Ballast Page #4

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We'd want to do that together.

I'm sorry about your brother,

Lawrence.

It's hard for me to talk about it too.

But I want you to know I'm sorry.

What's that?

Pre-algebra.

Yikes.

We're making some spaghetti.

Would you like some?

No. I'm all right.

It's just spaghetti. No big deal.

I know...

that the things you been doing...

with James are genuine.

It's confusing, but it makes sense.

I mean, genetically and all.

That's why I'm saying I'm sorry.

I don't know what I'm saying, but...

What the f*** you doing?

Sh*t!

Is this what it was all about?

Is this what you was after?

God damn it,

I already took him out of school!

Why you doing this?!

Is he still gonna teach me tomorrow?

I don't know.

Am I going back to my school?

No.

Come on, Lawrence.

- Lawrence...

- Please just leave me alone.

He's gonna try it again.

I'm late, James.

I'll help you with your math

when I get back tonight...

but until then you're gonna have to try

by yourself, okay?

Hey, baby, it's me. Pick up. James?

Hello?

Uh-huh.

I tried, but it's too hard.

I did. I don't know how to do it.

I did look at that one.

No, he went somewhere.

I don't know.

Where are the shells, James?

- Show me.

- Shells for a gun?

- They 're not in there.

- Where are they?

Out in the field.

Where?

- You took his gun?

- No.

Because I hid it from you.

But you got another one, don't you?

No.

God damn it, James!

You promised me no more guns.

- Where?

- Farther.

Why you doing this?

You got your books?

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