Darwin's Blade by Dan Simmons Read Free Book Online Page B

understand him, but I knew he was saying that he had to get home ’cause Rose hates to go to sleep without him. So he took his winnings and him and me left the game and came outside.”
    â€œJust the two of you?”
    â€œWell, yeah. Wally and Herb and Don were still playing…they go way past midnight most Friday nights…and some of the other boys, the older ones, y’know, they’d gone home early. So it was just Bud and me going home at eleven.”
    â€œBut there was still the paving machine in the way,” said Dar.
    â€œOf course there was,” said Henry, sounding impatient now at Dar’s slowness. “Think one of them construction knuckleheads had come by at ten P.M. and moved it for us? So Bud drove his Pard to the curb where we’d lifted him up, but it seemed…you know…too steep.”
    â€œSo then what did you do?” Dar could picture what happened next.
    Henry rubbed his cheek and mouth. “Well, I said, ‘Let’s go down to the corner there…it’s only about thirty feet…’ because I thought the curb’s not so high there. And Bud, he agrees. So he scoots his Pard down past the useless ramp to the corner…come on, I’ll show you.”
    Dar accompanied Henry to the corner beyond the handicapped access ramp. Dar noted that one of the low-pressure sodium vapor lamps was right next to the crosswalk there. There was no curb cut. Dar stood on the sidewalk while Henry stepped out into the street, his voice becoming more animated, his gnarled hands moving and gesturing as he spoke.
    â€œWell, we get here and the curb doesn’t look that much lower. I mean, it isn’t. But it was dark, and we figured it was a little lower here, maybe. So I suggested to Bud that we take the front wheel of the Pard and drive it off the curb here ’cause it doesn’t look quite as tall as the other parts of the curb along here. Least in the dark.”
    Henry paused. Dar said softly, “So did Bud drive the front wheel off the curb?”
    Henry refocused his eyes, looking down at the curb now as if he had never seen it before. “Oh, yeah. No problem at all. I held on to the right handlebar of the cart and Bud drove the front wheel off the curb. Everything was hunky-dory. The cart wheel went right off and I kind of held onto it a little bit so it wouldn’t be a real hard bump. So then we had the front wheel of Bud’s little Pard off the curb and Bud looks up at me, and I remember, I said, ‘It’s all right, Bud. I’ve got the right handlebar. I’ll hold onto the handlebar.’ ”
    Henry pantomimed holding on to the handlebar with both hands. “Bud, he hits the switch with his right hand to activate the motor, but he doesn’t give it any throttle, and I say again, ‘It’s OK, Bud, we’ll get that left rear wheel off the curb and get it down on the street and I’ll hold onto you here—both hands on the handlebar—and then you can just drive forward and the right rear tire, it’ll drive right off the curb, and then we’ll be on the street and then it’s a straight shot home.’ ”
    Dar stood and waited, seeing Henry’s eyes cloud again as he relived the moment.
    â€œAnd then the cart moved forward and I was holding on to the right end of the handlebar…Used to be real strong, Mr. Minor, worked twenty-six years loading boxes in the Chicago Merchandise Mart till we moved out here but this damned leukemia the last couple of years…Anyway, the left wheel dropped off the curb and the damned cart started to tip to its left. Bud looks at me and he can’t move his left arm or leg, and I say, ‘It’s OK, Bud, I got it with both hands,’ but the cart just kept tipping. It was heavy. Real heavy. I thought of grabbing Bud, but he was…you know…strapped into the cart the way he’s supposed to be. I did everything to hang