The Wild Things by Dave Eggers Read Free Book Online Page A

about soaking Claire's room with the water.
    "What'd you use?" Mr. Beckmann asked. "A bucket?"
    Max nodded.
    "Yeah, I would have used a bucket, too."
    This is why Max loved Mr. Beckmann: he was an equal. He seemed to have navigated his way through seven or so decades of adulthood without forgetting one moment of his childhood -- what he loved and hated, feared and coveted.
    Max and Mr. Beckmann stood for a long moment, breathing their loud grey breaths into the still night.
    Max had visited Mr. Beckmann's house a few times, and had walked carefully through, fascinated by his collection of strange old toys and posters. Mr. Beckmann had a thing for King Kong, and had collected various souvenirs and models from the movie's first incarnation. There were also delicate tin toys, Mickey Mouse and Little Nemo, in glass displays. There were huge books full of paintings and all throughout the house, most of the time, was music, something classical, stringy, and bright.
    The last time Max had been there, Mr. Beckmann had answered the phone and Max had overheard a colorful argument between the old man and one of the street's new neighbors. This new neighbor apparently was objecting to the run-down barn in Mr. Beckmann's backyard. It was a barn Max often played in, and where he had stored his wristrocket and M-80s. The man on the phone saw it as an eyesore and was apparently offering to remove it for Mr. Beckmann. Mr. Beckmann did not like the idea so much. "If I hear from you again," he yelled at the phone, "I'll hire a crane, pick that barn up, come over to your house, and drop that barn on your head."
    Max laughed, knowing that would be the end of that particular neighbor's complaints. Then he and Mr. Beckmann had eaten ice cream sandwiches.
    "So you're in trouble. So what?" Mr. Beckmann said, his breath visible, cloaking him. "Boys are supposed to get in trouble. Look at you. You're built for trouble."
    Max smiled. "Yeah, but Gary said--"
    "What?" Mr. Beckmann interrupted. "Who the hell's Gary?"
    Max explained who Gary was, or who he thought Gary was. Mr. Beckmann shook his head dismissively.
    "Well I don't like him already. What kind of name is Gary, anyway? Sounds like a carny. Is he a carny?"
    Max laughed.
    "Gary Schmary," Mr. Beckmann said. "You want me to sic Achilles on him? He'd swallow Gary Schmary in one bite."
    Max thought this was a pretty good idea, but shook his head. "No, that's okay."
    They stood in the night. Far off, a dog or wolf howled. Mr. Beckmann was looking up at the broad silver stripe across the dome of the sky.
    Mr. Beckmann started down toward his house. "Well, I'll be seeing you, Maximilian."
    "See you, Mr. Beckmann," Max said.
    Mr. Beckmann stopped, remembering something. "Remember, Achilles is always ready to eat some Gary."
    Max laughed and rode home to eat dinner.

CHAPTER X
    Max knew that a bunk bed was the perfect structure to use when building an indoor fort. First of all, bunk beds have a roof. And a roof was essential if you're going to have an observation tower. And you need an observation tower if you're going to spot invading armies before they breach your walls and overtake your kingdom. Anyone without bunks would have a much harder time maintaining a security perimeter, and if you can't do that, you don't stand a chance against anyone.
    Max had just done a quick survey of the area surrounding his bunk-kingdom and now was down below on the lower bunk, where he could be unseen and unknown. For a while he thought about the sun and whether it would die. He thought about whether he would die someday, too. It was a very strange time in Max's life. His sister had tried, by proxy, to kill him, and his mother didn't seem to care about that or the end of the universe. On this evening, the person in the house he seemed to like the most was Gary, and even thinking that sent a shudder through him. He wondered if Mr. Beckmann would allow him to live at his house, and if not, in the barn that he'd threatened