aging fleet of three garbage trucks, had squeers refuse removal stenciled on the door, and prepared to compete on the free market. In addition to the driver, there were always at least two Squeers boys hanging on to the back of the truck as it careened through the streets of Bath, and when the vehicle came to a halt they leapt off the truck like spiders and scurried for curbside trash cans. There were only so NOBODY'S FOOL35 many places you could safely stand on the back of a garbage truck, and the Squeers boys owned and occupied these, so that when Rub was permitted to tag along he had to latch onto the side as best he could. The turns could be treacherous, and Rub sometimes had the impression that his cousins were waiting for him to be thrown from the truck so they wouldn't have to stretch their already thin profits with an extra worker.
Being family, they couldn't deny him the work, but if Rub let himself get tossed on some sharp rum it'd be his own fault.
"I could do all the hard jobs," Rub offered.
"You might have to," Sully told him.
"I
don't mind," Rub said, which was true.
"I'll sec if I can find us something for tomorrow," Sully told him.
"Tomorrow's Thanksgiving," Rub reminded him.
"So be thankful."
"Bootsie'll shoot me if I have to work on Thanksgiving."
"She probably wil} shoot you one of these days," Sully conceded, "but it won't be for working."
"I was wondering .. ." Rub began.
"Really?"
Sully said.
"What about?" Rub had to look at the floor again.
"If you could loan me twenty dollars. Since we're going back to work." Sully finished his coffee, pushed the cup toward the back of the counter where it might attract a free refill.
"I worry about you. Rub," he said.
"You know that?" Rub looked up hopefully.
"Because if you think I've got twenty dollars to loan you right now, you haven't been paying attention." Down at the floor again. Sometimes Sully was just like Miss Beryl, who'd also specialized in making Rub stare at the floor.
He hadn't had the courage to look up more than half a dozen times in the whole of eighth grade. He could still see the geometric pattern of the classroom floor in his mind's eye.
"I been paying attention," he said in the same voice he always used with Miss Beryl when she cornered him about his homework.
"It's just that tomorrow's Thanksgiving and" Sully held up his hand.
"Stop a minute. Before we get to tomorrow, let's talk about yesterday. You remember yesterday?"
"Sure," Rub said, though it sounded a little like one of Sully's trick questions.
"Where was I yesterday?"
O
Rub's spirits plunged. He remembered yesterday.
"Albany."
"How come I was in Albany?"
"For your disability."
"And what did they tell me?"
Rub fell silent.
"Come on. Rub. This was only yesterday, and I told you at The Horse as soon as I got back."
"I know they turned you down.
Sully. Hell, I remember. "
" So what do you do first thing this morning? "
" How come you can't just say no? " Rub said, summoning the courage to look up. The conversation had attracted exactly the sort of interest Rub had hoped to avoid over in the far booth, and everybody at the counter seemed interested in watching him squirm. " I wasn't the one busted up your knee.
" Sully took out his wallet, handed Rub a ten-dollar bill. " I know you didn't," Sully said, gently now. " I just can't help worrying about you. "
" Bootsie told i " to buy a turkey is all," he explained.
Cass came by then and refilled Sully's cup, topped Rub's off.
"I
don't think you heard her right. She probably said you were a.
turkey." Rub put the ten into his pocket. Everybody in the place was grinning at him, enjoying how hard it was for him to get ten dollars out of his best friend. He recognized in one or two of the faces the same people who, as eighth-graders, had always enjoyed the fact that he couldn't produce his homework for Old Lady Peoples.
"You're all in cahoots against me," he grinned sheepishly, relieved that at last the
Being family, they couldn't deny him the work, but if Rub let himself get tossed on some sharp rum it'd be his own fault.
"I could do all the hard jobs," Rub offered.
"You might have to," Sully told him.
"I
don't mind," Rub said, which was true.
"I'll sec if I can find us something for tomorrow," Sully told him.
"Tomorrow's Thanksgiving," Rub reminded him.
"So be thankful."
"Bootsie'll shoot me if I have to work on Thanksgiving."
"She probably wil} shoot you one of these days," Sully conceded, "but it won't be for working."
"I was wondering .. ." Rub began.
"Really?"
Sully said.
"What about?" Rub had to look at the floor again.
"If you could loan me twenty dollars. Since we're going back to work." Sully finished his coffee, pushed the cup toward the back of the counter where it might attract a free refill.
"I worry about you. Rub," he said.
"You know that?" Rub looked up hopefully.
"Because if you think I've got twenty dollars to loan you right now, you haven't been paying attention." Down at the floor again. Sometimes Sully was just like Miss Beryl, who'd also specialized in making Rub stare at the floor.
He hadn't had the courage to look up more than half a dozen times in the whole of eighth grade. He could still see the geometric pattern of the classroom floor in his mind's eye.
"I been paying attention," he said in the same voice he always used with Miss Beryl when she cornered him about his homework.
"It's just that tomorrow's Thanksgiving and" Sully held up his hand.
"Stop a minute. Before we get to tomorrow, let's talk about yesterday. You remember yesterday?"
"Sure," Rub said, though it sounded a little like one of Sully's trick questions.
"Where was I yesterday?"
O
Rub's spirits plunged. He remembered yesterday.
"Albany."
"How come I was in Albany?"
"For your disability."
"And what did they tell me?"
Rub fell silent.
"Come on. Rub. This was only yesterday, and I told you at The Horse as soon as I got back."
"I know they turned you down.
Sully. Hell, I remember. "
" So what do you do first thing this morning? "
" How come you can't just say no? " Rub said, summoning the courage to look up. The conversation had attracted exactly the sort of interest Rub had hoped to avoid over in the far booth, and everybody at the counter seemed interested in watching him squirm. " I wasn't the one busted up your knee.
" Sully took out his wallet, handed Rub a ten-dollar bill. " I know you didn't," Sully said, gently now. " I just can't help worrying about you. "
" Bootsie told i " to buy a turkey is all," he explained.
Cass came by then and refilled Sully's cup, topped Rub's off.
"I
don't think you heard her right. She probably said you were a.
turkey." Rub put the ten into his pocket. Everybody in the place was grinning at him, enjoying how hard it was for him to get ten dollars out of his best friend. He recognized in one or two of the faces the same people who, as eighth-graders, had always enjoyed the fact that he couldn't produce his homework for Old Lady Peoples.
"You're all in cahoots against me," he grinned sheepishly, relieved that at last the
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