Read Online Dunk by David Lubar - Free Book Online

his hand. His grip felt greasy.
    â€œBe here tonight at seven,” he told me.
    â€œGreat. I’ll see you then.” I headed off, my heart pounding like someone was trying to kick it out of my chest. Seven. I wondered whether he was going to give me Malcolm’s spot. That would show him. Maybe Malcolm had messed up. This was so excellent! I couldn’t wait to tell Jason.
    No. I wouldn’t tell him. I grinned as I realized how I’d play it. I’d ask him to meet me in front of Wild Willy’s tonight. When he got near the tank, I’d let him have it. I’d nail him with all kinds of personal stuff. He’d freak. It would be so cool. He’d go crazy trying to figure out how some clown knew all about him. It would be like the Psychic Bozo Network. Man, maybe I could surprise Mike and Corey, too.
    When I was about ten feet away from the tank, I thought of something. “Hey,” I called back, shouting to get Bob’s attention, “what should I wear?”
    He shrugged. “Something you don’t mind getting wet.”
    Duh. I guess that made sense. No problem there. Anyone who lived near the ocean had plenty of stuff that could get wet. I had a blue long-sleeved T-shirt. And thin nylon pants. There’d be clown makeup in that room next to the tank. Otherwise, the guy would’ve told me to buy some. They probably hired new Bozos all the time, so they’d have to keep supplies on hand.
    I walked along, picking out people and practicing in my head the things I’d shout when I was in the tank. I knew I was going to do a great job tonight.
    Job? Oh, man. I swore out loud as I realized what I’d done. If I asked Mom for permission, she’d say no. If I didn’t ask, I’d be sneaking behind her back. But I didn’t have to tell her today. I could wait a couple days. Get real good at it, then have her come see me. If I was absolutely wonderful, she’d have to say it was okay. She was always trying to get me to do stuff in school like go out for the play or learn an instrument. This wasn’t any different.
    I swung by the Cat-a-Pult on the way to Doc’s. Gwen wasn’t there. Maybe she was working at a different booth. Or maybe she’d be coming later in the summer. I hoped she’d come soon.
    â€œHey, my favorite gofer. Where you been?” Doc asked when I reached the arcade.
    â€œAround. Need anything?”
    â€œDesperately.” He pulled a wad of bills out of his pocket and peeled off a faded ten. “Get me a double sausage sandwich from Strombo’s, and a large coffee. Black.”
    I took the money. “Be right back.”
    â€œTell him not to give you the stuff that’s been sitting out since yesterday,” Doc yelled after me.
    â€œNo problem.”
    I got Doc his sandwich.
    â€œWhatcha have left, one year of school?” Doc asked when I gave him the bag.
    â€œTwo,” I told him.
    He glared across the room and shouted at a couple kids who were shaking one of the iron-claw machines, then looked back at me. “And after that? Got plans?”
    I shrugged. “Maybe California.”
    â€œThat’s not a plan. That’s a state.”
    â€œYeah. I know. But it’s a state where the boardwalk arcades are open all year round.”
    Doc grunted. I couldn’t tell whether that meant he agreed with my comment or thought it was totally absurd.
    â€œDown the road, you ever need a full-time job, come see me.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œI hired your dad at least twice,” Doc said.
    From what I remembered, my dad had worked for just about everybody around here. But never very long at any one place.
    â€œGot a confession,” Doc said. “I think I fired him at least twice, too.”
    â€œI figured.” This wasn’t a subject I felt like exploring. But there was something else I wanted to ask Doc. “Hey, that guy you told about the apartment. Malcolm. Is