Getting knocked on their asses was exactly what happened- again and again. Gladiators lumbered toward one another, dragging their weighty hoses like giant pythons, heads down, intent on wreaking mayhem on their opponents while the combatant did the same to them.
The closer they drew, the more intense the pressure, and the more unstable they became. Dean could only guess how painful so strong a blast directed at your body-and sometimes head-must feel. First one of the trio would falter, and then the others, unable to support the hose, would drop back, only to be finally knocked to the street.
The jockeying crowd made it difficult for five-foot Cynthia Dean to catch more than a glimpse of the activity as bodies rolled and washed across the pavement and errant streams drenched the crowd. Each misdirected spray scattered the attendees, often in front of those more favorably positioned. It was just as well that Cynthia's view was impaired, as she'd surely offer more sympathy for the vanquished than cheers for the victors.
Pumpkin Green was quick to fall from his third position on Billy Langstrom's team, but the two remaining participants held their ground to the cacophonous approval of the throng until they, too, were blasted to the ground. The dropped hose snaked away, further scattering the audience, the Deans among them. Cynthia had had enough. Dean took her arm as they began the slosh home. As they left, they bumped into Brandon Westlake as he made his way toward the boys.
"Exciting, wasn't it?" he said, his voice filled with admiration. "It's sure a test for the young. Too bad your girl Martha wasn't here to see it. Has she called again?" They told him no, and with a wave, he was off to commiserate with his protégés.
It was impossible for Dean to get close enough to Billy to question him. There were far too many around him. A young girl-not Melissa-rushed up to Billy and hugged him like a war bride.
Cynthia looked at the couple and shook her head. "I guess I should feel better about Randy. In spite of all I said, his and Jen's baby has a lot better future than Billy Langstrom's." Dean agreed as he and Cynthia were caught up in the dispersing crowd.
Bird Song was empty, or so they thought, when they returned. The couple changed into shorts and boots, more satisfactory attire for their mountain drive with Jennifer Radisson. Long pants or grubby clothes weren't necessary, as Dean had no intention of entering the mine. They were just finishing dressing when Dean heard a sound, the door closing directly above, in Fred's room.