Can't Get There from Here Read Online Free PDF Page B

we bet on will be the one you let drop,” someone said.
    “Not if you don’t bet me,” I told them. “You bet each other. I just get one of the bets. The winner gets the other two.”
    “So you need four people to bet,” one of them realized. “One for each color.”
    “I’ll bet a dollar on red,” said a man smoking a cigar.
    “I’ll bet on yellow,” said a woman wearing a bright red ski jacket.
    “A dollar’s not much,” I said. “How about making it two?”
    “How do we know it’s not rigged?” asked the man with the cigar. “How do we know you’re not in cahootswith one of the bettors and you’ll split the winnings, too?”
    “Oh, sure, you all hang out with street urchins like me,” I said. Maggot told me to use the word urchin. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but it made people laugh.
    “I know how we can tell if it’s rigged,” said the man with the cigar. “Only people who bought a movie ticket can bet. No one’s gonna spend ten bucks on a ticket so they can make four bucks on a bet, right?”
    “Good point,” said the woman in the red ski jacket. She and the man with the cigar held up their tickets. Two more people quickly joined the betting. I started doing harder tricks behind my back and under my leg. Finally, the yellow one broke. The woman in the red ski jacket won. Two of the bettors paid her. The man with the cigar paid me.
    “Let’s do it again,” he said. “This time for five bucks.”
    Except for him, the other bettors were new. I started juggling again with another yellow egg. I always brought two of each color.
    This time the red one broke. The man with the cigar won. Two of the bettors gave him five dollars, but the man who was supposed to give five to me refused.
    “I think this is a scam,” he said to the man with the cigar. “It’s no coincidence that you suggested we up the bet to five bucks and that’s when you won.”
    “You really think I’m in cahoots with that kid?” The man with the cigar pointed at me.
    “I don’t know, but I’m not paying,” the other man said. The line began to move. People started going into the theater. The man who was supposed to pay me followed the line.
    “Would you give me one of the bets you won?” I asked the man with the cigar.
    “Sorry, kid,” he answered. “You said I’d get two of the bets. That’s what I got. What’s fair is fair.” He went into the theater.
    I still had enough eggs for one more bet so I waited for another line to form. Once again people took the bets. I dropped the last red one and made four dollars for the night.
    I snuck onto the subway back to St. Marks Place wondering if I had enough money for the stomach medicine. People passed in heavy coats and hats. Some even wore scarves. Up ahead a bunch of kids sat on a stoop under a light, smoking and talking. They were mostly wearing black clothes and had tattoos and piercings. I’d seen some of them around before and knew they were mean.
    I decided to cross the street, but then someone called out, “Hey, Maybe.” It was Rainbow. She was one of the kids sitting on the steps. “Come over here, okay?”
    The other kids gave me mean smiles but I went over. A boy with a pointy orange Mohawk muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t hear. The other kids laughed.
    “Where you coming from?” Rainbow asked when I got close. She was chewing gum.
    “The movies.”
    “Oh, yeah, what’d you see?” asked the boy with the orange Mohawk.
    “Nothing. I was juggling.”
    “Maybe does this thing with colored eggs.” Rainbow told the group how I got people to bet and shared in some of the winnings. “So how much did you make?”
    “Only four dollars.”
    “Whatcha gonna do with it?” Rainbow asked me.
    “Buy some medicine for my stomach,” I said.
    “Know what my mom used to do when I had a stomachache?” Rainbow said. “Gave me ginger ale. It always made me feel better. Your mom ever give you ginger ale for your stomach?”
    I