Grayfox by Michael Phillips Read Free Book Online Page B

me and who caused me the most trouble. They laughed and mocked and swore at me and called me names.
    I tried to pick up my slate and get up, but they shoved at me and pushed me back to the ground several times.
    Finally I got back to my feet and tried to walk away.
    â€œNot so fast,” sneered the biggest of the group—he was thirteen. “I’m not finished with you yet.”
    I was afraid to say anything but afraid to keep going too.
    â€œI want to know what it’s like having a no-good jailbird for a pa. So before I let you go, you answer me what it’s like being the son of an outlaw?”
    â€œMy pa’s not an outlaw,” I spat back, forgetting my fear for a second.
    â€œYou’re a liar,” the boy shot back. “Everybody knows what he did—and that he went to jail for it.”
    â€œHe never done no such thing!” I shouted. Then like an idiot I dropped what was in my hand again and rushed at him.
    It was only a second or two before he’d slugged me twice in the stomach and once in the face and had me pinned to the ground.
    â€œYour pa busted out of jail!” he yelled in my ear. “You prob’ly don’t even know that, but he’s no good, I tell you.”
    â€œYou let me go!” I cried. “Let me go, or I’ll . . . I’ll—”
    â€œYou’ll what? Call your pa on me! Ha! When they catch your pa, you know what they’re going to do? They’ll hang him, and you’ll have to watch!” He laughed with an ugly sound, then ground myface into the dirt. The others were standing around watching and laughing and taunting me too.
    I tried to keep my eyes from shutting, but it hurt so bad where he’d hit me and now kept pushing and twisting at me. I tried to stifle my tears to show him I was tough, though I winced every time he’d jab at me or kick me with his knee.
    Never in all my life had I felt so helpless, so alone. And nobody was there to help me. The bully had me totally at his mercy. I never felt so helpless before or since.
    When the bully realized he couldn’t have any more fun with me, he kicked me several times in the ribs, then got up and left with the others, laughing till they were out of earshot.
    I laid there for another half an hour, crying both from the hurt and the humiliation. Finally I got up and staggered home as best I could. I met Tad, who was still expecting to go fishing. I said some things that weren’t too friendly to him, then went up and hid in the hayloft. The last thing I remember about that day is crying again till I fell asleep.
    I didn’t have no one to comfort me. I didn’t have nobody to tell me what to do next time. I couldn’t tell Ma or Corrie. That’s when I needed Pa more than ever—but I didn’t have a father to tell what happened.
    I suppose if I’d have told Pa all about it when I finally did see him again in California, he’d have felt just as bad, if not worse, than me about the incident. If we’d have talked about it, maybe the memory wouldn’t have stung in the same way it still did.
    But it was too late then. After we came west, I didn’t need a father the same way as back when I was younger. I was becoming more like everybody does the older they grow. The older people get, I suppose, the more independent they become. Those early years were gone.
    I was just about back to the station by then.
    I tried to shake all the memories clear from my brain. That was a long time ago, I told myself. I had to be a man now, whatever had happened when I was a kid.
    So a bully beat me up once. So Pa left. I couldn’t worry about it now.
    Besides, what would Hammerhead think of me if he knew what I was thinking about?
    Or Billy Barnes?

Chapter 11 The Accident
    The Paiute war continued on and off through the summer and fall. And our territory, out in the middle of nowhere away from where the army was around, was about