Sons of the 613 by Michael Rubens Read Free Book Online

shit.”
    â€œHe did.”
    â€œNo. That’s not even remotely possible.”
    Animated debate between Paul and Danny regarding whether that could be even remotely possible. That’s what Danny keeps repeating: “That’s not even
remotely
possible. Not even
remotely.
” This morphs into a discussion of whether at some point during the Quest I’ll have to take a midnight crap in the creek, and whether it would be worse to be bitten in the balls in the middle of the night by a snapping turtle or by some sort of snake.
    â€œOh, dude, that would
suck!
Could you imagine, you’re, like, squatting in the creek, and—”
    I close my eyes, lay my head on the table, and tune out.
    Yesterday was the worst Sunday I’ve ever had. Today looks to be making a strong effort to be the worst Monday.
    Josh woke me early again and dragged me out of the tent for some predawn sadism. At least this time I got to skip the war paint and headband. Another call from my mom, again asking if I’d called Eric Weinberg.
    â€œYes, I did,” I said.
    â€œYou didn’t, did you,” she said. “Call him. How’s the haphtarah going? Josh helping you out?”
    â€œMom, you wouldn’t believe everything Josh is doing.”
    And then it was time to go to the bus stop, which brings us to the Assholes Who Afflict My Life and Josh becoming aware of their existence, which is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.
    When it was time to leave, Josh announced that he was going to take the unusual step of walking me and Lisa to the bus stop.
    Panic.
    â€œJosh, you don’t have to. I think I can manage to put Lisa on her bus and get on mine. I do it every day.”
    â€œI want to.”
    â€œThere’s no reason.”
    â€œIs there some reason you
don’t
want me to do it?”
    â€œNo, fine, whatever.”
    Do not be waiting for me. Do not be waiting for me,
I prayed as I trudged toward the bus stop, hunched over from the weight of my backpack, weaving a bit, my legs feeling like overcooked spaghetti. Josh and Lisa were walking ahead of me, holding hands and singing songs.
    Do not be waiting for me.
    Which of course they were, because they do it every day. We were a full block away and I could see them, Kevin Nordquist and Tim Phillips, dawdling by the open door of the bus, lying in wait for me while pretending that they weren’t.
    I do not like being bullied, but I can live with it. What I really didn’t want was Josh to
see
me being bullied, because I knew exactly how it would play out—Josh would witness whatever was about to happen, and the stone gears would start to churn inside his thick, scarred skull, and he’d get
ideas
: Isaac being bullied = Isaac needing to stand up for himself = a perfect challenge for the Quest: to confront the bullies.
    I do not want to confront the bullies.
    But then, about a hundred yards away from the bus, Josh stopped.
    â€œYou’re on your own from here. I don’t want anyone thinking you’re a pussy,” he said to me, and kissed Lisa on the cheek. I breathed half a sigh of relief, which turned into an explosive
huuuuuuh
when Josh gave me a whack on the back to send me on my way.
    â€œI’ll see you when you get home. Be ready to study.”
    Please go home now,
I thought, beaming the request out of the back of my head at Josh as I hobbled toward the bus.
Please turn and go. Don’t stay and watch.
    â€œHi,
Isaac,
” said Kevin as I got close enough, saying it like my name is Ass Hair. I stared at the ground and tried to move past them into the door, but Tim shoved me into the door frame and I banged my knee on the first step, which set off a chain reaction of me stumbling forward and my heavy backpack flopping over my head and jerking me further off balance, and then I tried to recover and instead ended up in an awkward, crunched, half-squatting position at the base of the bus entrance.