Ralph

I couldn’t hear what Fatso was whispering to Lou and was just about to poke him and ask, in case it was something bad, but then he went back to singing TV commercials to himself: “‘Ajax, the foaming cleanser...’”

The water out there kept running.

I sat back on my heels.

The boy sat back, resting up.

There was a window, part of a tree showing, the leaves winking, blue sky behind it. Down at the park right now they were probably all still playing, maybe in another close one:

Come through! Come through!

I wish I could have come through. I wish I could have got a nice little base hit up the middle and won the game, everyone crowding around, whacking me on the back: Way to go, Ralph! Way to come through! Wait’ll your dad hears!

Fatso was singing about Pepsodent now: “‘You’ll wonder where the yellow went...’”

The water out there just kept on running.

She better get back pretty soon. I was starting to get this feeling I get when a story starts petering out, like a balloon losing air, going all floppy. I hate that feeling. I hate that feeling worse than anything there is.

“‘See the USA in your Chevrolet...’”