Read Online The Eyes of Kid Midas by Neal Shusterman - Free Book Online
Authors: Neal Shusterman
Ads: Link
wasn't the right word. He was becoming. Becoming what? he wondered. He decided it didn't really matter, because whatever it was, it was better than what he had been before.
A few other people noticed Kevin's frightening transformation.
Josh was one. When Josh saw Kevin waltz inthat Tuesday morning after their ill-fated shopping spree, he knew right away that Kevin wasn't going to give the glasses a rest. Josh, who had admittedly been a little greed-meister the day before, had learned his lesson when it was crammed down his throat. The glasses were bad news. Period. But Kevin didn't get it.
"The storm's still growing," Josh would often remind Kevin.
"So, isn't there a drought?" Kevin would answer, letting the storm roll off the top of his head like water off Scotchguard. The truth was that the storm made the news every day. "An inland hurricane" was what they were now calling it. They named it Hurricane Gladys, but it should have been called Kevin.
Bertram also noticed Kevin's new station in life. Bertram would chew his pink cud and watch in disgust as Kevin actually chummed around with older, respectable kids.
In Bertram's book you were born into your place in life. Bertram's place was well guarded and well worn. He knew who he was and what was expected of him; he was and would always be the Mean Kid—and he liked that just fine.
But it seemed Kevin had forgotten who he was.
Kevin was the Victim. He had been the Victim since first grade, and someday in the far-off future, when Bertram was teaching his own kids all about being mean, Kevin Midas would be suffering some dumb life in some stupid boring town, the Victim of some big stupid company that would fire him for no good reason.
Thoughts like this kept Bertram going.
But seeing Kevin Midas succeeding—this didn't fit the Bertram World View. It made him chomping mad.
Kevin was wise to keep away from Bertram— and he did for three whole days. On Friday, however, the fine threads of Kevin's hand-made universe began to unravel.
CHAPTER 8
Kevin's Tangled Web
Winds blew in from the north that Friday—strange winds that swirled together, forming tiny candy- wrapper tornadoes on the baseball field.
It was all some distant effect of the inland hurricane, which still had meteorologists scratching their heads. These were the kinds of winds that stirred kids up, and like the others, Kevin had felt the itch of excitement, like static electricity, all morning.
During lunch, Kevin sat by himself beneath the flapping sails of a lunch-table umbrella. The rest of the week he had managed to surround himself with other kids, but since he was not producing an endless supply of goodies from his backpack today, no one was very interested in him.
That was fine with Kevin, because he had a plan to weave. He stared out into the baseball field, where kids were sitting in small groups eating their lunches, and he thought long and hard.
"I'd like it a lot better if I could see your eyes," said Josh as he took a seat next to Kevin. "What's so interesting out in right field?"
Kevin took off his glasses and squinted at Josh. "Nicole Patterson."
"Forget her," advised Josh. "She thinks you're a pinhead."
"Dare me, Josh," said Kevin. "Dare me to go over and talk to her."
"I dare you," said Josh with a devious grin.
"Now dare me to ask her out."
Josh laughed, beginning to enjoy the game. "I dare you to!" he said.
Kevin smiled. "Remember," he said, "you dared me." Kevin stood up and prepared himself for the excursion. His clothes looked great, his shoes were tied, his nose was clean, and his armpits were about as fresh as they could be after half a day at school. He was ready.
"What are you gonna do if she says no?"
Kevin grinned a grin as big as all outdoors. "How could she resist a man in shades?" He put his glasses back on. They hugged his ears and nose, no longer slipping off, as if his head had swelled to fit them . . . or as if they had sized themselves down to
A few other people noticed Kevin's frightening transformation.
Josh was one. When Josh saw Kevin waltz inthat Tuesday morning after their ill-fated shopping spree, he knew right away that Kevin wasn't going to give the glasses a rest. Josh, who had admittedly been a little greed-meister the day before, had learned his lesson when it was crammed down his throat. The glasses were bad news. Period. But Kevin didn't get it.
"The storm's still growing," Josh would often remind Kevin.
"So, isn't there a drought?" Kevin would answer, letting the storm roll off the top of his head like water off Scotchguard. The truth was that the storm made the news every day. "An inland hurricane" was what they were now calling it. They named it Hurricane Gladys, but it should have been called Kevin.
Bertram also noticed Kevin's new station in life. Bertram would chew his pink cud and watch in disgust as Kevin actually chummed around with older, respectable kids.
In Bertram's book you were born into your place in life. Bertram's place was well guarded and well worn. He knew who he was and what was expected of him; he was and would always be the Mean Kid—and he liked that just fine.
But it seemed Kevin had forgotten who he was.
Kevin was the Victim. He had been the Victim since first grade, and someday in the far-off future, when Bertram was teaching his own kids all about being mean, Kevin Midas would be suffering some dumb life in some stupid boring town, the Victim of some big stupid company that would fire him for no good reason.
Thoughts like this kept Bertram going.
But seeing Kevin Midas succeeding—this didn't fit the Bertram World View. It made him chomping mad.
Kevin was wise to keep away from Bertram— and he did for three whole days. On Friday, however, the fine threads of Kevin's hand-made universe began to unravel.
CHAPTER 8
Kevin's Tangled Web
Winds blew in from the north that Friday—strange winds that swirled together, forming tiny candy- wrapper tornadoes on the baseball field.
It was all some distant effect of the inland hurricane, which still had meteorologists scratching their heads. These were the kinds of winds that stirred kids up, and like the others, Kevin had felt the itch of excitement, like static electricity, all morning.
During lunch, Kevin sat by himself beneath the flapping sails of a lunch-table umbrella. The rest of the week he had managed to surround himself with other kids, but since he was not producing an endless supply of goodies from his backpack today, no one was very interested in him.
That was fine with Kevin, because he had a plan to weave. He stared out into the baseball field, where kids were sitting in small groups eating their lunches, and he thought long and hard.
"I'd like it a lot better if I could see your eyes," said Josh as he took a seat next to Kevin. "What's so interesting out in right field?"
Kevin took off his glasses and squinted at Josh. "Nicole Patterson."
"Forget her," advised Josh. "She thinks you're a pinhead."
"Dare me, Josh," said Kevin. "Dare me to go over and talk to her."
"I dare you," said Josh with a devious grin.
"Now dare me to ask her out."
Josh laughed, beginning to enjoy the game. "I dare you to!" he said.
Kevin smiled. "Remember," he said, "you dared me." Kevin stood up and prepared himself for the excursion. His clothes looked great, his shoes were tied, his nose was clean, and his armpits were about as fresh as they could be after half a day at school. He was ready.
"What are you gonna do if she says no?"
Kevin grinned a grin as big as all outdoors. "How could she resist a man in shades?" He put his glasses back on. They hugged his ears and nose, no longer slipping off, as if his head had swelled to fit them . . . or as if they had sized themselves down to
Similar Books
