Underdogs Read Free Page B

me.
    “Read,” he told me. “Why?”
    “Because you don’t learn anything unless you can find the patience to read. TV takes that away from you. It robs you from your mind.”
    No need to say that I stuck my head in that paper and read it. I could easily have been sacked for not reading the paper when I was told to.
    The most important thing was that I survived the day and I had another twenty dollars to my name.
    “Next Saturday?” I asked Dad when we got back out at home.
    He nodded.
    The thing is, I had no idea that this working Saturdays was going to lead me to the feet of a girl who was even better than the dental nurse. It was a few weeks away yet, but when it came I felt something shift inside me.
    On that first Saturday night, though, I walked in our front door feeling quite proud of myself. I went down to the basement because it’s Steve’s room and Steve always goes out on Saturday nights, and I turned up his old stereo and moved around to it a bit. I sang along like all poor saps do in their own company, and I danced like a complete klutz. You don’t care when there’s no one around to look.
    Then Rube came in, without me knowing.
    He looked.
    “Pitiful.” His voice shocked me.
    I stopped.
    “Pitiful,” he repeated, shutting the door and taking slow, deliberate paces down the old, worn steps.
    He was followed in by Dad saying, “I’ve got four things to say to you blokes. One, dinner’s ready. Two, have showers. Three” — and he looked directly at Rube for this one — “you — shave.” I looked briefly at Rube and saw patches of beard growing on his face. It was just becoming kind of thick and consistent. “And four, we’re watchin’
The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
tonight and if either one of you wants to watch something else, tough luck — the TV’s booked.”
    “We don’t care,” Rube assured him.
    “Just so there’s no complaints.”
    “Just so there
are
no complaints,” I corrected the man. Big mistake.
    “Are you tryin’ to start something?” He pointed as he came farther in.
    “Not at all.”
    He backed away. “Well, good. Anyway, come to dinner,” and as we walked toward him, he mentioned, “Don’t forget your old man can still give you a good kick in the pants for bein’ smart.” He was laughing, though. I was glad.
    At the door, I said, “Maybe I’ll save to get a stereo, like Steve’s. A better one, maybe.”
    Dad nodded. “Not a bad idea.” No matter how harsh the man could be, I guess he liked it that I never just asked for things. He saw that I wanted to earn them.
    I did.
    I wanted nothing for free.
    Nothing came for free at our place anyway.
    Rube spoke.
    He asked, “Why would you want a stereo for, boy? So you can dance up in our room as pitifully as
that?”
    Dad only stopped, looked back at him, and clipped him on the ear.
    He said, “At least the boy wants to work, which is more than I can say for you.” He turned away again and said, “Now come for the dinner.”
    We followed our father back up and I had to get Sarah out of her room for dinner. She was in there with the boyfriend getting it off with him against the wardrobe.
    It’s a movie scene in which I have a noose around my neck, waiting to be hanged. I’m sitting on a horse. The rope is attached to a heavy tree branch. My father is on a horse in the distance, waiting with a gun.
    I know that there has been a price on my head for quite some time, and my father and I have a plan going where he turns me in, collects the reward, then shoots the rope as I’m about to be hanged. Somehow I will then get away and we will continue the process in towns all over the countryside.
    I’m sitting there with that rope around my neck in a whole lot of outrageous cowboy gear. The sheriff or lawman or whoever he is is reading me the death sentenceand all these tobacco-chewing country folk are cheering because they know I’m about to die.
    “Any last words?” they ask me, but at first, I only