9723
REFA
gotta do is decide to be crazy, concentrate on it, and
the next thing ya know, bingo!, you'll be crazy."
"You already are crazy!" Davis scoffed. "We all are!
The only difference between us and him is that he
gets checks for it and we don't. Pisses me off, too. I
gotta sit around outta work with nothin', an' they
just give him checks for bein' crazy. It pisses me
"I think he really is crazy, though," Billy said. "I
saw it in the paper."
"What?" Davis barked. "Just because he attacked a
couple of police dogs with his teeth? I could do that,
too, if someone wanted to pay me for it! You wanna
pay me? I'll do it, too! I tell ya, it pisses me off!"
"You see me deck the jerk?"
Billy rolled his eyes. "No, Ron, I missed it."
"He don't know no karate," Shane taunted.
"Wasn't cool to punch him," Billy criticized.
"It wasn't cool to tell 'im yer real job!"
"Why? What does it matter?"
"In case we roll 'im."
"Roll him? We're just messing with him!"
Ron's bare chest protruded like a rooster's. "We
were just messin' with his head, 'til we found out he
knows karate! Now I'm gonna kick his head in!"
"I wanna kick his head in, too!" Shane bobbed.
"But I wanna kick his head in," Davis said.
"You'll have to wait 'til after I'm done."
"And after I'm done."
"But then there won't be nothin' left!"
"Too bad!"
"Yeah, too bad!"
"He won't be back," Billy predicted.
The Kid came back, carrying a case of beer. It was
dark, and the street lights were completely lit as the
Kid's silhouette trudged across the park.
Immediately upon his return, Shane and Davis start-
ed stealing cans and stashing them in the bushes.
"You're a fool," Billy told the Kid.
"Why do ya say that, Luke?"
"For one thing, these guys are broke; they don't like
people buying their way in with them. And for anoth-
er thing, they especially don't like people mouthing
off, saying they know karate."
"But I do know karate! And you listen here, Luke. I
don't buy my way in with nobody. These guys obvi-
ously like me."
"I hope you do know karate, because you might
need to use it."
"You make me laugh! Wanna arm wrestle?"
Shane jumped into the seat across from the Kid.
"Yeah, let's arm wrestle! Billy, er, Luke, you be ref."
The others moved in tight to see. The Kid put his
elbow on the table with his hand in the air as he
stared securely into Shane's eyes. Shane snickered
and put his elbow on the table, too. They locked
thumbs. The Kid raised his elbow, turning his hand
upside down to get a better grip. Shane did the
same. The Kid did it again. Shane did it again.
"You gonna wrestle or play musical thumbs?"
They started over again, locking thumbs in the air,
then simultaneously setting elbows on the table.
Billy wrapped his palm over their interlocked
hands. "Ready?"
"Yeah."
"One, two, three, go!"
A throbbing wave of tension burst between their
arms. The Kid turned his wrist on the snap. "Come
on, Shane, er, ah, Don! Come on!" Their hands were
immobile, upright straining. The Kid was cool with
an antagonizing gaze fixed on Shane. Shane's face
quivered with pain. The Kid made his move. He
slowly began pushing Shane's arm down.
"Come on, Don. Don't let him do it! Come on!",
Shane's arm was forced closer to the table surface.
"Come on, Don! Don't let that wimp beat you!"
Shane's hand banged limply against the table top.
"No fair! He beat me on the snap! I want a
rematch!"
"Ya had yer turn!" Davis bumped Shane out of the
way, taking his seat. "It's my turn." Davis locked
thumbs with the Kid. They set their elbows down.
Davis wasn't happy with the grip: they started over.
Davis gave a slight tilt of his head.
"One, two, three, go!"
They heaved violently on the snap. The Kid managed
again to turn his wrist first.
"Come on, Mack!" Come on!"
The Kid was cool. Davis struggled desperately. The
Kid began easing Davis' hand toward defeat.
Neal snapped his can open. "I'm surprised you
came back."
"I thought you guys wanted me to come back."
"I wanted you to come back." Davis assured.
"Me, too!" Shane reassured.
Billy leaned over to the Kid. "That was your chance
to get away."
"My chance to get away from what?"
Ron shrieked in the Kid's face, "To get away from
us, you moren!"
"Why would I wanna get away from you guys? You
guys are cool!"
"Ya know," Ron stepped back, "we ain't actually
killed no one before, but yer lookin' to be our first."
The Kid beamed playfully.
"He's serious," Billy kidded.
"You ain't afraid?" Davis asked.
"Why should I be afraid?"
Ron lurched at the Kid. Neal held him back.
"What's wrong with him?"
Still holding Ron, Neal replied, "He done warned ya
that if ya answered another question with a ques-
Above: You're coming at the ledge you're
thinking: Smith? lipslide? or tailslide? Shawn
Mandoli decided on a backside Smith.
Photo by Lance Dalgart
Right: We've seen another photo of Mike
Frazier busting a frontside slob in another
mag, but this one of Lincoln Ueda blows it
away. Photo by Luke Ogden
tion, he'd rip yer lower lip off!"
"I thought he was kidding."
"He wasn't kidding!" Dave growled. "Don't do it
again! Now, answer the question!"
"What was the question again?"
Ron was on fire. "He's askin' for it!" He looked
around at the gang. "Ain't he askin' for it?"
"Definitely askin' for it!" Shane concurred.
"You ain't afraid?" Davis repeated.
"I ain't got no reason to be afraid."
Neal was amused. "Yeah, Kid? Why's 'at?"
"Cause I know karate."
"You know karate!" Ron scowled.
The Kid nodded, yes. "What's your names anyway?"
The gang eyeballed one another, smirking.
Neal put his hand on Shane's shoulder. "This guy
here's Don Juan."
"What kind a work you do, Don?"
Neal answered, "Ain't none of us here got jobs,
'cept Luke Skytalker over there." He was pointing at
Billy. He then pointed to Davis' bowl haircut and
jelly beer gut. "That there's Mack Kelly. And the last
one over there," pointing to Ron's stout build, "is
Billy Kidder. I'm B Ceegar Booper."
"Nice to meet you guys. My name's Walter. So,
what kind of job ya got, Luke?"
Billy forgot that he was supposed to be Luke.
"Luke?"
Neal elbowed Billy.
"Huh?"
"I asked, what kind a job ya got?"
"Oh, I'm a dishwasher at Antonio's."
Neal's eyes smacked the Kid's face. "How 'bout
you, Walter? What kind a work you do?"
"I ain't gotta do no work. They just gimme checks
for bein' crazy."
Shane's eyes were wide. "For being crazy?"
"Yep."
"How come yer not locked up if yer crazy?"
"Gots something to do with my institutional rights.
They can't keep me locked up, 'cause I'm crazy."
Ron checked the cardboard carton. "We're outta
beer again. Ya gonna buy some more?"
"We're out of beer already?"
Ron's fist flew, cracking the Kid's crown, hurling
him from his seat, onto the grass.
"Why'd ya do that?"
"He warned you again and again not to answer his
questions with questions," Billy explained.
"And especially not if I ask the question!"
"Sorry about that. I forgot."
"Are you gonna buy more beer?"
The Kid climbed to his feet. "I'll be right back." And
off he went.
"Buy a case this time!" Davis ordered, then lowered
his voice. "We already got a six stashed away."
They laughed.
"Damn," Shane moaned, "I shoulda been crazy
when I had the chance. I didn't know it was worth
so much money."
"What d'ya mean, when you had the chance?" Neal
wailed. "Ya can be crazy anytime ya want. All ya
190
66
67