This is Just Exactly Like You by Drew Perry Read Free Book Online Page A

the office and Butner toward the chains and Randy up into his pickup, gunning the motor. Butner checks everything, gives him the thumbs-up. Jack backs up a few steps and the kid’s already going, easing the truck back, foot by foot, until he gets some tension in the chains. This is the kind of thing Hen would want to see up close, Jack’s pretty sure. He should bring him over here. “Hang on,” he says, and Butner holds his arm up in the air. Randy stops, holds where he is, waiting. Jack goes to get Hen.
    “Good idea,” Butner yells to him.
    “What?”
    “Good idea,” Butner says, coming toward the dump truck.
    Jack has no idea what he means. “Hendrick?”
    “No, man, drive the truck over here. We’ll tie off to it on the other end. Keep the skid from flipping over the other way.”
    “Oh,” says Jack. “Good.”
    “Yeah. That’ll work, I think.” Butner sticks his hand in through the window to Hendrick, palm out, wanting a high five. “How’s the brains behind the operation?” he asks him. Hen doesn’t move. “No?” Still nothing. Butner rubs him on the head. “That’s OK,” he says.
    “Hello,” Hendrick says.
    “Hello,” Butner says.
    “Hello and welcome to another edition of This Week in Baseball ,” Hendrick says.
    “Awesome,” says Butner. Then, to Jack, he says, “Come on, man, let’s get this show on the road. You got customers waiting.”
    Jack drives the dump truck over near where the skid’s lying on the ground, puts it in gear and shuts it off. Butner ties one more length of chain from the skid to the dump truck, pulls on it to make sure it’s right, gives his sign, and Jack’s only barely able to get Hen out of the cab before Randy starts back again. He hangs onto Hendrick, and the skid drags along on its side a little bit before the chains start to pull it up, but pretty quickly it’s leaning up into the air, and Butner’s right next to it, checking everything, giving more hand signals, telling Randy to stop, stop or try a little more . The kid gasses the truck back in little leaps. Finally Butner tells him go, go , and the Nissan jerks back and the loader lifts up off the ground the rest of the way all at once, rocks upright, holds at the top of its arc for a second or two, and then starts heading over the other way. Hendrick reaches out into the air like he might be able to catch it. The chain running to the dump truck does it fine, though, like Butner said it would, goes taut as a wire, and then it snaps the bumper right off the front of the truck, a huge shearing bang. But it does stop the skid. It stays up on its wheels. The kid shuts off the Nissan, and the crowd over by the office claps. Hendrick covers his ears, squirms free of Jack, marches in place.
    “Well, fuck me twice,” says Butner, looking at the bumper. “Tied the chain wrong. I did worry about that.”
    “You did?” Jack asks.
    “Yeah. I let it pop too hard. Should have stopped it right at the top. I thought we’d be OK.” He nudges the bent chrome bumper with his toe. “Shit.”
    “Why didn’t you say something? What else broke? Do you think anything else broke?”
    “Don’t worry about it,” Butner says, squatting down to inspect the damage. He sticks his head in underneath. “Minor. Cosmetic. This thing’s straight as an arrow otherwise. I’ll fix it this afternoon.” He picks up the bumper, sets it on the hood of the truck. “At least we’re back up and running.”
    “I guess so,” says Jack. He’s not so sure.
    “Seriously,” Butner says. “Good as new. This afternoon.” He points at something under one of the headlights. “Just need to weld a couple new bolts on there.” Randy gets down out of his pickup and Butner tries to give him some money, peeling tens off a reel of cash he pulls out of his pocket, but the kid shakes his head, laughs, starts unhooking the chains. Butner shrugs, gets in the dump truck, backs it out of the way. He tries the loader next, which,