Read Online Suder by Percival Everett - Free Book Online Page A

about?”
    â€œThis music, this paranoia. You’re like your mother.”
    I open the front door.
    â€œWhere are you going?”
    â€œFor a walk.” I leave.

Chapter 9
    Ma draped the wool blanket all over me. This was after she made me curl up on the floor in the back of Daddy’s Mercury.
    â€œStay down,” Ma said.
    â€œMa, it’s hot.” I was already sweating profusely. I started to rise.
    She pushed me down. “Stay. Craigie, I’m depending on you. When your daddy stops at the drugstore, you get out and sneak in and then you’ll see. You’ll see them in the act.”
    I could taste the salt of my perspiration in my mouth and all I could see were a couple of stripes of light crawling under one edge of the blanket. “But—”
    â€œI’m depending on you. You’ll see. That Lou Ann Narramore.” She closed the door.
    All the windows of the car were rolled up tight and I was good and soaked. Then the driver’s-side door opened and Daddy got in. I wanted to get up and tell him of my presence, but Ma’s words echoed in my head: “in the act.” It was a short, uncomfortable ride to the drugstore. After Daddy got out I waited a few seconds and then I tiptoed from the car to the drugstore door. I opened the door slightly and pushed my hand inside, grabbing the bell which dangled from the inside door handle. I slid the rest of me inside. I crawled down the aisle of colognes and hair tonics to the end so I could see the prescription counter.
    Daddy was standing there, waiting. Then a pretty young woman with a bright smile came from the back room with a couple of bottles. Daddy looked at the bottles.
    â€œThank you, Miss Narramore,” Daddy said.
    â€œBy the way, Dr. Suder,” Lou Ann Narramore said, “Mrs. Jordan came in earlier today and she said—”
    â€œShe’s not to have that prescription refilled,” Daddy said.
    I retreated into the aisle. They hardly knew each other. I was relieved, and shocked that Ma could be so wrong. Then I heard the bell on the door and I looked back at the counter to find Daddy gone. I knocked something off a shelf and became afraid. I ran for the door, threw it open, and plowed right into someone.
    It was Virgil Wallace. He fell back and hit his enormous head on the sidewalk. His hands moved quickly up, grabbing his skull. I was on top of him. I stood to find the lower front of my shirt and the front of my pants covered with a milky substance. I rubbed the stuff between my fingers and screamed. I felt sick. Virgil Wallace was rolling all over the ground now, still holding his head. I could see a little blood creeping out from between his fingers.
    I ran all the way home, through the front door, and up to my bedroom. I sat on my bed, out of breath and scared.
    â€œWell?” Ma asked, bursting into the room.
    â€œNothing,” I panted.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œThey hardly even know each other.”
    Her eyes caught the front of my clothes.
    I glanced down at the mess and began to shake with fear.
    Ma walked to me and stroked the front of my pants and then rubbed the thick substance between her fingers. For the most part it had dried. She looked at me through narrow, angry slits. “Craigie!” she screamed. “I thought you were a good boy!”
    â€œI am a good boy.”
    â€œNo, you’re not. You’ve been pulling on yourself.”
    â€œNo, I haven’t. Really, I haven’t,” I cried. “I ran into Virgil Wallace, the waterhead boy.”
    She didn’t hear my words. She looked at my clothes again. “Come, you have to take a bath.”
    I agreed.
    â€œIf we don’t hurry, you’ll go blind.” She looked at me, shaking her head. “Undress.”
    I pulled my clothes off and then she led me by the hand into the bathroom.
    â€œSit!” she screamed, pointing at the tub.
    I sat in the dry tub. Then Ma