Page 41 - What They Did to the Kid

What They Did to the Kid 29

“I can manage okay.”
“Come on. Let us show you,” Hank said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because you’re a live one,” Peter said. They both laughed. “We
can tell you’ve got personality.”
“How long’ve you two gone here?”
“This is my first year,” Hank said.
“Then we’re in the same class,” I said.
“Yes,” Hank said, “but I doubt it.”
“You should know,” Peter said, “that our father studied here at
Misery for six years and we know every body.”
“Your father was a seminarian?”
“In this seminary, yeah. He was in Father Gunn’s class. But he
quit.”
“I never thought of that happening. An ex-seminarian being
somebody’s father, I mean. That’s funny.”
“What do they teach you in Peoria, kid?” Hank pretended
disgust.
“Ever been there?” I asked. “Where you from?”
“P. A.,” Hank said.
“The great state of Pennsy.” Peter mimed a cheer that reminded
me of a girl.
“Are you both in my class?” I asked.
“Never,” Peter said. “I’m fourth-year high school, a senior, and
you’re a freshman like Hank.”
“See those guys playing touch football over there, Peoria?” Hank
asked. “You ever play?”
“Around the neighborhood. Never on a team.”
“Here everybody plays. Except my brother,” Hank motioned,
“who’s got a medical excuse. You’ll play and learn to take it.”
“Take it? He doesn’t even get it,” Peter said. They both roared.
“Who said I couldn’t take it?” I asked.
“I’ll bet he doesn’t even own a jock,” Hank said.
“God. I’ll bet he doesn’t need one.”
“You got one, Peoria?” Hank asked. He was bigger than Peter,
who was bigger than me. “I asked you do you got one?”
“One what?”

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