Jim & Me by Dan Gutman

Author:Dan Gutman
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780061973260
Publisher: HarperCollins

“This is my kinda place!” Bobby said.

Bobby acted like he knew where he was going, so I followed him. The street was a buzz of activity. Men with straw hats and mustaches were everywhere. It was like that was their uniform. Women wore huge floppy hats with flowers on top. Restaurants advertised dinner for 15 cents. There were pushcarts selling all kinds of stuff. I saw a guy lifting a big block of ice out of a truck and rolling it up somebody’s front steps. I guess people didn’t even have refrigerators yet.

There were lots of movie theaters, showing films like The Last Days of Pompeii and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I wondered if they were silent movies. There were live theaters too, and each one featured an assortment of sword swallowers, fire breathers, glass eaters, and other weird acts: The Amazing Tomsoni and His Trick Bicyclists. The Duncan Twins. Buck and Bubbles.

“This is my kinda place!” Bobby said.

We had walked a couple of blocks when Bobby pulled me into a doorway with a sign over it that said EIGHTH AVENUE SALOON.

“Wait!” I said, stopping at the door. “This is a bar!”

“Duh!”

“Kids aren’t allowed in bars,” I protested.

“Will you relax, Stoshack?” Bobby said. “It’s okay as long as we don’t drink. My parents took me to Las Vegas once, and kids were allowed in the casino as long as they didn’t gamble. Same thing. Just look like you belong.”

He was right. Nobody paid any attention to us at all.

There was sawdust on the floor, and a big sign that said NO FIGHTING! I noticed an autographed picture of Jim Thorpe on the wall, and photos of the other Giants too.

“Look!” Bobby said. “There he is.”

Jim was at the bar with a drink in his hand and two empty glasses in front of him. Three guys wearing bowler hats surrounded him. We muscled our way over until we were close enough to hear them.

“So what did you say when the king of Sweden put that gold medal around your neck?” one of the guys asked Jim.

“Thanks, King!” Jim said, and the three guys roared with laughter. Jim leaned his head back and downed the drink. One of the guys signaled to the bartender to bring Jim another one. He did, and then said he had to get a new bottle from the cellar. It looked like Jim was a regular in this place.

“He’s drinking like a fish!” I told Bobby.

Jim had started telling a story about the Olympics, when some other guy staggered over to the group. He was a big guy, and he wasn’t dressed nicely like the other three. He had on an undershirt that showed off his muscles.

“Ain’t you Jim Thorpe?” the guy asked.

“So they say,” Jim said, taking a swig of his drink.

“I hear you’re one tough Indian,” the guy said.

“They say that too.”

“Well, you don’t look so tough to me.”

“Maybe not,” Jim said, turning to get a good look at the guy.

“You know how to box?” the guy asked.

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