Spinning Out by David Stahler Jr

Author:David Stahler Jr.
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Young Adult
ISBN: 9780811877800
Publisher: Chronicle Books
Published: 2011-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“We’re not taking any candy,” Stewart said as we set out. It was the only time he broke character all night.

“But it’s Halloween. Probably my last time trick-or-treating. I got to get something.”

“You want candy, I’ll buy you some. Tonight is just about promoting the play.”

“Fine,” I groused. “But pull over a minute.” We were approaching the pit stop.

“For what purpose, Sancho?” he asked, falling back into his Don Quixote voice.

“Maybe you can pull this shit off straight, but I can’t. I’ll need some enhancement if we’re going to go around performing for the whole goddam town all night.”

Stewart sighed and shook his head. “All this talk of ‘need,’ Sancho. I’m disappointed in you, old friend.”

“Look, do you want me to do this with you or not?”

Without a word, he slowed down the Volvo and pulled into the field. I started to open the door, then hesitated.

“You joining me?”

“Always the peasant, dear Sancho,” he said. “No, thank you. Your crude form of intoxication has no appeal to me.”

I laughed. “Oh, come on, Stewart. You just smoked up with me last night.”

“Whatever this Stewart fellow you continue to carry on about did or did not do last night, or any other night, is of no interest to me. Now, if you will please hurry up, Sancho, I’d like to get on with our quest.”

“Fine.” I slammed the door behind me.

It was a bit warmer than last night. The clear sky was gone. A breeze was picking up, and the clouds were moving in, low and thick. I fired up the joint, took a few quick puffs, then put it out. For a minute I just stood there, watching the sky glow over the valley from the wind tower lights.

Glancing down at my outfit, I felt a strange sort of giddiness. I could feel one of those moments coming upon me. You know the kind, where you look around and wonder how you got to this spot, and you think about the person you’re with and the things that happened to bring you both here, and none of it seems real.

Before I knew it, I was humming, then singing. My voice sounded strange, like someone else’s.

I’m Sancho! Yes, I’m Sancho! I’ll follow my master till the end. I’ll tell all the world proudly I’m his squire! I’m his—

The horn beeped twice and the engine started. Don was tired of waiting. I got back in the car.

“Ready, Your Grace,” I said, and we continued on our way.

I wasn’t sure how the night was going to go when we started. As we headed up the walkway of the first house, an elderly couple met us on the front porch. They’d seen us coming and had decided to launch a preemptive strike.

“How old are you boys?” the old man asked.

I was too busy staring at his long, rubbery earlobes to speak. Fortunately, I had Stewart.

“My good sir,” he said, “we know no age. I am the illustrious Don Quixote de La Mancha, and this

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