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%u00a9Jack Fritscher, Ph.D., All Rights ReservedHOW TO LEGALLY QUOTE FROM THIS BOOK84 Jack FritscherKenny laughed. %u201cHey, like we said, he%u2019s out there in that boat.%u201d%u201cOpen the trunk.%u201d Rip pulled at the front bumper of my car with both his big arms. They carried the packs through the clearing. Kenny sat down, rattling the morning bottles ranged like dead soldiers across the heavy wood table. Two rolled to the ground. Rip didn%u2019t bother to catch them. He straightened up and rubbed the slight balloon of his stomach. %u201cDamn,%u201d he said. %u201cI%u2019m getting a gut.%u201d He was hungry for compliments.%u201cHow long%u2019s he plan to stay out in that boat?%u201d I asked.%u201cIt%u2019s not the beer,%u201d Rip said. He pointed at me. %u201cIt%u2019s your fault, O%u2019Hara.%u201d%u201cMine?%u201d I said.%u201cYours. Deak%u2019s and yours.%u201d Rip belched and became very precise. %u201cLike you%u2019re one of his seminary friends, man. You tell me. His way%u2019s no way for a guy in college to spend his summer. You guys ain%u2019t castrated.%u201d%u201cShut up, Rip,%u201d Kenny said.%u201cRemember that like fruitcake who came here last summer?%u201d Rip was not to be stopped. He was one of those frank men whose respect Rector Karg said priests needed to court. %u201cThat pansy-ass seminarian what%u2019shis-name we got so drunk he kept doing those goddam imitations of the friggin%u2019 Latin teacher, chanting %u2018Polly Polistina, Polly Polistina.%u2019%u201d%u201cThe one that kept flipping the finger and screaming like fub duck, fub duck, fub duck!%u201d Kenny said. %u201cHow could I forget?%u201d%u201cFruits,%u201d Rip said. %u201cFairies.%u201d He turned to me. %u201cYou a fub duck, O%u2019Hara?%u201d%u201cIs Mike?%u201d I said. All I knew about fruits I learned from Rector Karg who always told us before we left on every vacation that if a fruit comes up to you in a bus station, kick him in the crotch and run. I turned toward the boat and yelled for Mike.%u201cIt%u2019s okay, man. My folks raised me like Catholic.%u201d Rip belched again.%u201cFeel better?%u201d I asked.He sat down. %u201cYeah.%u201d%u201cWe%u2019ll all friggin%u2019 call him,%u201d Kenny said.The table shook as they rose and supported each other to the sandy bank. They lurched together for a moment, stopping to watch across the sparkling surface of lake the tiny figures in far-off animation at the municipal beach where Mike had worked as a lifeguard.%u201cDamn,%u201d Rip said, %u201cI can like sniff it from here. Let%u2019s row on over where the girls are.%u201d%u201cYou can%u2019t drink there,%u201d Kenny said. %u201cWhich is why we stay here.%u201d%u201cWe%u2019re drunk anyway,%u201d Rip said. %u201cBlame Deak.%u201d He put his hands to his mouth and bawled toward the boat, %u201cHey, Mikey-Mike!%u201d