Slow Motion Riot Read Online Free PDF Page A

for. So I'd
just watch it."
    I peel his fingers off my arm and
give him a long hard look. "Oh yeah?" I say. "Go ahead. Your
friends can do whatever they want. It doesn't matter. I'm already a probation
officer. I can't go any lower than that."
    A long silence passes. Silver gives
me a wary look, like he's seeing me for the first time. The current in the air
has subtly changed direction. Both of us move our chairs back a little.
    "What the hell is that?"
he says suddenly.
    "What?"
    "That." He points to the
blackboard, where the man I drew for Ricky is still sucking on his turnstile.
    "It's a visual aid," I
say sheepishly.
    "A visual aid? It looks like
homosexual pornography."
    "Well, that's because you
don't know what I'm doing here."
    "Oh okay... What are you doing
here?" he says like a card shark looking for an angle.
    "Come on. I'm not gonna play
games."
    "Who's playing games? I'm
interested." His manner has changed in the last few seconds. He's smiling
now and sounding solicitous. "You're asking me a lot of questions about my
personal life. Aren't I entitled to know something?"
    He cuts me off before I can
protest. "You embarrassed?"
    "No, I'm not
embarrassed," I say, pushing my fingers into the Silly Putty.
    "So what kind of accent is
that, anyway? You from Astoria or
something?"
    I give the ceiling a thoughtful
look, but I can't think of a reason not to answer. " Flushing ,"
I mutter. Most people can't even tell I'm from Queens .
    "I'm from East
Elmhurst myself," Silver tells me. "What street did you
grow up on?"
    " Blossom
Avenue ."
    There's something a little
disarming about the way he's looking at me. " Flushing High School ?" he asks.
    "Yeah, that's right," I
say, putting up my hand to redirect the flow of conversation.
    "We used to play you in
football. It was a good team."
    "Yeah, I guess..."
    "You go home much?"
    "Sometimes," I say,
trying to get back on track. "Anyway. .."
    "Your name's Baum,
right?" he says, closing one eye in concentration. "I knew a guy
named Baum once. Maybe he's related to you. What does your dad do?"
    My fingers begin molding the Silly
Putty into the shape of brass knuckles. "Never mind," I say quietly.
    Silver's eyes widen a little.
"What're you so touchy about? Something the matter with your dad?"
    That's the thing about a guy like
Silver. He just works on you until he finds your sore spot. "Nothing's the
matter with my dad." I light a cigarette. "We're talking about you
anyway."
    "Of course," Silver says,
nodding seriously. "Community service. Is he in jail or something, your
father?"
    I blow a gust of smoke out of the
side of my mouth. "Cut it out," I tell him.
    "Okay. I just like to know who
I'm dealing with, that's all." He leans his head back and smiles slightly,
obviously filing away the information for another day. "You know who you
remind me of?" he says, turning to look at the small Dylan poster on my
wall. "Some of the young guys we used to have doing the community action
programs in the sixties. Good people. Did terrific work."
    "Is that so?" I say,
starting to take notes. While I write down something about what a manipulative
prick Silver is, I think about how it would've been nice to know more about
that era.
    "Yeah," he says, crossing
his legs. "Yeah, those were great programs. The antipoverty councils, the
rehabilitation centers. A lot of young guys just like you running them..."
    "Yeah?"
    "Sure... too bad we had to cut
all their funding and kick them all out on the street..." He grins and
rocks back in his chair. A nice shot, I have to admit. Just his little reminder
that he once held the strings over guys like me.
    "Well, Richard, we've come a
long way since then," I say, putting my glasses back on. "So why
don't I just go over the conditions of your probation with you once before you
go?"
     
     

5
     
    "Awwwwwww, get busy! Get busy!
Get busy! Get busy!"
    That fucking song again. All summer
long it'd been driving Detective Sergeant Bob McCullough nuts. Everywhere