Read Online What's eating Gilbert Grape? by Peter Hedges - Free Book Online
Authors: Peter Hedges
Tags: Young men, City and Town Life
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offer the guy some of the candy, but he shakes his head, having lost any appetite.
"But we better take the horse from him, because it's not fair to all the other children . . . who should be showing up any minute now. That wouldn't be fair to them, and since when was life fair? And as soon as this ride stops, I'll take my brother off. Rest assured."
"Oh, man," the carnie says. "Don't. Oh, man. Christ, he should be riding for free."
"But that wouldn't be fair. ..."
"Forget fair, you know what I mean? This kid, your brother, man oh man. He rides for free, I just decided that. He always gets the white horse, too. Always." The carnie wipes his eyes and composes himself.
We watch as Arnie circles around again. He hits his horse to go faster.
"I'm Gilbert Grape," I say. "And that's my brother Arnie."
"I'm Les," the carnie says, preparing to go back to the controls to stop the ride.
"Here," I say, offering the cotton candy.
"No, I couldn't," Les says.
"Please. For me."
He takes it.
Seven free rides later I move toward Arnie. "Hey, buddy. You tired of going in circles?" "Nope."
"I'm getting dizzy just watching you. Let's take a break, huh?" "Nope."
What's Eating Gilbert Grape
"Hey, let's say we go up in the air. Let's go up."
"Nope."
I try to pull him off his horse, but he won't budge. Les is watching this and he says, "What's the problem?"
"I need a break from all this going in circles," I say. "1 got to go up. Rise above this. You understand?"
"Totally."
"So that's the problem."
"Hey, 1 got an idea," Les calls out, taking a ticket from a kid, "I'll watch him for you. He's A-OK right here with me."
I give him the thumbs up and step off the ride as it starts up. My walking away goes unnoticed by the retard. Free at last, I say to myself.
Making my way through the carnival, I pass the Tilt-A-Whirl, the Octopus, the games, and the Bingo tent. Pretty much every person I see I know. They say "Hi" and I say "Hi." 1 pass the tank where Tucker is heckling anyone who passes. He's still dry—and not because people are missing but because no one has tried. He sees me and starts to call out, "GILLLLBEEERRRT GGRRR . . . !" I move out of range fast.
I walk to a booth and pay the seventy-five cents for a ticket in exact change. I turn to find a beehive hairdo blocking my view. I look down. Her mole has expanded since yesterday, and I say, "Hi, Melanie."
"You're avoiding me, aren't you?"
"No. Never."
"You were just looking at me from the merry-go-round."
"Was I?"
"Yes. Didn't you see me waving at you? Flagging you down?"
1 must have mistaken her head for cotton candy. "No, 1 didn't see you."
"Well, you were looking right at me. Got a little sun, I see. You feeling bad about missing yesterday's appointment?"
"Should 1 feel bad?"
"Yes! It's rude and unadultlike to miss an appointment. No Ccill. No apology even."
"I'm sorry."
PETER HEDGES
"Don't apologize to me. It's not me who you were scheduled to see."
I sigh and grab my head. All I want is to ride the Ferris wheel. Somebody or something, please lift me up and out of here.
"Would you like to reschedule? Gilbert?"
"Yes. Tomorrow."
"He picks up his boys at church camp late in the afternoon tomorrow. It's a very hectic day. He's an incredibly busy man. But show up at your regular time, two p.m. He'll get to you when he can."
"Fine, great, yes, looking forward to it."
"Don't forget." Melanie brushes one forefinger over another as if to scold me, smiles like all is forgiven, and sways off, her designer jeans too tight, her hair too big, too bright.
"Here's my ticket." A bald carnie with a Hitler mustache signals for me to sit, the protective bar is secured, he shifts a lever—back and up I go. Each time I descend, this tingly, whooshy feeling washes through my balls. So I think naughty things on this wheel tonight. Sex things.
