There were times when your mother and I had to go through all the clothes in the closet just to find a quarter to buy milk."

"Hey look, Pop, it's a classic."

"Oh yeah? Read page two-sixty-seven, that's classic filth."

"I thought you didn't read it."

"Goddamn smartass. You break your back to send them onwards and upwards, so they could be and do and have things you never dreamed of, and they reward you like this." He slammed the book down on the table.

"Louis! Get that book off the table! We're eating!"

"You see? Now you've got your mother upset!"

The family ate in silence. No one laughed at Dick Van Dyke. Richie finished and excused himself, heading for the door.

"Sit down and have dessert."

"I don't want dessert."

"Just have some cooked fruit."

"No, seeya."

"Hey, Professor Filth, where you going?"

"Over to C's."

"You coming back this week?"

Richie slammed the door behind him and headed across the projects.

 

"You lazy sonovabitch I refuse to clean this shithouse anymore if you keep trackin' mud and godknowswhat on my new carpet every time you come in this house. THE NIGGER MAID AIN'T WORKIN' HERE ANYMORE, YOU UNNERSTAN'?"

"Stop your bitchin'. You don't get off your ass all day anyhow, an' don't call me a sonovabitch in front of my children. I GOTTA GET RESPEC' IN MY HOUSE. I AM ... THE ... BREADWINNER HERE."

Richie rang the doorbell. Utter silence.

From the living room. "Yeah?... whozzat?"

"It's me." He hated yelling through a closed door.

C's old man opened the door. He was fat and bald and mean and short. He was indifferent to Richie. C's parents resumed their argument.

Richie walked through the foyer to C's room. Her little brother Dougie was hiding in the kitchen eavesdropping on the fight. Richie kicked him in the ass, and he stumbled into the dining room. "Hey, you stupid fuck," Dougie hissed. He scampered back to the kitchen before he was noticed. Richie continued down the hall. "The Wanderers are faggots, the Wanderers are faggots."

"Dougie, I'm gonna wash your mouth out wit' soap," warned his father.

"He kicked me ... he kicked ... oh, man ... I'm leavin' home."

"Don't forget your toothbrush."

Richie walked into C's room. She was hunched over a blue loose-leaf notebook: "C & RG" and "True Love Will Never Die" on the cover in her fanciest handwriting.

He peered over her shoulder and saw

[Image]

She hadn't heard Richie come in because her record player was blasting the Shirelles off the walls. He poked her in the ribs. She screamed, wheeled around, and crumpled the paper into a ball. They plodded through her homework for an hour. Richie finally wrote out the whole assignment himself.