drunk. I punched her in the stomach. She ran in the house screaming her head off. Her mom came out and said I should be chained up.
Fatso was singing quiet to himself, “‘I’m Chiquita Banana and I’m here to say...’”
I snuck a peek at Ralph on Fatso’s other side. I had to lean way back.
Guess what he was doing, he was praying, hard . He was kneeling up straight with his eyes shut tight and his hands together perfect, moving his lips.
Ralph was back!
I felt like doing the Twist.
I felt like doing the Mashed Potato.
Toby
I was getting a little worried about the rock, the way the faucet out there kept running. Mom’s pretty tough on dirt.
Meanwhile next to me Ralph was working hard on his role, on his Fatima Lad.
Attaboy.
I checked on the little one. She’d gotten over the shakes, or anyway was only shaking her butt now. I didn’t understand this kid.
She noticed me looking and quit bopping around—in fact she turned into a statue, hands together just below the chin, gazing straight ahead. I was thinking, all she needed was a First Communion dress to go with the veil, with some little white socks and shiny black shoes. Have her kneeling in the tent like that, off to the side as you walk in. That would be a nice touch.
I leaned over and whispered I forgave her for twisting my tit. “You were just helping out your big brother. And you know what? I’ll tell you a secret. I wish I had a little sister just...like...you. I’m serious.”
I actually was kind of serious. I’d clean her up, scrub her down, show her what a knife and fork is for—maybe even let her help me with my cards, you know? Teach her how to organize them, calculate trade value, all that. She could be my little—what’s the word— apprentice .
I leaned in closer. “Maybe we’ll order some pizza after this, how’s that sound? Some Damiani’s pizza—with pineapple. You like pineapple on your pizza, Lou? Ever try it?”
Lou
Please, Jesus, get him away from me? His breath smells like pickles, it’s making me woozy. Why is he talking to me like this, calling me “Lou,” wanting to feed me pizza—he doesn’t want to be friends, Lord, does he?
He probably doesn’t have any. How could he? He’s so fat and mean and jolly about it.
But maybe not.
Maybe down deep, under all that blubber...
Toby
“A lot of people think pineapple on a pizza sounds weird,” I whispered, “and I’ll tell you a secret, I did too. But then I tried it. And guess what, it was delicious, it was out of this world. And now? I wouldn’t dream of pizza without pineapple, wouldn’t go near it. See what I’m saying? Do you see?”
She just kept kneeling there like a statue.
Stuck-up little Fatima brat. I felt like smacking her.
Lou
Get him a friend, Lord—not me though, please? Ralph either. Somebody else. Or even a dog. Or no, a pig! A little pink pig. That would be nice for him, like a baby sister. I can picture it. Get him a pig, Lord.
Ralph
I couldn’t hear what Fatso was whispering to Lou and was just about to poke him and ask, in case it was something bad, but then he went back to singing TV commercials to himself: “‘Ajax, the foaming cleanser...’”
The water out there kept running.
I sat back on my heels.
The boy sat back, resting up.
There was a window, part of a tree showing, the leaves winking, blue sky behind it. Down at the park right now they were probably all still playing, maybe in another close one:
Come through! Come through!
I wish I could have come through. I wish I could have got a nice little base hit up the middle and won the game, everyone crowding around, whacking me on the back: Way to go, Ralph! Way to come through! Wait’ll your dad hears!
Fatso was singing about Pepsodent now: “‘You’ll wonder where the yellow went...’”
The water out there just kept on running.
She better get back pretty soon. I was starting to get this feeling I get when a story starts petering out, like a balloon
Fatso was singing quiet to himself, “‘I’m Chiquita Banana and I’m here to say...’”
I snuck a peek at Ralph on Fatso’s other side. I had to lean way back.
Guess what he was doing, he was praying, hard . He was kneeling up straight with his eyes shut tight and his hands together perfect, moving his lips.
Ralph was back!
I felt like doing the Twist.
I felt like doing the Mashed Potato.
Toby
I was getting a little worried about the rock, the way the faucet out there kept running. Mom’s pretty tough on dirt.
Meanwhile next to me Ralph was working hard on his role, on his Fatima Lad.
Attaboy.
I checked on the little one. She’d gotten over the shakes, or anyway was only shaking her butt now. I didn’t understand this kid.
She noticed me looking and quit bopping around—in fact she turned into a statue, hands together just below the chin, gazing straight ahead. I was thinking, all she needed was a First Communion dress to go with the veil, with some little white socks and shiny black shoes. Have her kneeling in the tent like that, off to the side as you walk in. That would be a nice touch.
I leaned over and whispered I forgave her for twisting my tit. “You were just helping out your big brother. And you know what? I’ll tell you a secret. I wish I had a little sister just...like...you. I’m serious.”
I actually was kind of serious. I’d clean her up, scrub her down, show her what a knife and fork is for—maybe even let her help me with my cards, you know? Teach her how to organize them, calculate trade value, all that. She could be my little—what’s the word— apprentice .
I leaned in closer. “Maybe we’ll order some pizza after this, how’s that sound? Some Damiani’s pizza—with pineapple. You like pineapple on your pizza, Lou? Ever try it?”
Lou
Please, Jesus, get him away from me? His breath smells like pickles, it’s making me woozy. Why is he talking to me like this, calling me “Lou,” wanting to feed me pizza—he doesn’t want to be friends, Lord, does he?
He probably doesn’t have any. How could he? He’s so fat and mean and jolly about it.
But maybe not.
Maybe down deep, under all that blubber...
Toby
“A lot of people think pineapple on a pizza sounds weird,” I whispered, “and I’ll tell you a secret, I did too. But then I tried it. And guess what, it was delicious, it was out of this world. And now? I wouldn’t dream of pizza without pineapple, wouldn’t go near it. See what I’m saying? Do you see?”
She just kept kneeling there like a statue.
Stuck-up little Fatima brat. I felt like smacking her.
Lou
Get him a friend, Lord—not me though, please? Ralph either. Somebody else. Or even a dog. Or no, a pig! A little pink pig. That would be nice for him, like a baby sister. I can picture it. Get him a pig, Lord.
Ralph
I couldn’t hear what Fatso was whispering to Lou and was just about to poke him and ask, in case it was something bad, but then he went back to singing TV commercials to himself: “‘Ajax, the foaming cleanser...’”
The water out there kept running.
I sat back on my heels.
The boy sat back, resting up.
There was a window, part of a tree showing, the leaves winking, blue sky behind it. Down at the park right now they were probably all still playing, maybe in another close one:
Come through! Come through!
I wish I could have come through. I wish I could have got a nice little base hit up the middle and won the game, everyone crowding around, whacking me on the back: Way to go, Ralph! Way to come through! Wait’ll your dad hears!
Fatso was singing about Pepsodent now: “‘You’ll wonder where the yellow went...’”
The water out there just kept on running.
She better get back pretty soon. I was starting to get this feeling I get when a story starts petering out, like a balloon
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