Alida's Song
“Many things were normal. Not good, but normal. He had nearly flunked the eighth grade, barely squeaking by, getting passed, he felt, because they didn't want him around the same rooms for another year, just as he had nearly flunked the seventh grade and the sixth grade before it, getting passed on because they did not want him around.
He still delivered newspapers in the morning and still sold newspapers in the bars at night, hustling the drunks for extra dimes and quarters when they weren't looking.
Every night he went to the corner where Johnny delivered the papers wrapped in bundles and gathered forty papers. He went to the hospital first, working room to room until it was after nine. Then he went to the bars when the men and women would be too drunk to count their change very well.
“Come on, Charley, give the kid a buck. You're such a big spender. Give the kid a buck.” And he—the kid—would smile in what he hoped was a winning way and look poor (not hard to do) and some...times the drunk would listen to the woman and give him a buck.MoreLess
He still delivered newspapers in the morning and still sold newspapers in the bars at night, hustling the drunks for extra dimes and quarters when they weren't looking.
Every night he went to the corner where Johnny delivered the papers wrapped in bundles and gathered forty papers. He went to the hospital first, working room to room until it was after nine. Then he went to the bars when the men and women would be too drunk to count their change very well.
“Come on, Charley, give the kid a buck. You're such a big spender. Give the kid a buck.” And he—the kid—would smile in what he hoped was a winning way and look poor (not hard to do) and some...times the drunk would listen to the woman and give him a buck.MoreLess
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