Early Autumn Read Online Free PDF Page B

recalcitrant kids this age are about taking guidance from parents. They are working through the Oedipal phase, among other things, often they look and act as if they haven’t had any care, even when they have. It’s a way to rebel.”
    The Celtics threw the ball away. The Suns scored.
    I said, “Are you familiar with the term blowout?”
    “Is it like a burnout?” she said.
    “No, I mean the game. You are witnessing a blowout,” I said.
    “Are the Celtics losing?”
    “Yes.”
    “Want to leave?”
    “No. It’s not just who wins. I like to watch the way they play.”
    She said, “Mmm.”
    I got another bag of peanuts and another beer. With five minutes left the score was 114 to 90. Ilooked up at the rafters where the retired numbers hung.
    “You should have seen it,” I said to Susan.
    “What?” She brushed a peanut shell from her lap. She was wearing blue jeans from France tucked into the tops of black boots.
    “Cousy and Sharman, and Heinsohn and Lostcutoff and Russell. Havlicek, Sanders, Ramsey, Sam Jones, and K. C Jones, Paul Silas and Don Nelson. And the war they’d have with the Knicks with Al McGuire on Cousy. And Russell against Chamberlain. You should have seen Bill Russell.”
    She said, “Yawn.” The sleeves of her black wool turtleneck were pushed up on her forearms and the skin of her forearms was smooth and white in contrast. On a gold chain around her neck was a small diamond. She’d removed her engagement ring when she’d gotten divorced and had the stone reset. She’d had her hair permed into a very contemporary bunch of small Afro-looking curls. Her mouth was wide and her big dark eyes hinted at clandestine laughter.
    “On the other hand,” I said, “Russell ought to see you.”
    “Gimme a peanut,” she said.
    The final score was 130 to 101 and the Garden was nearly empty when the buzzer sounded. It was nine twenty-five. We put on our coats and moved toward the exits. It was easy. No pushing. No shoving. Most people had left a long time ago. In fact most people hadn’t come at all.
    “It’s a fine thing that Walter Brown’s not around to see this,” I said. “In the Russell years you had to fight to get in and out.”
    “That sounds like a good time,” Susan said. “Sorry I missed it”
    On Causeway Street, under the elevated, it was very cold. I said, “You want to walk up to The Market? Or shall we go home?”
    “It’s cold,” Susan said. “Let’s go home to my house and I’ll make us a goodie.” She had the collar of her raccoon coat tinned up so that her face was barely visible inside it.
    The heater in my MG took hold on Route 93 and we were able to unbutton before we got to Medford. “The thing about that kid,” I said, “is that he’s like a hostage. His mother and father hate each other and use him to get even with each other.”
    Susan shook her head. “God, Spenser, how old are you? Of course they do that. Even parents who don’t hate each other do that. Usually the kids survive it.”
    “This kid isn’t going to survive it,” I said “He’s too alone.”
    Susan was quiet.
    “He hasn’t got any strengths,” I said. “He’s not smart or strong or good-looking or funny or tough. All he’s got is a kind of ratty meanness. It’s not enough.”
    “So what do you think you’ll do about it?” Susan said.
    “Well, I’m not going to adopt him.”
    “How about a state agency. The Office for Children, say, or some such.”
    “They got enough trouble fighting for their share of federal funds. I wouldn’t want to burden them with a kid.”
    “I know people who work in human services for the state,” Susan said. “Some are very dedicated.”
    “And competent?”
    “Some.”
    “You want to give me a percentage?”
    “That are dedicated and competent?”
    “Yeah.”
    “You win” she said.
    We turned onto Route 128. “So what do you propose,” Susan said.
    “I propose to let him go down the tube,” I said. “I can’t think of