As I spin, I close my eyes. I picture places far away from Endora, places where no one knows my name.
I must go up and around ten,
"But we better take the horse from him, because it's not fair to all the other children . . . who should be showing up any minute now. That wouldn't be fair to them, and since when was life fair? And as soon as this ride stops, I'll take my brother off. Rest assured."
"Oh, man," the carnie says. "Don't. Oh, man. Christ, he should be riding for free."
"But that wouldn't be fair. ..."
"Forget fair, you know what I mean? This kid, your brother, man oh man. He rides for free, I just decided that. He always gets the white horse, too. Always." The carnie wipes his eyes and composes himself.
We watch as Arnie circles around again. He hits his horse to go faster.
"I'm Gilbert Grape," I say. "And that's my brother Arnie."
"I'm Les," the carnie says, preparing to go back to the controls to stop the ride.
"Here," I say, offering the cotton candy.
"No, I couldn't," Les says.
"Please. For me."
He takes it.
Seven free rides later I move toward Arnie. "Hey, buddy. You tired of going in circles?" "Nope."
"I'm getting dizzy just watching you. Let's take a break, huh?" "Nope."
What's Eating Gilbert Grape
"Hey, let's say we go up in the air. Let's go up."
"Nope."
I try to pull him off his horse, but he won't budge. Les is watching this and he says, "What's the problem?"
"I need a break from all this going in circles," I say. "1 got to go up. Rise above this. You understand?"
"Totally."
"So that's the problem."
"Hey, 1 got an idea," Les calls out, taking a ticket from a kid, "I'll watch him for you. He's A-OK right here with me."
I give him the thumbs up and step off the ride as it starts up. My walking away goes unnoticed by the retard. Free at last, I say to myself.
Making my way through the carnival, I pass the Tilt-A-Whirl, the Octopus, the games, and the Bingo tent. Pretty much every person I see I know. They say "Hi" and I say "Hi." 1 pass the tank where Tucker is heckling anyone who passes. He's still dry—and not because people are missing but because no one has tried. He sees me and starts to call out, "GILLLLBEEERRRT GGRRR . . . !" I move out of range fast.
I walk to a booth and pay the seventy-five cents for a ticket in exact change. I turn to find a beehive hairdo blocking my view. I look down. Her mole has expanded since yesterday, and I say, "Hi, Melanie."
"You're avoiding me, aren't you?"
"No. Never."
"You were just looking at me from the merry-go-round."
"Was I?"
"Yes. Didn't you see me waving at you? Flagging you down?"
1 must have mistaken her head for cotton candy. "No, 1 didn't see you."
"Well, you were looking right at me. Got a little sun, I see. You feeling bad about missing yesterday's appointment?"
"Should 1 feel bad?"
"Yes! It's rude and unadultlike to miss an appointment. No Ccill. No apology even."
"I'm sorry."
PETER HEDGES
"Don't apologize to me. It's not me who you were scheduled to see."
I sigh and grab my head. All I want is to ride the Ferris wheel. Somebody or something, please lift me up and out of here.
"Would you like to reschedule? Gilbert?"
"Yes. Tomorrow."
"He picks up his boys at church camp late in the afternoon tomorrow. It's a very hectic day. He's an incredibly busy man. But show up at your regular time, two p.m. He'll get to you when he can."
"Fine, great, yes, looking forward to it."
"Don't forget." Melanie brushes one forefinger over another as if to scold me, smiles like all is forgiven, and sways off, her designer jeans too tight, her hair too big, too bright.
"Here's my ticket." A bald carnie with a Hitler mustache signals for me to sit, the protective bar is secured, he shifts a lever—back and up I go. Each time I descend, this tingly, whooshy feeling washes through my balls. So I think naughty things on this wheel tonight. Sex things.
As I spin, I close my eyes. I picture places far away from Endora, places where no one knows my name.
I must go up and around ten,
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