Read Online The Bus Driver Who Wanted to Be God & Other Stories by Etgar Keret - Free Book Online Page A

the hole in the fence behind the sheds.”
    I was glad that Sivan cared so much for me, even more than I was scared.
    Sharon was waiting for me behind the sheds. “Don’t even think about it,” he said, “you haven’t got a chance.”
    I turned around. Gilead was standing behind me.
    â€œI always knew you were a worm,” said Sharon, “but I never thought you were a rat.”
    â€œWhy did you snitch on us, you piece of shit?” saidGilead, giving me a hard shove. I stumbled into Sharon and he pushed me away.
    â€œI’ll tell you why he snitched,” said Sharon, “because our Eli is jealous as hell. He looks at me and sees that I’m a better student than him, a better athlete, and I’ve got a girlfriend who’s the prettiest girl in the school, while he’s still a poor virgin, and it eats him up.”
    Sharon took off his leather jacket and handed it to Gilead. “Okay, Eli, you did it, you screwed me,” he said, unfastening the strap of his diver’s watch and putting it into his pocket. “My dad thinks I’m a thief, the police almost charged me. I won’t get the outstanding student award. Are you happy now?”
    I wanted to tell him it wasn’t that, it was because of Sholem, who was also in a commando unit, because he cried like a baby on Holocaust Day. Instead I said, “It’s not that at all . . . You shouldn’t have stolen his bike, it didn’t make sense. You have no honor.” My voice shook as I spoke.
    â€œYou hear that, Gilead, this whining rat is telling us about honor. Honor is not snitching on your friends, you shit,” he said, balling his fist. “Now Gilead and me are going to teach you all about honor the hard way.”
    I wanted to get away from there, to run, raise my hands to protect my face, but the fear paralyzed me. Then suddenly, out of nowhere came the sound of the siren. I’d completely forgotten that it was Remembrance Day for the Fallen. Sharon and Gilead came to attention. I looked at them standing there like shop window dolls and suddenlyall my fear went away. Gilead, standing rigidly to attention, eyes closed, holding Sharon’s jacket, looked like an oversized coat hanger. And Sharon, with his murderous look and clenched fists suddenly looked like a small boy imitating a pose he’d seen in an action movie. I walked to the hole in the fence and walked through slowly and quietly, while behind me I heard Sharon hiss, “We’re still going to fuck you.” But he didn’t budge. I went on walking home through the streets with all the frozen people looking like wax dummies, the sound of the siren surrounding me with an invisible shield.

Good Intentions
    T here was a thick envelope waiting in my mailbox. I opened it and counted the dough. It was all there. So was the note with the name of the mark, a passport picture, and the place where I could find him. I cursed. Don’t know why. I’m a pro and a pro isn’t supposed to do that, but it just came out. No, I didn’t have to read the name, I recognized the guy in the picture. Grace. Patrick Grace. Nobel Peace Prize Laureate. A good man. The only good man I’d ever known. When it came to good men, there was probably nobody in the world that could match him.
    I’d met Patrick Grace only once. It was at the orphanage in Atlanta. Like animals they treated us there. All year long, we wallowed in filth, they hardly fed us, and if anyone so much as opened his mouth, they let us have it with a belt.Lots of times they’d give you the belt without bothering to open the buckle. When Grace arrived, they made sure to get us cleaned up—us and that shit hole they called an orphanage. Before he came in, the director gave us a briefing: Anyone who blabbered would be in for it later. We’d all had our share of his medicine, enough to know he meant business. When Grace entered our