Read Online Gentlemen by Michael Northrop - Free Book Online Page A

and kids and like cocker spaniels.
    â€œYeah, I think maybe he was a relative, though.”
    â€œNo, that was the other time.”
    â€œOh, yeah…”
    â€œAnyway,” I said, “it’s a little early to call out the search party. Tommy can take care of himself.”
    â€œI guess,” Mixer said. “But if any of us is going to get into that kind of trouble, it’s him. He’s too freakin’…I don’t know what…He’s too freakin’ Tommy, that’s what he is.”
    Then he threw his empty can against the far wall and opened up another. That was his third, so I reached over and hauled the last one over by the plastic. I wasn’t quite done with my second one but I didn’t want to get cheated. Technically, it was Mixer’s beer, but I knew it hadn’t cost him anything.
    â€œJoey hook you up?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œCool.”
    By the time we finished the beers, it was getting later and the sky was beginning to change. It was maybe dark blue heading toward purple, still pretty early, but the bats came out early in the woods, and we took turns shooting at them. We hunkered down below the window frames, passing the Daisy back and forth and popping up to shoot. It was a game, like we were at war or like the bats might start shooting back.
    It’s pretty near impossible to hit the things, especially after three beers. They navigate by that sonar, and when you fire, the gun makes that little puffing pop. The sound gets there before the BB does, and it freaks the bat completely. I mean, I think they read that like it’s a wall or something. They always dip or dive or swoop and never the same way twice. By the time the BB gets there, it’s pretty late to the party and the bat is like two feet away.
    Mixer hit one anyway. He was just that bad a shot. The bat dropped like a rock. Its wings ruffled on the way down, but it didn’t make any noise at all when it hit. The thing probably weighed like six ounces, and the grass just swallowed it up.
    Mixer was just like, “Holy crap! I hit one!”
    â€œOh, man,” I said. “Did you see that thing drop?”
    â€œYeah, damn.”
    I was sort of replaying the scene in my head, the little thing just falling to the ground all limp.
    â€œYou’re kind of a jerk, huh?” I was just busting on him. I didn’t really give a rat’s ass about the bat.
    â€œShut up, man,” said Mixer. “You were shooting at ’em, too.”
    â€œYeah, but you hit one.”
    He picked up a chunk of Sheetrock and winged it into my arm. He threw it hard, and it would’ve hurt if it wasn’t for the beer, but I laughed anyway, also because of the beer.
    My mom still wasn’t there when I got home. I was hoping that meant she was food shopping. I went to the fridge and got another slice of cheese, only two left. As I was unwrapping it, the phone started ringing.
    â€œY’ello?” I said, still chewing.
    It was Tommy’s mom. She was wondering where he was.

5
    Mom got home pretty late, which meant she’d been working overtime down at the bank. She was a secretary, but she put in overtime because they were training her to be like an assistant bookkeeper or something. She said the money would be better, and in the meantime, she got time and a half for the extra hours. It was a little after seven, because The Simpsons reruns had just started.
    The headlights of the Ford swept across the windows of the front room, where I was watching TV. I got up and went to the hall door, because I figured if she’d gone food shopping I’d go out and help her with the bags. But it wasn’t completely dark out yet, so I could see she hadn’t gone shopping. She got out the driver’s side door and didn’t walk around to the other side, just headed straight for the front door.
    I opened the hall door and flicked on the outside light,and she switched