Trouble by Schmidt Gary D

Author:Schmidt, Gary D. [Schmidt, Gary D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult, Historical, Adventure
ISBN: 9780545074599
Amazon: 0545074592
Goodreads: 2064886
Publisher: Scholastic Audio
Published: 2008-04-21T07:00:00+00:00

He had not known how much he looked like her. How he moved like her. How he held himself like her. She had said it was so, but he had not known.

And the dog! The dog! Keats was right about aching Pleasure.

But why would anyone eat a chowder?

13

CHAY, MEANWHILE, ate little by little. His head hung low. His eyes were half-closed, and his hands seemed made of weights, he raised them so slowly to his mouth. He’s going to fall asleep, thought Henry. His face is going to fall right into his blue plate.

But his face didn’t fall. Chay kept eating.

When the waitress came to take away Henry’s bowl and to leave their bills, Henry ordered a basket of fried clams to go. And a milkshake. Vanilla.

“This is a chowder house,” said the waitress.

“Chowder houses do not serve vanilla milkshakes. If you want a vanilla milkshake, there’s an ice cream place down the street, but it’s probably closed by now.”

Henry ordered another bottle of Admiral Ames root beer instead.

When the fried clams and root beer came, he went up to the counter to pay his bill. The two fishermen came up to pay theirs at the same time, and they stood largely on each side of him. He could smell the sea on them, and the stale scent of beer.

The waitress took his money. “Where you boys headed?” she asked.

“Katahdin,” Henry said.

“My brother climbed it once,” she said, making the change. “He always said it was overrated.” She handed the coins to Henry.

“You climbing with your friend?” said one of the fishermen, nodding back to Chay.

“He’s not my friend,” said Henry.

The other fisherman laughed abruptly. More stale beer smell.

“So why hang around with a VC?” said the first fisherman.

Henry had never heard anyone called a VC, and he had no idea what it meant. He figured that it probably didn’t mean “Very Cool.”

“He’s my ride,” said Henry.

It wasn’t the best moment for Chay to come up to the counter. But Trouble comes when it wants to.

Chay took out his wallet. Henry could see that it didn’t have much in it.

“You should’ve tried the chowder,” said the waitress. Chay didn’t say anything.

“Maybe he don’t like American food,” said the first fisherman.

Both fishermen watched Chay carefully. The second took a last drink from his last bottle, and then cracked it down on the countertop. The first tipped his bottle up to his mouth again. He sucked loudly on it.

“C’mon,” said Henry. He picked up his bag of fried clams and his bottle of Admiral Ames, and he nodded to Chay to go on ahead.

The fishermen followed them out of the chowder house. Henry felt them walking behind him when they got onto the street. He felt them turn into the half-dark parking lot with them. And he felt the beer bottle crash past his feet, shards of glass skittering away on the asphalt.

“Hey, gook, where do you think you’re going?”

Chay stopped and turned around. He looked past Henry.

Even in the dark, Henry could see in Chay’s face an anger greater than he had ever felt.

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