The White King by György Dragomán Page B

picked it up, and as I started putting the cigarette back in Iron Fist's hand I thought I should press the burning end right into his mouth, he was such a beast that he deserved it, and I knew he was about to make me apologize, but I decided not to if I could help it, not if I didn't need to, I would not apologize, and then Iron Fist snatched the cigarette from me and stuck it back in his mouth, and he took a big drag, except he didn't blow the smoke on me like he had at first but into the air. Then when he did speak again, he told me to get it through my head that we had to lose the competition because our school's team must not go on to the next round, and if one thing was for sure, it was that I mustn't say this to anyone, I shouldn't even know about this, and by telling me he'd put his head through the noose, and as he said this he poked at his neck with the hand that was holding the cigarette, almost getting ash all over himself, and then he said, but that didn't matter because now the noose was around my neck too, and I didn't need to know any more about this anyway, and he told me to get it through my head that no way should I shoot more than seventy points, for if I did so I'd put my school's future at risk because at the city finals it was School No. 3 that had to get through to the next round, and not our team, so I should promise to do as he told me, that I'd shoot sixty points, or no more than seventy-five, and that was it.
    While he was talking I kept looking into his eyes, but after a while he stopped looking at me, and my eyes also drifted away, back to those plastic models again, the ones there behind the glass. Two thick tubes stuck out of the top of the heart, one of them was painted blue and the other was painted red, and when Iron Fist got all quiet I looked at him again, straight into his eyes, and he asked me to promise, but right this instant, because we really did need to get going right away or else we'd be late for the competition. And then with one hand I grabbed the back of the chair, and I said, "No, I won't promise, no way, that wasn't what my dad taught me, sports are supposed to be fair, there's no room for cheating in sports, everyone who participates starts with an equal shot, it's only about how every single person performs," and I said I didn't care, he could go ahead and take me to the competition, but I was going to shoot as well as I could all the same, I'd give it my all, and while I was talking I got really scared from hearing my own voice, it was almost like it wasn't even me talking, and then my hand started really hurting from gripping the back of the chair so hard, and I knew I'd get slapped around in no time, I tried relaxing my mouth, but I was gritting my teeth so much that the pain shot right up into my temples, and I knew that this was it, that Iron Fist would beat my brains out, but not even then could I keep my mouth shut, no, try as I did to swallow my words, not even then could I stop talking. But Iron Fist didn't hit me, instead he just stubbed out his cigarette and put one of his index fingers in front of his mouth and hissed
shhh,
but that wasn't what made me shut up, it was when I saw him put his other hand in his pocket, because that meant he was about to pull out his brass knuckles, and that would be the end of me, I'd be lucky if I only ended up in the hospital, and in the meantime Iron Fist pulled his hand out, and he didn't have brass knuckles on it, instead he was holding something in his hand, I couldn't tell what it was, and then he held his fist right in front of me, he was wearing a really wide gold ring, I saw my own face reflected in it, and then he asked if I could guess what he had in his hand, but by then I was so scared that even if I figured it out, not even then would I have dared to say a word, that's how terrified I was, and so I only shook my head. Meanwhile I looked again at the heart behind the glass, and for some reason it occurred to me that