An Argument with Norton. A Discussion Near the Beer Cooler. Verification.

           JimandhisgoodbuddyMyronwerejustoutsidethedoors,eachwithaBudweiserinhisfist.IlookedatBilly,sawhewasstillasleep,andcoveredhimwiththeruglikemover’spad.Hemovedalittle,mutteredsomething,andthenJaystillagain.Ilookedatmywatch.Itwas12:15P.m.Thatseemedutterlyimpossible;itfeltasifatleastfivehourshadpassedsinceIhadfirstgoneintheretolookforsomethingtocoverhimwith.Butthewholething,fromfirsttolast,hadtakenonlyaboutthirty-fiveminutes.

           IwentbacktowhereOlliestoodwithJimandMyron.Olliehadtakenabeerandheofferedmeone.Itookitandgulpeddownhalfthecanatonce,asIhadthatmorningcuttingwood.Itbuckedmeupalittle.

           JimwasJimGrondin.Myron’slastnamewasLaFleur-thathaditscomicside,allright.Myrontheflowerhaddryingbloodonhislips,chin,andcheek.Theeyewiththemouseunderitwasalreadyswellingup.Thegirlinthecranberry-coloredsweatshirtwalkedbyaimlesslyandgaveMyronacautiouslook.IcouldhavetoldherthatMyronwasonlydangeroustoteenageboysintentonprovingtheirmanhood,butsavedmybreath.Afterall,Olliewasright-theyhadonlybeendoingwhattheythoughtwasbest,althoughinablind,fearfulwayratherthaninanyrealcommoninterest.AndnowIneededthemtodowhatIthoughtwasbest.Ididn’tthinkthatwouldbeaproblem.Theyhadbothhadthestuffingknockedoutofthem.Neither-especiallyMyrontheflower-wasgoingtobegoodforanythingforsometimetocome.