Where I'm Calling From Read Free Page B

him first.”
    “That’s true,” I said. “Well, you want to flip for him or what?” I felt with my free hand, but I didn’t have any money. And what would I have done if I had lost?
    Anyway, the kid said, “No, let’s not flip.”
    I said, “All right. It’s okay with me.” I looked at that boy, his hair standing up, his lips gray. I could have taken him if it came to that. But I didn’t want to fight.
    We got to where we had left our things and picked up our stuff with one hand, neither of us letting go of his end of the stick. Then we walked up to where his bicycle was. I got a good hold on the stick in case the kid tried something.
    Then I had an idea. “We could half him,” I said.
    “What do you mean?” the boy said, his teeth chattering again. I could feel him tighten his hold on the stick.
    “Half him. I got a knife. We cut him in two and each take half. I don’t know, but I guess we could do that.”
    He pulled at a piece of his hair and looked at the fish. “You going to use that knife?”
    “You got one?” I said.
    The boy shook his head.
    “Okay,” I said.
    I pulled the stick out and laid the fish in the grass beside the kid’s bicycle. I took out the knife. A plane taxied down the runway as I measured a line. “Right here?” I said. The kid nodded. The plane roared down the runway and lifted up right over our heads. I started cutting down into him. I came to his guts and turned him over and stripped everything out. I kept cutting until there was only a flap of skin on his belly holding him together. I took the halves and worked them in my hands and I tore him in two.
    I handed the kid the tail part.
    “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I want that half.”
    I said, “They’re both the same! Now goddamn, watch it, I’m going to get mad in a minute.”
    “I don’t care,” the boy said. “If they’re both the same, I’ll take that one. They’re both the same, right?”
    “They’re both the same,” I said. “But I think I’m keeping this half here. I did the cutting.”
    “I want it,” the kid said. “I saw him first.”
    “Whose knife did we use?” I said.
    “I don’t want the tail,” the kid said.
    I looked around. There were no cars on the road and nobody else fishing. There was an airplane droning, and the sun was going down. I was cold all the way through. The kid was shivering hard, waiting.
    “I got an idea,” I said. I opened the creel and showed him the trout. “See? It’s a green one. It’s the only green one I ever saw. So whoever takes the head, the other guy gets the green trout and the tail part. Is that fair?”
    The kid looked at the green trout and took it out of the creel and held it. He studied the halves of the fish.
    “I guess so,” he said. “Okay, I guess so. You take that half. I got more meat on mine.”
    “I don’t care,” I said. “I’m going to wash him off. Which way do you live?” I said.
    “Down on Arthur Avenue.” He put the green trout and his half of the fish into a dirty canvas bag.
    “Why?”
    “Where’s that? Is that down by the ball park?” I said.
    “Yeah, but why, I said.” That kid looked scared.
    “I live close to there,” I said. “So I guess I could ride on the handlebars. We could take turns pumping. I got a weed we could smoke, if it didn’t get wet on me.”
    But the kid only said, “I’m freezing.”
    I washed my half in the creek. I held his big head under water and opened his mouth. The stream poured into his mouth and out the other end of what was left of him.
    “I’m freezing,” the kid said.
    I saw George riding his bicycle at the other end of the street. He didn’t see me. I went around to the back to take off my boots. I unslung the creel so I could raise the lid and get set to march into the house, grinning.
    I heard their voices and looked through the window. They were sitting at the table. Smoke was all over the kitchen. I saw it was coming from a pan on the burner. But