One Fat Summer by Robert Lipsyte Read Free Book Online

any skin left. The gloves helped a little. At least I couldn’t see what my hands looked like. Hamburger, probably. Handsburger?
    First, I went over all the patches I missed yesterday, then I started cutting in rows again, back and forth, side to side. I really concentrated. I watched for stones, and when I saw one I stopped, picked it up, and piled it on the edge of the driveway. If I found a stone in the middle of the row, I carried it to the end in my pocket. Even the little stones were a tight fit, and pinched my legs and backside. I watched for holes, too. I was very careful.
    The longer I cut, the bigger the lawn seemed to get. A friend of my father’s once showed us his color movies of a mule trip down into the Grand Canyon. He said that the farther down he went, the bigger the canyon seemed to get. From the top, it looked like just a huge hole, but as he descended, the walls of the canyon seemed to flatten back and the hole became another world. It was something like that with the lawn. After acouple of hours, I could see that I had come a long way, but the distance between me and the county road didn’t seem to shrink that much. At the twelve-o’clock fire siren, I shut off the motor and went up to the porch to eat lunch.
    â€œYou’re the slowest lawn boy I’ve ever had,” said Dr. Kahn. “At this rate it’ll take you most of the week just to cut the grass.”
    I shrugged because I felt bad and didn’t know what to say.
    â€œObviously, you don’t care. Do you want this job?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThen prove it to me.”
    I didn’t finish my lunch, but I wasn’t too hungry. The first bologna sandwich stuck in my mouth, and I forced it down with juice I sucked out of my orange. I ate the candy bar for quick energy, and hit the lawn.
    I tried to go faster, but then I went over a stone. Clang. The blade batted it against a tree. Thud. I got panicky. The rest of the afternoon was a blur. The heat was pounding me into the ground, and my clothes stuck to me. My underwear was strangling me. Sweat pouring down myforehead stung my eyes and blinded me. My hands and feet were burning. My lungs were bursting. I tried to think of Captain Marks, but now the whole daydream seemed dumb. I’m the slowest officer in the U.S. Cavalry. By the time I get to the fort, the stagecoach will be a burned-out wreck, the Colonel’s daughter kidnapped and my whole troop will be spread-eagled on the sand waiting for the red ants.
    I thought three o’clock would never come. I cut two more rows just in case my watch was running on its usual low Basal time, and then I pulled the mower up to the shed. Dr. Kahn was waiting for me.
    â€œWhat am I going to do about you?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œAre you sure you want this job?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œHow can I pay you seventy-five cents an hour when you’re not doing seventy-five cents an hour’s worth of work?”
    I shook my head.
    â€œYou seem like a decent boy,” said Dr. Kahn. “I want to give you every opportunity to prove yourself. But obviously I can’t pay you topdollar. I might allow you to keep working, on a strict trial, of course, for fifty cents an hour. Well?”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œTomorrow. Nine A.M. Sharp.”
    For the second day in a row, I turned away before he could see me cry.

8
    Our house wasn’t directly on Rumson Lake, but from the old swing in the backyard I could see the island gathering shadows in the late afternoon sunlight, a darkening clump of trees in the middle of a ring of sparkling water.
    When I swung up high enough I caught glimpses of swimmers splashing out from shore. They were so cool and I was so hot. I was jealous of people who didn’t have to think about how their bodies looked without clothes. When I was younger I was a good swimmer. My father and Michelle taught me. But after I started feeling embarrassed about