Paperboy by Vince Vawter Read Free Book Online

front of her. I wanted her to try to close the flaps of her housecoat. I looked at her until my neck started tightening up on me from being in one spot for too long and then I picked up my newspaper bags and shook out the glass slivers over the railing of the porch.
    Mrs. Worthington squirmed a little and then moaned but she didn’t wake up.
    The first part of the way home I walked with my bags under my arm and then I took off running. I ran from lamppost to lamppost without stopping like I was running the bases. I touched each concrete post with my hand. I had always liked the big posts with the big glass globes sitting on top like a tall hat but when I wasn’t feeling right inside the lampposts were like first basemen trying to tag me out.
    At the last lamppost before I got to my house I made sure I stopped to catch my breath.

    After I brushed my teeth I went to my parents’ bedroom to tell them good night but my mother was at her dresser talking on the telephone to one of her friends about New Orleans. She blew me a good-night kiss. I went to find my father but he was in his office downstairs talking on the phone that he only used when he wanted to talk to people about what they should do with their money. No one in the house was supposed to answer my father’s office phone except him and that was okay with me. My mother always said that I would as soon pick up a snake as a telephone and she was right about that. The only newspaper comic I didn’t like was
Dick Tracy
because he talked on that phone on his wrist all the time.
    Mam came into my room to pick up clothes and towels and tuck me in. She asked me why I had been so quiet after supper and I told her I was just thinking about the paper route and how I could change it up so I could finish it quicker each day. She didn’t much like my answer. I can’t lie very well when there are a lot of words to say or things to explain.
    If I could have told her the truth I would have said that my mind was bouncing back and forth between Mrs. Worthington and Greaser Charles and Ara T and Mr. Spiro the way the pinball in the machine at Wiles Drug Store bounces off all the different colored lights. The pinball wouldn’t stop.

Chapter Five
    On Friday morning during the second week of my route I pitched the first inning in a practice game and then the coach told me he was taking me out because he wanted our team to get some fielding practice and that wouldn’t happen if I was on the mound for the whole game.
    When the coach said things like that it made me feel like I was a somebody instead of just a kid who couldn’t talk right.
    A guy I had nicknamed Racer had taken Rat’s place as my catcher. He had to stick one of his mother’s washrags inside his mitt so my hard throws wouldn’t hurt his hand. Racer came over to me in the dugout.
    You don’t need to be throwing so hard in a practice game.
    s-s-s-s-Only way I s-s-s-s-know how.
    And why do you call me Racer?
    I had to come up with something quick.
    s-s-s-s-’Cause you run s-s-s-s-bases so fast.
    Racer looked at me funny because he was one of the slowest guys on the team but at least it gave him something to think about besides talking to me.
    I missed Rat every time I had to talk to somebody who didn’t know me but it didn’t do any good to think about Rat because I would just miss him more.
    I had trouble cutting the cord again on the newspaper bundles that afternoon. It had been almost a week and Ara T still hadn’t given my knife back. I had seen him from far away on the streets a few times and I knew he had seen me. I didn’t know if he was avoiding me or I was avoiding him.

    On that second Friday night of collections the envelope was clothespinned on the screen door at 1219 Vinton like it was supposed to be.
    Through the screen I could tell that TV Boy was in his usual place in front of the television without the sound on. I took the envelope and counted the change. I marked the collection book and pinned