Free Catch Rider (9780544034303) by Jennifer H. Lyne

the Tastee-Freez and pulled into the parking lot. Four teenagers sat on the hood of a car, laughing and flirting. I pulled some crumpled bills out of my pocket and picked a few quarters off the dirty floor mat, then ordered a cheeseburger and fries from the takeout window. I recognized one of the kids as the cute boy from the lunchroom. The other boy was his ugly, dimwitted friend. His family lived in the trailer park and fought with everyone in town about everything. He’d been in trouble for hunting on posted land, drunk driving, and selling pot, but he finally got his when he tried to lie to a game warden about his fishing license. In Allegheny County, that was like treason. The game warden took one look at his gap-toothed lying smile, arrested him, and sent him to jail for two weeks.
    The dimwit looked me up and down. “Hey, ain’t your uncle Wayne Stewart?”
    I ignored him.
    â€œâ€™Scuse me!” he said, louder.
    â€œYeah, what if he is?” I answered.
    â€œDoes he live in that old shit shack down in the hollow?”
    His girlfriend laughed.
    I got ketchup for my fries, trying to ignore them. I was so hungry that I was shaking. I walked toward my car clutching the bag of food.
    â€œI’m just asking,” he continued. “Didn’t think anyone could live in a house that had a hole in the roof. Does he have a toilet, or does he shit in the field with the donkeys?”
    I faced him. The girls snickered.
    â€œCome on, Tommy, stop it,” said the cute boy.
    I walked up to the dimwit, stopped, clenched my fist, and punched him in the mouth.
    One girl screamed. The other one laughed. “Oh, Tommy, you got hit by a girl!”
    â€œKeep talking about my family,” I said as he grabbed his face. “I’ll knock your goddamn teeth out.”
    Blood running down his lip, he grabbed me by the throat with both hands. “I’d knock you flat, ’cept I don’t hit girls.”
    He tightened his grip until I choked, then let go. I pushed him away and got into my car, coughing.
    â€œPoor white trash!” his girlfriend yelled at me.
    â€œYou oughta know!” I yelled back.
    I drove half a mile and pulled into the entrance of the National Forest, shoving the food in my mouth without even tasting it. When I parked, I saw two kids making out in the back of a pickup truck. They saw me and sat up quickly, and I realized that it was Eileen Cleek and some boy from school. I put the car in reverse and drove away. Even Eileen Cleek, the girl everyone called a lesbo, had a boyfriend.
    I drove up the mountain for half an hour, looking for June. He always made me feel better, but he wasn’t easy to find. He only came out when he was walking to town to get his usual staples: cheese nabs, Dr Pepper, cornmeal, and kerosene. I wondered what it was like to live in the hollow with your brother and sister for seventy years, no electricity or running water. He always seemed happy, and it didn’t take much to make him smile. I had only seen his sister, Maybelle, and his brother, Clifford, once, when I was ten. They had come to church for revival week. I’d never seen their little farm. Jimmy had told me all about it, but he’d always gone there alone.
    I parked by the ram, hoping for June. The ram was an old pump the Army Corps of Engineers had put near Natural Well, and it made a low, rhythmic sound as it pumped cold water out of the ground and over the mossy rocks in the shade. This was near the path June took to get to his house, but no one else knew.
    Boy, I bet they’d made some moonshine back in that hollow years ago. Wayne had explained to me how perfect these mountains were for homemade liquor—you got the clean water, the kind of trees that didn’t give off much smoke, and the privacy of the deep dark hollows. Wayne and Jimmy used to get jars of apple brandy from somewhere up in here, but hell if I knew where.
    I watched the ram pumping