This Boy's Life Page #5

-No.

-Don't be afraid.

-No, you'II hurt me.

-Just try it.

-No.

Try it. I'II hurt you

if you don't do it. Come on!

Come on.

Let's go, goddamn it!

Let's start, you IittIe

f***ing sissy aII your goddamn Iife.

Quitter! Gonna be a goddamn quitter?

Let's go! Damn you.

Don't go shy. You're acting as sissy as

LittIe Miss Arthur GayIe, you know that?

I'm gonna caII you

LittIe Miss Jackie WoIff.

My, yes. Oh, Jackie.

My, yes. LittIe Miss Jackie WoIff.

Is that what you want me to caII you?

Is that what you want the kids

to caII you? Jackie WoIff?

Come on. Let's go.

Come on. Let's do it.

Jesus Christ,

if you're gonna act Iike--

You just about

got dry-guIched, mister.

Ask him again, pIease.

I need it so much.

I asked him aIready. I asked him

Iast week. I asked him this morning.

He wants you to keep the route.

Then make him give me the money.

It's mine, and I earned it. It's $220.

He won't. He wants to keep it

untiI you reaIIy need it.

It's not fair! I ought to be abIe

to keep my own money.

But it's mine, Mom!

Ask him about my gym shoes.

I can practice barefoot.

For games, I need them.

I won't do it, Jack.

I won't be a referee.

The bride won't argue.

The bride won't even raise her voice.

I'II teII you what she'II do.

The bride wiII go over there and

sIap the heII out of the bride's son.

Does the bride's son

want his face sIapped?

I hate it here, you know that?

I wanna just get up and go.

I don't have another get-up-and-go

Ieft in me. Do you understand that?

I can't run anymore.

I've hit a brick waII here.

This whoIe thing isn't perfect for me

either. Let me impress that on you.

I don't exactIy wake up singing

every morning.

I know you don't beIieve me now,

but it's the best thing.

Okay?

I'm gonna make this marriage work.

I won't join in any fights.

I won't even raise my voice.

You see these?

He picked them for me Iast night

on his way home.

Big deaI.

I'm trying to concentrate

on the good stuff.

What do you think?

I think I Iook Iike a fooI.

But who cares?

Six weeks to graduation

and CaIifornia here I come.

You have to try and concentrate

on the good stuff.

Come on.

You Iike my dog?

-Yeah, he's nice.

-He's smart too. He can taIk.

Sure, I just about beIieve you.

Pepper, what's on a tree?

Bark.

I wanna ask you,

how's the worId treating you?

Rough?

I know how you mean.

That's dumb.

A IittIe funny, though.

How come your dad

never comes to meetings?

I don't have a dad.

I never did.

I sprang fuII-bIown

from my mother's imagination.

Wanna waIk home with me and Pepper?

I knew I'd Iike you,

because you're an aIien.

An aIien?

You and I don't beIong in Concrete.

This pIace wouId Iike to kiII us.

Come on, that's a IittIe dramatic.

-You think so?

-Yeah.

Do you know what chickens do

when one chicken's different?

With bIack feathers on its head, say?

They peck at that bIack spot

untiI the chicken's dead.

They can't stand that it's different.

We're both different. Your difference

is something other than my difference.

But we're both aIiens here.

See, I don't exactIy feeI Iike an aIien.

I've got friends, you know.

They're idiots. You act Iike an idiot

when you're around them.

A prediction:

If you stay in Concrete,

you'II wind up working at the A & P.

Either that, or you'II go on a rampage

with a hunting rifIe.

And you'II wind up a recIuse who

Iikes to dress in his mama's oId cIothes.

Maybe.

Maybe.

One thing I know...

...no matter how many times I repeat...

...my primary goaI

is to get out of Concrete.

Burma-Shave!

Thank you, Joe Feeney.

And here's a happy tune that features

our happy Norwegian.

''The Laughing Polka. ''

See, honey? You gotta try

and find the good stuff.

You're a hog.

Don't teII me you're not.

How do you know Skipper

didn't do it, or Norma?

-I toId them to stay away from this candy.

-How do you know I ate any?

I counted them. You hogged down

1 1 chocoIates since yesterday.

So what?

That makes you a hog!

I just wanna estabIish that fact.

Mr. Hotshot Hog and I have

just been estabIishing some facts:

One, he's a pig who gobbIes down candy.

Two, he Iies about it.

Three, he Iays around on his candy-ass,

day and night, reading.

And four, he's not getting $ 1 0 gym

shoes. That's what we've come up with.

Dad, just Iay off.

Don't give me that sh*t!

Shut your goddamn pie-hoIe.

Why don't you take up for me?

Why don't you heIp me

straighten him out?

AII he ever does is read or Iisten

to music or sing. I'm sick of it.

''BIue Monday.''

I'm so sick of that sh*t!

When he's not singing, he's watching

TV. Don't say you don't.

When I come home,

I feeI the TV to see if it's warm...

...and it aIways is. This is the news.

I want you to know I'm wise to you.

Big deaI!

I don't wanna do my paper route.

I bet you don't. You'd rather

Iay on your ass and read aII day.

You're going to deIiver those papers if

I have to waIk behind you with a whip.

Yeah? Then give me the money

that I earned.

I'm putting it in the bank

for when you need it.

-You'II thank me Iater.

-Make him buy gym shoes.

How can I pIay basketbaII

without any gym--?

It's not the shoes, is it?

Or the candy, or anything eIse.

It's me. You can't stand

the fact that I exist.

No, it's not that at aII.

It's just that I--

You have to be weII-behaved.

Your rich daddy doesn't care.

Somebody's gotta train you.

You need to be trained...

...not to be a f***ing hog

and hog everybody's candy!

-What's the matter?

-I wiII not referee!

I think you've upset your mother, so

Iet's go to the Scouts and Iet her rest.

Honey, you just Iay down

and rest a whiIe.

Now Iook what you did.

Got her upset too.

Check for the tongue tonight, otherwise

you won't get your Iifesaving badge.

Whose dog is that on the porch?

Yours.

-Mine?

-Yeah, you said you wanted a dog.

-A coIIie. Not that thing.

-WeII, he's yours. You paid for him.

-Get ready for Norma's pIay.

-What do you mean, I paid for him?

My Winchester's gone!

That dog's purebred EngIish buIIdog.

A champion. Don't forget that.

I don't want it!

You're out of Iuck.

That rifIe's in SeattIe.

I want my rifIe!

Want in one hand and

sh*t in the other.

That Winchester was mine!

Champ is your dog. I trade some piece

of crap for a vaIuabIe hunting dog...

-...and aII you do is piss and moan.

-I'm not pissing and moaning.

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