Read Online The Adventures of Flash Jackson by William Kowalski - Free Book Online

see—I just was a little worried about him, and I thought it might be a good idea for him to talk through whatever was on his mind.
    â€œAll right!” he yelled, throwing his arms up in the air. “All right, all right, all right! Just shut up!”
    â€œSorry,” I said.
    â€œNot you ,” he said. “Them.”
    â€œWho?” I asked, though I knew who he meant—the voices.
    â€œMy head hurts,” he said. “Okay? It hurts, so don’t be loud.”
    I stayed quiet.
    â€œThe pillars can go right here, along the road,” he said, pointing to where he’d been shuffling around in the dirt. I looked. He’d marked out a big X with his feet. “One here, and one over there, and one down there, and so on. Got it?”
    I followed where he was pointing and saw that he’d made a whole line of big X’s in the road, about fifty feet apart.
    â€œAnd the front doors will go over there,” he went on. “The stage can be where that field is—we’ll have to level it out, but I think it will work. And the dressing rooms will have to be on the second floor, or maybe in the basement. If we even have a basement. I’m not sure if we can, because it depends on whether I can get John Fitzgerald to loan me his backhoe. But it’s going to be a big one, see? A really big one.”
    â€œA big what?” I asked, thinking meanwhile, Note to self: Call John Fitzgerald and tell him to keep an eye on his backhoe .
    He sighed. “A theater, Haley,” he said. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell people, but nobody listens. A theater of the human spirit.”
    I was impressed, though I had no idea what he was talking about. Whatever he had in that unraveling little mind of his, it certainly sounded grand.
    â€œWho’s this theater for?” I asked.
    â€œAnyone who’s human qualifies as a performer,” he said. “It’s automatic. You can get up onstage and do whatever you want. But first, I want it to be for the Indians. They get first shot at it.”
    I had to pause a minute to be sure I heard him right.
    â€œYou’re building a theater for Indians?” I said. “Here, in Mannville?”
    â€œIt’s not just for them,” he said. “It’s for everyone . But they should have the first chance, because they haven’t been allowed to tell their story yet. This will be a place where people can come and tell their stories. They’ve been silenced , Haley. It’s not right. Someone has to help them get their voice back, and I’m going to do it.”
    â€œMy goodness,” I said.
    â€œYou think I’m crazy,” he said.
    â€œNo, I don’t.”
    â€œYes, you do.”
    â€œFrankie…”
    â€œLook,” he said. He jammed his cap on his head and looked at me. His expression was wild and haunted. There was a kind of desperation in his eyes, and that look he normally had—the look of being homesick, soulsick—seemed to have spilled over his whole being. “I know how to raise money for it and everything,” he said. “ You don’t have to help. I don’t need you . I can do it alone. It’s important, Haley. Someone has to give them their voice back, or I don’t know what will happen. But it’ll be bad. It’s already bad. And it’s going to get worse.”
    â€œWhat’s going to get worse?”
    â€œThe state of communication,” he said. He looked up at the sky and licked his lips. Then he took his hat off again and started twisting it. “The state of communication in the world today,” he said, “is very, very bad.”
    â€œHow are you going to raise the money?” I asked him.
    â€œI can’t tell you that,” he said. “It’s classified. But when I get it, I’ll build the theater and they can come from all over. People from the whole world can come right here,