He didn’t make a comment so Jon was finally forced to clear his throat and say, “So what do you think?”

“As a general rule, beginning, middle, and end are nice, but at least you kept at it. Go back and try something else.”

“Like what? I mean, I’m really having trouble coming up with stuff.”

“Fancy that.”

Jon went back to work. He wrote at night, usually until three, when he fell into bed. In the morning he slept late. At lunchtime he showered and dressed and headed over to Walker’s house at the top of Bergstrom Hill, half a mile from his house. If he kept to the winding streets, the travel time was five minutes by scooter, but Jon found another route, skirting the Ravine along its easternmost edge, putt-putting along the bridle paths that formed a warren of meandering trails. It required his crossing one two-lane road, but there was scarcely ever any traffic. Late afternoons he’d spend forty minutes lifting free weights in Mona’s home gym and then do a long run of six or seven miles. After that he’d shower, put on his slippers and sweats, and sit down at his desk. For most meals he ate cold cereal or Top Ramen, which was all he could afford after the money he’d spent on furnishings.

Meanwhile, Walker was spending his summer vacation selling dope. His parents were clueless and didn’t seem to grasp the import of his frequent absences from the house or the unannounced visits from an assortment of friends whose names they were never told. In the fall Walker would start his freshman year at UCST. He had no interest in living at home, but he didn’t have the money to pay for off-campus digs. Even if he went in with five other guys, he’d be coming up short, dope money notwithstanding. Jon was in the same boat. Once Mona and the family returned, she’d make his continued residency dependent on his paying rent. Lionel would explain this was for his own good, a means of building character, not just a variation on Mona’s abuse. Jon could see he’d have to find a job and juggle work with classes at City College. Mr. Snow had a point about avoiding the draft.

Chapter 19 - Wednesday afternoon, April 13, 1988

19

Wednesday afternoon, April 13, 1988