Read Online Ironman by Chris Crutcher - Free Book Online

Dad. ‘Get in trouble at school and you’re in twice as much trouble at home.’ How come you never want to know what happened?”
    â€œYou know the answer to that.”
    â€œYeah, but the answer sucks. You know the trouble with the ‘get in trouble at school’ lecture, Dad? It doesn’t take people into account. If you’d take a look at just one of my school squabbles and say I might have had a point, it would be different, but that never happens and it isn’t going to, because you never want to know my side. To accept your view of things, I’d have to believe in the divine rights of teachers.”
    Luke reaches for the remote as the credits roll over Dan Rather removing his earphone from behind the “CBS Evening News” desk, and mutes the sound. “Tell you what, buddy, it wouldn’t hurt you a bit to start believing in that. This isn’t about right and wrong, Bo, it’s about obedience where obedience is due. You need to learn respect. What do you think it’s like out in the real world? Do you think you’re going to like every boss you have?”
    â€œNo, but all my bad bosses will have to give me money. Dad, I’ve been working two jobs for three years now; I’ve had three bosses at the newspaper who were alcoholic numbnuts, and I haven’t even been reprimanded once. I don’t think this is about respect. And I don’t think it’s about my future as a productive member of the work force.”
    Lucas palms the back of his neck. “Look,” he says, “You’ve known the rules in Mr. Redmond’s class from the start. I’ve talked with him personally about this, and we agree this all really started when you quit the football team. If you lived with me, it would have been taken care of back then. Mr. Redmond holds a position of respect and I would demand that you respect it, and that’s that.”
    â€œWhich is why I don’t live with you, Dad.” Bo feels the frustration of lost justice rising in his chest, a feeling that has, in the past, led to sorrowful actions. He has stayed in this conversation too long simply to walk away. The two of them came to some nasty verbiage over his quitting the football team back when it happened, but he’s been practicing a different approach, thanks to some comments from Lionel Serbousek. “You know what? I do respect Mr. Redmond. I respected him when he taught me how to catch a football and take immediate evasive action, and to throw a solid block on a guy twice my size without losing my head, but that respect went down the toilet when he had to scream at me and question my manhood in front of the rest of the guys or the crowd at the football game when I didn’t do it exactly right. I respect him for some of the things heteaches in English, but the second you don’t do everything his way, he has to embarrass you. You know why I quit football? Hell, I was a starter—”
    â€œYou quit because you lack character, son. You were—are—a quitter.”
    Bo makes a loud buzzer sound. “Wrong, Dad. Hit the showers. I quit because I can’t stand to be humiliated, and when Redmond gets pissed that’s the only thing he knows how to do. I’m not the only one who believes that.”
    â€œThat’s one of the things you have to learn to live—”
    Bo holds up his hand. “Wait. Lemme finish about respect. You know why I respect you, Dad?”
    â€œYou don’t.”
    â€œC’mon, let me finish. I respect you because you teach me things. I’ve always loved how you never told me the answer, or took the tools away and did it yourself when I screwed up. You have patience when it comes to letting me learn things. You always stayed with me till I got that ‘ I did it’ feeling.” He hesitates, then quietly, “It’s the personal stuff that I don’t respect.”
    Luke is silent,