You'll Always Remember Me Read Online Free PDF Page A

more bugles. His flesh was like a sack of water that had fallen and burst full of holes. The blood was splattered out in jagged streaks all around him.
    We stood around about five minutes, the rest of the kids and I, nobody saying anything. Then a faculty officer chased us away, and that was the last I saw of Pushton.
    Supper was served as usual but there wasn’t much talk. What there was of it seemed to establish the fact that Pushton had been a thick-witted sort and had undoubtedly leaned out too far trying to fix the aerial wire and had fallen.
    I thought that that could have easily been the case, all right, and since I had hated the little punk I had no conscience about it. It didn’t bother me nearly so much as the fact that Tommy Smith was going to die. I had liked Tommy. And I was nuts about his sister, wasn’t I?
    That night study hall was converted into a little inquest meeting. We were all herded into one big room and Major Clark talked to us as though we were a bunch of Boy Scouts. After ascertaining that no one knew any more about Pushton’s death than what they had seen on the cement, he assured us that the whole thing had been unavoidable and even went so far as to suggest that we might spare our parents the worry of telling them of so unfortunate an incident. All the bloated donkey was worrying about was losing a few tuitions.
    Toward the end of the session Duff Ryan came in and nodded at me, and then sat down. He looked around at the kids, watched Major Clark a while, and then glanced back at me. He kept doing that until we were dismissed. He made me nervous.
    FRIDAY morning I woke up and listened for reveille but it didn’t come. I lay there, feeling comfortable in the bed clothes, and half lazy, but feeling every minute that reveille would blast me out of my place. Then I suddenly realized why the bugle hadn’t blown. I heard the splash of rain across the window and knew that we wouldn’t have to raise the flag or take our exercises this morning. On rainy days we got to sleep an extra half-hour. I felt pretty good about this and put my hands behind my head there on the pillow and began thinking. They were pleasant, what you might call mellow thoughts. A little thing like an extra half-hour in bed will do that.
    Things were working out fine and after tonight I wouldn’t have anything to worry about. For Duff Ryan to prove Tommy was innocent after the hanging would only make him out a damn fool. I was glad it was raining. It would make it easier for me to lay low, to stay away from Marie until the final word came….
    That was what I thought in the morning, lying there in bed. But no. Seven-thirty that night Duff came over to the school in a slicker. He came into the study hall and got me. His eyes were wild. His face was strained.
    â€œRuth and I are going to see the lawyer again,” he said, “you’ve got to stay with Marie.”
    â€œNuts,” I said.
    He jerked me out of the seat, then he took his hands off me as though he were ashamed. “Come on,” he said. “This is no time for smart talk.”
    So I went.
    Ruth had on a slicker too and was waiting there on the front porch. I could see her pretty face. It was pinched, sort of terrible. Her eyes were wild too. She patted my hand, half crying, and said, “You be good to Marie, honey. She likes you, and you’re the only one in the world now that can console her.”
    â€œWhat time does Tommy go?” I asked.
    â€œTen-thirty,” said Duff.
    I nodded. “O.K.” I stood there as they crossed the sidewalk and got into Duff Ryan’s car and drove away. Then I went in to see Marie. The kid looked scared, white as a ghost.
    â€œOh, Thorpe,” she said, “they’re going to kill him tonight!”
    â€œWell, I guess there’s nothing we can do,” I said.
    She put her arms around me and cried on my shoulder. I could feel her against me, and believe me,