Walthrop remained blank, lost in thought. Abruptly then, and with a flicker of what seemed like anger, he snatched a file out of one of his desk drawers and threw it across to Clyde. “Sign the bottom of the last three sheets. You can take him home today.”

Linus fired again, the sound echoing through the quarry, and another bottle shattered. He had the rifle propped on a sandbag. Securing it against his shoulder with his chin, he cleared and reloaded the chamber with his right hand. Polio had made his left arm useless. Frank and Jude sat behind him on the bed of Jude’s truck, drinking beer.

“Yeski Martin,” Jude, who was getting as fat as his father, sighed out. “She was in the bleachers yesterday with her legs wide open, and man-oh-man I could see clear to the Promised Land. She knew it, too.”

“Heard she’s dating a marine from KC,” Frank said. “Bet he don’t know she’s fifteen.”

Another rifle crack, another bottle shattered.

“It’s me she wants,” Jude said. “She was taxiing me in. No panties.” Opening his legs, he made elaborate gestures toward his crotch. Suddenly he farted loudly and began to rock his enormous body back and forth, shouting, “Abort, abort entry, abort. ‘No, Captain, I’m going in. I’m going to land this baby.’” He farted raucously again. “You’ve been hit. Abort, I tell you. ‘Never, I’m going in, Captain.’”

Linus, who had finished another perfect round, sat up, laughing at Jude’s performance.

“How is it”—Frank was leaning away, covering his nose—“that you can fart at will?”

Jude took hold of his own stomach. “Plenty of storage.”

“That’s six,” Linus said.

“You’ve won.” Frank got himself another beer. “You always win. What did I get, five, five, and four? Jude?”

“I nipped one, I’m sure.”

“Zilch,” Linus corrected.

“Yeski,” Jude said, “is the most racked and stacked, but Helga’s the cutest.”

Frank disagreed. “Esta’s the cutest.”

Linus looked dubious. “She’s got a nose on her, that girl.”

“You know what she does with that nose?” Jude wiggled his eyebrows. “Let’s just say she’s very flexible.”

“Shut up.” Frank flicked at his cheek.

“She wants to teach English like Miss Kelly?” Jude said.

Linus got up, brushing himself off. “Hey, do you guys think Miss Kelly’s still a virgin? How old is she?”

Frank shrugged. “Thirty-something.”

“There’s no way”—Jude raised a finger—“any man has journeyed to her dark places.”

The boys laughed. They were reading Heart of Darkness in Miss Kelly’s class.

“Bet she’s a tiger in the sack, though,” Jude went on. “Looks the type.”

Jude gestured for the rifle. “Set up them bottles. Last round. Winner takes all.”

Linus ran off to set up six more bottles, his useless arm flapping at his side. Frank finished his Schlitz and reached for another.

“Whoa, easy on the beer, Tonto. Is that six?”

When Linus got back, Jude, without getting off the truck bed, fired the rifle with one hand, holding his beer with the other and saying “damn” between each shot.