Gutshot Read Online Free PDF

said.
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    She accepted the cigarette he offered on the shady side of the McDonald’s. They talked about the weather and how the back of the bus smelled like garbage wrapped in wet garbage. He told her she looked like a movie star, but he couldn’t figure out who exactly.
    “You need to watch it,” I said.
    “I’m watching everything,” he said, smiling, so close to my face that I could have pressed my cheek to his.
    “Me too,” I said. “Everything.”
    “Come on,” the girl said.
    The driver called us to go but the man didn’t break his gaze.
    “Old bitch,” he said in a convivial way.
    “Not another word.”
    He put his hands up in mocking assent. His half-stripped finger bulged.
    She was at me before I sat down. “Jesus Christ,” she said, drawing it out.
    “Trust me,” I said. “I’ve been where you are now.”
    “I thought he was gonna kill you.” We were rolling out of Quartzsite. The man had found a new seat behind the driver and was clapping his big hand convivially on the back of a teenage boy.
    “Attention is the most worthless currency on the planet,” I said. “When you treat it like it’s precious, you’re blinding yourself to the possibility that you might find it elsewhere. And it’s everywhere, attention is. You’re a beautiful girl. You have fine features and kind eyes and a good line to your body. See, and now you’re acting like nobody’s ever complimented you before.”
    “Well,” she said.
    “I’m saying you may as well assign a high value to yourself. You should consider all the angles. His attention is a penny placed on a monument. Give the monument your prayers, not the coin.”
    She pressed her lips together. Her every movement came off like a minor miracle, as it was with young women. I tried to remember myself at her age, but when I tried, I only saw a girl lost in the woods.
    “Do you know what I mean?” I asked. Watching her think about it gave me a thrill. It was nice to have an interested third party. I wanted to say more but stopped myself and allowed her to flatter me with her consideration. Outside, the landscape began to bear fruit. We trundled past long lines of orchards and roadside stands. I opened my book to return to the gathering of animals dancing in unison.
    “What are you reading?”
    “It’s a story about magical children.”
    “Magical,” she said, confused. “It’s a kids’ book?”
    “Since you ask, I do feel more calm when I’m reading stories written for young people.”
    “Okay,” she said. “I guess I don’t get it.”
    “You certainly don’t have to get it.”
    We rolled on. “You know,” she said, “I just figured he’d want to hang out.”
    “Don’t you have anyone to stay with?”
    “My dad’s out there,” she said. “In Lakewood I think. I don’t know.”
    “What don’t you know?”
    “I don’t know.” She rubbed her eye with the back of her hand.
    “You should have somewhere to stay.”
    “That’s exactly why I was talking to that guy if you didn’t get the hint.” A portion of her mascara had decamped to make a wet halo around her right eye. “He seemed fine and you ruined everything.”
    I tried to imagine what a benevolent character would do in my book. “You should stay with me,” I said. “You need somewhere safe.”
    “With you?” She lifted one delicate corner of her lip. I could see her watching television on her belly in my living room, picking marshmallows from a box of cereal.
    “Sure,” I said. “For a few nights. Get on those feet.”
    She laughed. “No, I don’t know. We’ll see,” she said. “You totally ruined everything else, so you owe me.”
    “You’re right, I owe you.” Without thinking, I reached for her face. Holding her chin, I wiped away the smudged makeup with my thumb. The girl allowed the movement, keeping very still and looking away. I cleaned her off, thinking about the vast system of payments and debts.
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