up to a chalkboard that stood against a far wall, where the numbers “4-1” were scrawled.

“Four to one? That’d make a nice win.”

Suddenly a toothless man from Janus’s right grabbed his arm.

“Ya like those odds?” he shouted over the noise of the crowd. His breath smelled like something had died in his mouth, and Janus recoiled from the stench.

“I guess so,” he answered, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

“Betcha five hunnert Big Sam wins.”

Janus guessed the man was speaking of the first dog. He had brought five hundred dollars with him in total, and he had no intention of betting it all on one long-shot.

“Too rich for my blood. I’m only looking to bet a hundred.”

“Fuckin’ pussy,” the man laughed at him. “I’ll take your hunnert anyway, cause Sam’s gonna be shittin’ out chunks of that other mutt tonight.”

Leblanc leaned across Janus to yell toward the toothless man.

“If you’re so sure of yourself you fucking loudmouth, why don’t you give him better odds?”

Janus was stunned at the transformation of his colleague, whom he had never heard raise his voice in six years working together. Leblanc had made himself at home in this adrenaline-charged atmosphere. He watched as the toothless man’s mouth worked, clearly trying to weigh his chances of an easy win.

“’kay,” he finally said. “I’ll give ya six to one. But for five hunnert.”

“Three hundred,” Janus responded before his common sense could stop him.

“Three hunnert then, ya pussy. What the fuck!”

Leblanc grabbed the man’s arm, and pulled him closer so the man could hear.

“That’s eighteen hundred you owe him if you lose. You sure as shit better have it on you.”

“I got it, I got it. Don’t have to be so fuckin’ grabby. Whaddya think, I'm a welcher?”

With that Leblanc let the man’s arm go and slid back to Janus’s left. Janus stared in admiration at him, then leaned over to speak into his ear.

“I don’t know where you’ve been hiding those balls, Normand, but you should wear them at the office some times.”

Leblanc smiled in embarrassment and shook his head.

“When in Rome, right? If you show any fear with some of these characters they’d throw you in the pit with the dogs.”

Janus nodded uncertainly. He was about to find out if he had any Roman inside him. He took a deep breath to calm himself, and got a lungful of stink for his troubles.

In the pit Michael and the fat man were struggling to hold their dogs back, the animals trying to bite each other through their muzzles. As if on cue the two men pulled on straps which had been holding the muzzles in place and let go of the dogs’ collars. While the dogs instinctively jumped toward each other the men scrambled out the door to safety. In the case of the fat man, it was an unexpected display of speed and agility.

On their initial release the dogs ran into each other with such force that they bounced back, their paws scrambling to regain their purchase in the dirt. Then the two animals stood back for a moment, facing each other and barking threateningly. Big Sam began circling the smaller dog, looking for an opening to go for its throat, but he clearly wasn’t expecting a full-on attack at his face. The smaller dog jumped straight at Big Sam’s head, clawing and biting, and before anyone knew what was happening the large beast was blinded in one eye. Whimpering, in extreme pain and unable to see he turned his back on his opponent, and that proved to be his undoing. The other dog was on Sam in a flash, his jaws clamping like a vice around his throat, not letting go no matter how much the larger dog thrashed his head around or hit him with his forepaws.

Finally, Sam did what so many dogs in his hopeless position had done: he rolled over onto his back, leaving himself defenceless and showing the smaller dog there was nothing to fear from him. But he was granted no mercy, and in seconds Sam’s one remaining eye stopped looking around desperately for help. Its fierce glare was replaced by emptiness, the dog’s body totally limp.