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Issues
» 2005
Issue About
GR
Georgetown
Review
G&R Publishing |
Spring
2006 Samples from Quarry Chad Simpson
So Coach Shackley bumps into me on the first day of
school—thinking, no doubt, of how Chiara Simmons almost drowned the day she
took Tobey and me to Koon’s Quarry, the whole town knew by then—and asks
what I plan on doing with my life. He says it like he’s asking me how my
grandma’s doing, or whether or not my dad sent me a birthday card, like he
knows something about me, like it’s an easy answer.
So I said what any kid of fifteen—and probably any decent human being on the face of the earth—would say to such a ridiculous question: Nothing. He says, “Well,” so the end of it’s all drawn out like a song. He says, “Looks like I finally found a way to shut you up, Thorp.” And he had. Arms still crossed, Shackley looks down at me for an amount of time feels like all of freshman year. And then he starts laughing, I mean really laughing, like he’s somehow gotten this picture up in his fat skull exactly what I will be doing with my life, and the picture he’s looking at is giving him a whole lot of pleasure. I start to get itchy, wishing my buddy Tobey was around. I know what Tobey’d do, Coach Shackley asking him one of life’s big questions and then laughing when Tobey doesn’t say anything. He’d make a joke out of it, a real show. He’d ask some question about the job requirements for president. Or he’d say, “You know, Coach, I’m thinking about going to college and then getting a nice, cushy job teaching Business 1-2-3 to a bunch of punks just like me. I may even pick up a coaching certificate—boys’ basketball.” He’d find a way to turn the tables, all I’m saying. But I just stand dumb until Shackley pats me on the arm and says, “It’s all right, Little Wicked. Get on to class now. I’m sure some teacher’s just about to cry you haven’t shown up yet,” and he’s gone before I say word one. About that “Little Wicked”: My last name’s Thorp, but my first name’s William. I’m usually just Thorp, but for a while Tobey started calling me Wicked instead of William and the name caught on. Tobey meant something more like wicked=cool, but everybody else it was like they’d found a tag to stick on me they seemed to think looked just right. Fuck Shackley. Fuck him where he eats spaghetti. I mean, he’s got about nothing to do with any of it.
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