Part 3 (1/2)

I er a misplaced cracker but a by-God sy of a hard sentence

But checking my PO in the student union the next day, brushed past by the sons and daughters of the professional class-ed) peers-I sensed a dashed line around me where invisible scissors would soon clip ht-toothed, i if not democratically inclined vis-a-vis the likes of me They blew pot smoke from their joints into my pursed lips and paid ave me rides in paid-for cars Their parents steered h doors where theand hard They passedappetizers that cost ht us on paycheck night They invitedand Easter They seemed to trust my scrappy climb out of the lower class would allowutensil by i, chimpanzeelike, their moverown frorateful for-could make me hate them Born on third base, my daddy always said of the well off, and think they hit a home run

But by God, I could outdrink the little suckers, and when the dashed lines around ht take up a held-out bottle

Faced with a boy I had a crush on-a bow-legged Missouri coith the face and forerly took the tequila his friend handedlime and salt, I tucked my hair behind my ears and tossed back a shot As that one went down like bleach, I was holding up lass for another

Whoa, Brando said, looks like you've done this before

Absolutely, I said

She's froirl? Brando said over his shoulder, before turning back to the two girls who'd presented themselves to him like dinner mints I threw back another shot, which scalded a little channel through me The boys cheered By the third shot, the tequila seemed less poisonous By the fourth, I felt a cool blue h I'd vowed not to drink that week (I had an anthro paper to finish), I'd spied Brando doing shots with his pals and wedged into the group He cut uitar case, and as he started to strap on the instrument, I saw in the case's blue velvet bottom a weathered copy of Joyce's Portrait of the Artist, Portrait of the Artist, which felt like a further sign that ere carved from the same wood That novel was one I innately knew to be unreservedly great, and whose first paragraph somebody started slurrily to recite: which felt like a further sign that ere carved from the same wood That novel was one I innately knew to be unreservedly great, and whose first paragraph somebody started slurrily to recite: Once upon a ti down along the road and thisthe roadI kneas earping onto the frozen earth, then girls were steering ht and ht a ride to Dallas, then took the silver bullet-shaped bus into the Leechfield station, where Daddy stood in creased khakis with comb one loose and leathery For the first ti, You could use a few pounds

Passing through the greenish neon of the station, I felt time curve back, and us in it The place seelass was s transistor radio with a coat-hanger antenna In his raised-up chair was a thin lady with conked hair slicked alongside her head

Outside, Daddy threw roaned with rust, the hollow ti my arrival better than church bells For five sidethere my mind went skittery as water flicked on a skillet Even with theopen, the truck was redolent with Caoop Daddy used to clean oil off his hands with There was a hint of cu of corn-husk ta under it all like current-what got hiht was the oak smell of wood barrels where whiskey soaked up flavor

For the first time in front of me, he drew a pint bottle from under his seat He put the upended lid in the ashtray, and before he handed the bottle over, he drew out a corner of his shi+rttail to wipe the top with, saying, Want a swig?

As a kid sitting on the bar, I'd sipped beer through the salted triangle of his alu every day that Mother had long since stopped asking And he'd sure as hell never handed me any hard liquor

Daddy's wink echoed our old conspiracy: uarded collusions were traded in whispers and giggles that he and I were lea a courtesy sip But the arolass ullet, after which a little blue flame of pleasure roared back up h my middle

As he went to screw the lid back on,out of its own accord, and I said, Can I have another taste?

That taste startedout s were still easier to coe-in no way a star, but neither the abject flop I'd figured on Daddy carried rade reports in his ancient wallet

But it's a truism, I think, that drunks like to run off Every reality, no -save maybe death row-has an escape route or rabbit hole Soo inward into a sullen spiral, and raphic cure My ents of transformation-pick a nen or e at the end of e to run off,for Austin Or all the rich kids were going abroad Ortoo hard, and I couldn't face losingthe hairnet I floundered and skipped classes that winter till, shortly before finals that spring, I just stopped showing up

Over a hotfudge store one afternoon, I tried to make my slapdash bailout sound like a literary escapade pro done while working to save up Then I'll co

shi+rley and I have been talking about that, Walt said, his long spoon scraping the lass bottom

And you've decided to donate a ht?

If we adopted you, he said, the college would have to let you go to school as a faculty child gratis

I lowered my spoon Stunned, I was, and touched They'd never fall for that, I said

I think they'd have to, Walt said, signaling for a check shi+rley talked to a lawyer friend of ours

Lifelong, I'd been trying to weasel into another tribe Back inup on people's porches co around their dens till they kickedwith the garubby hand into their popcorn bowl-I could convince myself I was one of them A few times it almost surprised o hoo ho for his wallet, Walt explained how easy it'd be He and shi+rley had talked it over, and even the kids were all for it His youngest boy had asked whose rooe my name? I said Somehow that would seal my betrayal

I don't think so, he said Or you can petition to change it back

The sun arlass, and I stared at the door, wishi+ng with all h to lay his clai how he appreciated it, but-he'd squeeze my shoulder-he just had to keep me

The truth was, if it helped with n ally loppingso hard to shed

So I lied that it would hurt hbors I horned in on-right before I figured they'd throw me out-that I had to rush home for a curfew that didn't exist

Well, think about it, Walt said We were at the register by then

How'll I ever pay you back? I said

For what? He limped back to leave a bill under the salt shaker

All these lunches, dinners, jobs

You're not gonna pay lass door, and I stepped into spring air

When you're in onna pick up soh to envision er vote of confidence than the adoption offer

When I asked him to drop me at the health service for the sore throat I couldn't shake all spring, he said, Maybe it's just hard to say goodbye

I whipped around so he wouldn't see my eyes fill, since I was dead sure I wouldn't make it back up there

But Walt never took his eyes offto establish a base, he stayed in touch No matter where I had a mailbox, his letters sat inside

Which isretail down in Austin-I calitzy restaurant where I could bartend Even there, Walt showed up with other professors to eat the bar's crappy sandwiches He always left a book or two or a concert ticket, an article on dream research or ave up onmatriculated

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