Read Online Christopher Paul Curtis by Bucking the Sarge - Free Book Online Page A

wages directly into it so that when it comes time for university you'll be set, you won't be a hostage to a usurious student loan. Taking this over is a big responsibility but I know you can handle it.”
    It wasn't until later that I found out she'd caught the men's home manager stealing medications and had fired him. That meant she had to come up with someone to run the home pretty quick. Who better than me? Even though I was only thirteen at that time I already was doing most of the work over there and knew the routine, and the men did like me.
    But I didn't see it like that back then, I only saw that I was man enough to be driving and in charge of four or five grown folks, plus I'd be moving out of the Sarge's house into a place where I'm the boss!
    I'd been so excited I didn't sleep at all that night. I should have known that the next day would be the Day of a Thousand Dropping Second Shoes.
    The Secretary of State's office manager, Peter Thompson, turned out to be another victim of the Sarge's Friendly Neighbor Loan Program.
    In return for getting a little something knocked off his loan Mr. Thompson was dying to sneak me into the office after hours, photograph me for a driver's license and also order personalized license plates for the bus that said BBY FACE.
    “That way it looks like you're known for looking younger than you are, that will deflect a lot of questions,” the Sarge told me.
    It took about two weeks for the fun of running the home to wear off. Two weeks for all the excitement to turn to dust. Just two little weeks before the thing that I'd been so geeked up about that I couldn't sleep turned into nothing but hard work, boredom and a whole bunch of cartoons and late night TV.
    Once you get some years on you and a little experience under your belt it turns out that those things you have great expectations about are just as tired and played out as anything else in your life. I don't know why so many of the fools I go to school with can't wait to get older, it seems like with age fewer and fewer things are exciting. And it seems like the more excited you are about something, the more time you spend dreaming and wondering and fantasizing what it's going to be like, the more disappointing it turns out to be.
    Which has got me seriously worried about sex.
    But one thing that age and the Sarge have taught me is how to fall into a routine to make things go smoother. I try to make everything predictable and comfortable for the Crew. Change bothers them and makes more work for meso we do everything the same way every day. From shaves to lunches to television, I keep it all smooth and flowing.
    Of course these are the life and times of Luther T. Farrell so nothing ever goes all the way smooth, I had just got all the men settled into the dayroom and was starting in on my science fair project again when my worst nightmare happened. One second I was getting research off the Net and the Crew was watching cartoons and the next second Nickelodeon flickered twice during
Little Lulu
, then disappeared, leaving nothing but the blue screen of death. The weatherman had put out severe weather warnings and the winds outside must've really started kicking up.
    All six of us in the dayroom groaned.
    I turned off the blank-screened TV with the remote and pulled the curtains back to look outside. I could see that the television and computer were probably through for the night.
    Branches on trees were slapping at the wind like they were slapping at a million flies. Every once in a while their leaves would zip away as if they'd been shot out of a gun. Someone's garbage can thumped and bumped up the street, a green plastic tumbleweed.
    I knew what had happened. That illegal satellite dish that Darnell Dixon had hooked up on the roof was probably blowing around in Detroit by now, being mistaken for a UFO.
    Mr. Baker said, “You gotta fix it, Luther, you gotta fix it now.”
    I had to get control of the situation before Mr. Bakergot