Dave at Night Read Online Free PDF

one who said he had to go. “Louis, you’re monitor.”
    They left the room. Facing away from Mr. Gluck, they were both grinning.
    I started to draw, but the jumpy kid turned to me and whispered, “I’m Mike, buddy.” He held out his hand to shake. The hand was speckled with ink, and some of it was still wet.
    So what? I shook. “I’m Dave.”
    â€œWelcome to the HHB.”
    I guess I looked puzzled.
    â€œHHB. Hebrew Home for Boys. HHB. Hell Hole for Brats.”

Chapter 6
    M IKE WENT BACK to drawing violins. I began to draw too, but the boy who had been coughing stuck out his hand for me to shake.
    â€œI’m Alfie, buddy,” he whispered. His cheeks were flushed, like he had a fever. The cough and the fever—consumption.
    I shook. “Hi.”
    The boy behind me tapped me on the shoulder. “I’m Eli, buddy,” he said. “It’s Trenton.” He held his hand out too.
    I shook it. “What’s Trenton?”
    He grinned. “The capital of New Jersey. But Mr. Cluck won’t ever teach it.”
    Mr. Cluck. That was a good one.
    The boy on Eli’s right wanted to shake too. His name was Harvey, buddy. The boy on Eli’s left was Joey, buddy. In front of me were Ira, buddy, Danny, buddy, and Reuben, buddy. Maybe I should stay at the orphanage, I thought. Kids sure were friendly here, and they sure liked to call people buddy.
    Mr. Cluck was still droning on about how hard he worked trying to teach us. I began to count the boys in the room. I got up to thirty-two with one row to go when a bell rang. Mr. Cluck let go of the twin’s ear and dismissed us. The two boys who’d gone to the toilet had never come back.
    I left with Mike, Harvey, Eli, and Alfie. I hoped it was lunchtime. I was starving.
    â€œDid you meet Mr. Doom yet?” Mike asked, scratching his neck with one hand and slapping his thigh with the other.
    â€œWho?”
    â€œThe superintendent. Mr. Bloom—Mr. Doom.”
    â€œNot my doom. I can take care of myself.” He could be Doom or he could be Death, it didn’t matter.
    Mike laughed. He had a kind of choking laugh, like the laugh was stuck in his throat. “Buddy, you better hope so.”
    Alfie started coughing again. Harvey pounded him on the back.
    Eli said, “You’ll give him a backache on top of a cough.”
    Couldn’t they tell Alfie had consumption? This time next year he’d probably be dead, like my friend Morty, who died during the summer after third grade.
    Alfie waved his hands in front of his face. He was smaller and skinnier than me. His ears were enormous and stuck out from his head like cup handles. They were flushed too, like his face.
    â€œYou’re supposed to pound a buddy when he coughs, buddy.” Harvey had a hoarse voice. He was my height, but blocky-looking, like someone had carved him out with a wide chisel and hadn’t bothered to finish him off with sandpaper.
    Eli was tall and skinny. He had wires on his teeth. I’d never seen anything like it. Were they supposed to keep his teeth from falling out?
    Mike was hard to see because he was always moving. He had straight brown hair that flew around his head and a long narrow nose.
    We turned into the stairwell at the end of the corridor and started downstairs to the basement.
    Harvey said, “So, Dave, buddy, are you a half or a whole?”
    â€œDo I look like half of anything?”
    â€œHe means, is one of your parents dead or both?” Mike was hopping down the stairs backwards.
    I didn’t get it. “Some kids still have a mama or a papa? What are they doing here?”
    Mike missed a step and almost crashed down the stairs.
    â€œMy mama’s coming for me soon, buddy,” Harvey said. “She’s just in a jam right now. So both of yours are dead. You’re a whole.”
    â€œThree-quarters. My stepmother gave me up.”
    â€œThree-quarters!” Mike