Fubar by Ron Carpol Read Free Book Online Page A

looked like he was going to cry. He sniffed a little and rubbed the corner of each eye with the back of his left hand. Then he sat up stiffly, squished the letter into a ball and stuffed it under his mattress.
    Later, when Ovary was in the bathroom, I pulled the letter out of its hiding place and jammed it in the back pocket of my jeans. In my truck on the way home after the meeting I quickly read the letter. It was from his father who was doing time at a Federal Prison in Illinois. The letter ended by saying, “Be out in six years with an early parole.”
    I immediately drove over to Kinko’s on Lincoln and made seventy-five photocopies of the letter in minutes. Then I stood there and yellow-highlighted each letter at the part about his father getting out of prison in six years.
    The next afternoon, when I was sure nobody saw me at the house, I slipped a copy in everybody’s mail slot and pinned a few copies on the bulletin board and then got the hell out of there fast.
    Just as it was getting dark, about five, I drove back to the house. A red and white paramedic truck, with its red lights flashing and siren wailing, sped out of the driveway and raced down the street.
    As I got out of the truck, Castle rushed up to me, his knees bowed far enough apart to roll a big beach ball through. “Hearwhat happened to Ovary?”
    â€œNo, what?”
    â€œTried to kill himself. OD’d. Might die.”
    My stomach almost leaped out of my throat. “Oh, Jesus!” I wanted him out but not dead. “How? Why?”
    â€œSwallowed a bottle of aspirins. Left a note. Quit school. Quit the pledge class. Said he was disgraced by the letter.”
    â€œWhat letter?”
    â€œIn everybody’s mail slot and on the bulletin board. About his father being in prison.”
    â€œThought he was in a rest home in Arizona with Alzheimer’s.”
    â€œThat’s what he told us. Sad though. Ovary’s note said that a pledge swiped the letter from under his mattress. Then they Xeroxed it for everybody to read.”
    â€œWhy’d he say a pledge did it?”
    â€œActives don’t go in the pledge dorm. And if one did, why’d they reach under his mattress and take the letter? And why’d they distribute it?”
    â€œGood point.”
    â€œYeah. When the paramedics got upstairs, all Ovary’s things were packed in a box. The note was taped on top of it. That’s when he must’ve taken the pills.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œReally chickenshit is what it is. Ovary was a decent guy. Had his problems like everybody else. If we catch the pledge who did it, it’s going to be more than just their ass. We’re going to turn him in for attempted murder.”
    I swallowed hard. “We should.”
    _____
    Later that night Holmes approached me in the back yard while I was smoking a joint. He looked around furtively, like he was trying to make sure he wasn’t overheard and whispered, “Lyman says you did it to Ovary.”
    I flinched. “Why would I do that?”
    â€œSo there’d be one less pledge. Up your chances to beat The Rule of Eleven.”
    â€œThen every pledge has the same reason.”
    â€œNope,” he said smugly. “You got five million more.”
    My heart lurched, like a guy taking a lie detector test and seeing the examiner’s face when the needle jumped a mile. This fucker caught it too.
    â€œWhat’re you talking about?” I asked slowly, trying to keep my voice even.
    Holmes’ lips were beginning to break into a sneer. “Lyman told me and Watson about the will. He swore us to secrecy.”
    â€œI don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumbled feebly, not even convincing myself.
    â€œMe and Watson,” he continued, “we kept asking Lyman what the hell were the two of you were doing here. Finally he told us. Him we believe, especially with all those pills he takes