Read Online A Writer's Tale by Richard Laymon - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Richard Laymon
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breath Will be my death, Boom, boom, boom, boom, Why don’t you brush your mouthpiece? Your voice is loud, It stuns a crowd.
Boom, boom, boom, boom, It’s low and sick and fuzzy. You’re big and broad. Oh yes, oh Lawd, Boom, boom, boom, boom, Ye gad! You sure are homely.
365 Days A Year
A TALL, RED-FACED BOY FINALLY REACHED HIS HOUSE AFTER A MILE’S walk from the high school. He opened the back door into the kitchen. His mother and Mrs. MacHony sat at the table sipping coffee.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. MacHony. Hi Mom.”
“Hello Sidney,” came from both.
“Think I’d better do my homework. Got an awful lot tonight.”
Sidney carried his three books upstairs to his room. He turned on the light, for the sky ‘was already becoming gray at five o’clock. The industrious student threw his geometry book onto his desk, first. He always did the homework that he hated most, first. After scanning three of the assigned problems, he decided to do one. He knew that he would receive total credit for working only one of the fifteen problems assigned. Problem finished, though undoubtedly wrong, he slammed the book shut and threw it aside.
History. Nothing but a long reading assignment. He could get away with skipping it.
English. Read twenty pages in the reading book. He cleared a pile of Miscellaneous Paraphernalia from his bed, then sprawled out on the bed, on his stomach. Boring story.
Every story in the book seemed boring.
The conversation in the kitchen suddenly toned down to whispers. Sidney’s eyes scanned the pages, but his ears closely followed the conversation. Secret tones were a sign that the two gossipers were saying something that they did not want a third person to hear.
“You know, you’re absolutely right. They are pampered too much.” The unwanted third person recognized his mother’s whisper.
“Yeah, they been sheltered, you know? When my husband was just in grammar school he got up at five to deliver papers!”
“John says the same thing. He says that these teenagers don’t know what ‘work is.
Actually, I believe that they don’t understand what a cruel world they live in. Some day they’ll come to a rude awakening. It’s extremely sad; everything is just handed to them.”
“That’s the business, gal.”
“My Sidney complains about shoveling an inch of snow. He makes excuses right and left.
Really! After all the things we do for him with no payment at all! He get’s $2.00 a week for doing absolutely nothing.”
“Right. My Harold, just the same. Never does a thing first time I ask him. I usually end up threatening an allowance cut. That hits him were it hurts the wallet. Ungrateful! He won’t go out and get a job, either, and he’s sixteen. Simply disastrous! I really quite think he’s afraid of the Cruel World. Afraid he can’t get hired or might have to get a job where he has to work. I mean, this problem is reaching disaster stages. Oh! Hello, Sidney.”
“Yeah. I think I’ll walk the dog,” he told his mother.
“You haven’t done that in years!”
“It’s sort of a nice day today. Anyway, I figured Rex would get a kick out of it.”
“Well, don’t walk too close to Jefferson. We don’t want Rex run over, do we?”
“No, Mom.” Sidney clipped the chain onto an iron ring on the dog’s collar, then opened the door.
The dog burst out of the house, pulling Sidney close behind. They ran together down the dark, deserted street. “Slow down, boy.” Sidney slowed his own pace, but the dog pulled on. “Come on, would you slow down!” Finally, half running, the boy reached the highway, Jefferson. He walked the dog up the sidewalk, which was blue in the dim street light, and slippery, until he came to the crossroad sign.
“Time to go home, fellow. Let’s go. Come on!” The strong boy did not want to pull at the leash for fear of hurting the dog’s neck, but the gnawing wind convinced him that he had better pull. He could not let the dog run
Boom, boom, boom, boom, It’s low and sick and fuzzy. You’re big and broad. Oh yes, oh Lawd, Boom, boom, boom, boom, Ye gad! You sure are homely.
365 Days A Year
A TALL, RED-FACED BOY FINALLY REACHED HIS HOUSE AFTER A MILE’S walk from the high school. He opened the back door into the kitchen. His mother and Mrs. MacHony sat at the table sipping coffee.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. MacHony. Hi Mom.”
“Hello Sidney,” came from both.
“Think I’d better do my homework. Got an awful lot tonight.”
Sidney carried his three books upstairs to his room. He turned on the light, for the sky ‘was already becoming gray at five o’clock. The industrious student threw his geometry book onto his desk, first. He always did the homework that he hated most, first. After scanning three of the assigned problems, he decided to do one. He knew that he would receive total credit for working only one of the fifteen problems assigned. Problem finished, though undoubtedly wrong, he slammed the book shut and threw it aside.
History. Nothing but a long reading assignment. He could get away with skipping it.
English. Read twenty pages in the reading book. He cleared a pile of Miscellaneous Paraphernalia from his bed, then sprawled out on the bed, on his stomach. Boring story.
Every story in the book seemed boring.
The conversation in the kitchen suddenly toned down to whispers. Sidney’s eyes scanned the pages, but his ears closely followed the conversation. Secret tones were a sign that the two gossipers were saying something that they did not want a third person to hear.
“You know, you’re absolutely right. They are pampered too much.” The unwanted third person recognized his mother’s whisper.
“Yeah, they been sheltered, you know? When my husband was just in grammar school he got up at five to deliver papers!”
“John says the same thing. He says that these teenagers don’t know what ‘work is.
Actually, I believe that they don’t understand what a cruel world they live in. Some day they’ll come to a rude awakening. It’s extremely sad; everything is just handed to them.”
“That’s the business, gal.”
“My Sidney complains about shoveling an inch of snow. He makes excuses right and left.
Really! After all the things we do for him with no payment at all! He get’s $2.00 a week for doing absolutely nothing.”
“Right. My Harold, just the same. Never does a thing first time I ask him. I usually end up threatening an allowance cut. That hits him were it hurts the wallet. Ungrateful! He won’t go out and get a job, either, and he’s sixteen. Simply disastrous! I really quite think he’s afraid of the Cruel World. Afraid he can’t get hired or might have to get a job where he has to work. I mean, this problem is reaching disaster stages. Oh! Hello, Sidney.”
“Yeah. I think I’ll walk the dog,” he told his mother.
“You haven’t done that in years!”
“It’s sort of a nice day today. Anyway, I figured Rex would get a kick out of it.”
“Well, don’t walk too close to Jefferson. We don’t want Rex run over, do we?”
“No, Mom.” Sidney clipped the chain onto an iron ring on the dog’s collar, then opened the door.
The dog burst out of the house, pulling Sidney close behind. They ran together down the dark, deserted street. “Slow down, boy.” Sidney slowed his own pace, but the dog pulled on. “Come on, would you slow down!” Finally, half running, the boy reached the highway, Jefferson. He walked the dog up the sidewalk, which was blue in the dim street light, and slippery, until he came to the crossroad sign.
“Time to go home, fellow. Let’s go. Come on!” The strong boy did not want to pull at the leash for fear of hurting the dog’s neck, but the gnawing wind convinced him that he had better pull. He could not let the dog run
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