Sketches Read Online Free PDF Page A

food and bring it back here,” Brent suggested as he reached down to scoop up the money.
    â€œAnd you are going to get food, right?” Ashley asked.
    I turned to face her. What did she mean by that?
    â€œOf course,” Brent said. He looked sheepish.
    I wanted to ask, but I didn’t. All I wanted was a shower.
    â€œHow about you get me a Big Mac meal,” Ashley said.
    â€œSame for me, but hold the pickles,” I said.
    â€œWe’ll make it three,” he said as he stuffed the money in his pocket. “I’ll be back soon, so don’t take too long in the shower.”
    Brent started for the door.
    â€œBrent . . .?” Ashley called, and he stopped and turned around.
    â€œDon’t worry,” he said. He opened the door and left.
    â€œWhat was that all about?” I asked.
    â€œNothing,” Ashley said. “Well, nothing much.”
    I gave her a questioning look.
    â€œA couple of times Brent took our money and went to get food, but he didn’t get food.”
    â€œWhat did he get?”
    â€œHe got stoned,” she explained.
    â€œBrent did that? That doesn’t sound like him.”
    â€œIt was a long time ago,” she said. “Like, over a month. Besides, he doesn’t even do drugs now.”
    â€œWhat do you mean? I’ve seen him smoke dope before.”
    â€œOh, that was just marijuana. He doesn’t do any real drugs.” She paused. “I also told him if he ever did that to me again I’d make him pay . . . I told him his life was worth more than twenty bucks.”
    Ashley had such a hard look on her face, I knew she wasn’t just joking around. Ashley was pretty tough, and I knew I never wanted to get on her bad side. A few weeks ago I would have crossed the street to walk on the other side if I’d seen her coming.
    â€œCan I ask you something?” I began.
    â€œSure.”
    â€œThat cop . . . he said . . . he said that he might do something worse than just arrest me if he saw me again. What did he mean?”
    â€œHe meant that he might smack you around.”
    â€œHe’d do that?”
    She laughed. “You sound surprised.”
    â€œBut police can’t just hit people.”
    â€œThey’re cops. They can do anything they want.”
    â€œBut it’s illegal to just hit somebody. It’s against the law!” I protested.
    She laughed louder. “You really are from the suburbs.”
    â€œWhat is that supposed to mean?”
    â€œIt means that the only contact you’ve probably had with cops is when they gave your parents a speeding ticket. It’s different down here. Cops do some things that aren’t exactly by the book.”
    â€œYou’re telling me that all the cops downtown smack people around?” I asked.
    â€œNot all cops,” she said. “Most of them are okay, but not all of them.”
    â€œAnd you’ve seen this?”
    â€œI’ve seen lots of things. Some guy doesn’t do what the cops say, or maybe resists them, and then one thing leads to another.”
    â€œHave you ever been hit?”
    â€œI’ve been pushed around before, but never hit. Like I said, just don’t resist. If they say to move along, just move along. Don’t argue, don’t give them any lip or attitude, and you’ll be okay.”
    I decided right then that no one was going to have to tell me twice. I wasn’t going to give anybody any attitude. If a cop ever told me to leave, I’d just leave.
    There was still one thing that nagged at me.
    â€œThe cop said that every kid on the street hooks . . . everyone .”
    â€œNot everyone,” Ashley said.
    â€œThat’s what I thought. I’d never do that!” I protested.
    Ashley didn’t answer right away. “You should never say never.”
    â€œI know I’ll never hook.”
    Ashley gave me a look—a look of despair and anger and upset and disbelief and