What's eating Gilbert Grape? by Peter Hedges

through a Tucker laughing spell.
    "Second grade—Jesus!"
    "Breathe, Tucker, " I say, imploring him to slow down.
    "How could I have forgotten?"
    Bobby encourages Tucker by saying repeatedly, "What happened? What happened?"
    "It was before afternoon recess. 1 look over and Lance Dodge is sitting in a puddle of his own piss. It had run out his pants, down his chair. Remember how she made him clean it up in front of everybody and he started crying? He was such a pussy. Lance was. Gilbert—remember that?"
    1 shove the small plate of toast crusts at Tucker. Then I slide out of the booth and stand.
    "Gilbert? Hey! Where you going?"
    I leave the Ramp Cafe and drive home.
    Ellen is sunbathing on the front lawn on the nicest towel we own. She says nothing to me and I'm in the house fast. I run the water faucet in the kitchen sink and fill a half-gallon jug and proceed to chug every drop of water. The phone rings. Amy Ccdls to me. "It's Tucker!"
    "Tell him I'm not here."
    1 put my mouth up to the faucet and gulp down as much as I can. My stomach is stretched full with water. Amy comes into the kitchen as I turn the faucet off.

    What's Eating Gilbert Grape
    "He was calling about toast. Apparently you forgot to pay for some toast."
    I take a paper towel and dry my mouth.
    "Aren't you supposed to be working?"
    "At twelve."
    "Oh."
    1 ask what time it is while I'm heading for the front door.
    "Eleven thirty-fiveish."
    "Great! Bye, Amy."
    Ellen is rubbing lotion on her stomach as I shift my truck into reverse. Arnie has climbed the willow tree out back and is shaking a branch as if to wave. 1 wave back and drive away.
    I pull into the parking lot of my old school. It is red brick, and the windows have been boarded up since it closed seven years ago. I went there for thirteen years. The summer after 1 graduated they closed it down due to declining enrollment. There are those who think the building should be torn down—as it has no apparent use. They'll never do it, though. Too many memories for too many people.
    I sit in my truck and remember going there. 1 look at the rusty playground equipment. The slides and swings are smaller now. I listen for the sounds of kids playing at recess, but there is only quiet. I lift my T-shirt and wipe the sweat off my face. Minutes pass.
    When I spin out of the parking lot, my truck kicks up gravel. I hit Highway 2, the curvy, twisting highway, going twenty-two miles over the speed limit. I'm at the county cemetery in no time. I park to the far side. 1 walk to a certain grave where the dirt is brown and freshly dug. There is no tombstone yet—just a slip of paper, a tag, that identifies the deceased. My father had the same type of tag seventeen years ago. 1 guess dying never changes. An old woman is over near where Dad is buried, so I face away from her. My desire is not to offend the innocent. 1 am ready. I unzip my pants and proceed to pee all over Mrs. Brainer's grave.

    PETER HEDGES
    I speed back to town with my radio blaring. I sing along to a song by one of those whatever-happened-to-them? groups—Bach-man-Turner Overdrive.
    "Takin' care of business every day Takin' care of business And workin' overtime"
    Back at the Ramp Cafe, the McBurney Funeral Home hearse is driving off with Tuckers truck set to follow. I pull in behind him, blocking his exit.
    Tucker is out fast, shouting, "I hate you, Gilbert. I hate you! I'm telling a story, a funny, funny story and you just leave like that! You don't even pay your bill! I mean, some friend you are. Embarrassing me like that. I have pride, you know that? Huh? Did you know that!"
    1 let him go on for some time about how I don't deserve his friendship. He sounds like a bad boy scout. Finally I say, "Hey, dummy."
    "I'm not the dummy! You are the dummy, Gilbert."
    "It wasn't Lance Dodge who peed his pants."
    "Yes, it was. 1 was there."
    "No, dummy. It was me."
    I roll up my window.
    Tucker says, "You? No way. No way! . . . uhm ... oh boy."
    I shift to reverse