Suder by Percival Everett Read Free Book Online Page A

Rinse. Your problem—you need to brush a little better in the back—your problem is that you don’t relax enough. You’ve got to learn to take it easy. Rinse.”
    The receptionist comes in and tells Martin there’s a patient outside in the waiting room. Martin raises the chair and smiles.
    â€œI’m really glad you came by,” he says.
    â€œMe, too.”
    I smile and walk out of his office and wait on the elevator. When the doors open I’m looking at those enormous Germans. So, I take the stairs.
    As I’m walking down I start to think that maybe I’m asking too much for anyone to listen to my problems. I mean, maybe people can’t listen and understand if they’re busy expecting things of me. This matter of expectations is really getting to me and I begin to have an identity crisis of sorts. I don’t know if I’m Craig Suder the ballplayer, or Craig Suder the husband, or Craig Suder the fellow talking to the fat Germans in the elevator.
    Downstairs in the lobby I run into the Germans again. “Are you on TV?” asks the man.
    I look at him and I says, “I am Craig Suder and if you don’t like the way I play ball, you can … you can … suck my bat:”
    The fat man opens his eyes wide and I walk out into the street. I head down the street toward the park, where I sit and watch the pigeons. I sit there watching them walk around and this kid starts chasing them and they fly away.
    I looked out the window in the living room at the front yard. Ma was resting on her knuckles at the edge of the driveway. Martin came and stood beside me. Ma pushed her butt into the air, leaned forward, and took off in a sprint across the yard. Her coat became full with the wind as she dashed. Daddy came and stood behind us.
    â€œWhat do you think?” Daddy asked.
    Martin and I turned to face Daddy.
    â€œI want to talk to you boys about something.” He paused. “Do you think that your mother would be better off in a hospital?”
    Martin looked back out the window.
    â€œShe’s not sick,” I said.
    â€œNot that kind of hospital,” Martin said.
    â€œYou mean the crazy house?” I opened my eyes wide.
    Daddy nodded.
    â€œNo,” I said. “No.” I got real excited and my eyes watered up.
    â€œOkay,” Daddy said, calming me down.
    Then Ma came running in. She was really sweaty and her coat was soaked. She was panting. “Around the city,” she said. “I’m going to run around Fayetteville. It’s twenty-three miles.” She pulled her hair out of her face. “And I’m going to do it.”
    The night of my visit to my brother I’m home sitting alone and Thelma comes in. She’s singing.
    â€œWhere have you been?” I ask.
    â€œJust out.”
    â€œWhere’s Peter?”
    â€œHe’s here.”
    â€œNo, he’s not.”
    â€œPeter!” she calls.
    Peter appears in the hallway.
    â€œWhy didn’t you come when I called you?” I ask.
    â€œI didn’t hear you,” he answers.
    â€œTime for bed, sweetheart,” Thelma says. “It’s eight o’clock. Camp tomorrow.” She points and he walks back to his room.
    â€œWhat’s got you so chipper?” I ask.
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œI want you to hear something,” I says to her and I walk over to the stereo. “You have to hear this song.” I put the needle on the record and I turn to find her gone. I sit down and I listen to the song and I’m waiting to hear Thelma start up on her exerciser, but the noise never comes. I get up and walk into the bedroom and I see Thelma getting ready for bed and she’s got a big smile on her face.

Chapter 7
    Daddy was standing in the garage with his hands on his hips, looking around, sniffing the air. I was just outside, peering at him from the corner of the house. Martin was coming up the driveway on his