Free The Life and Times of Benny Alvarez by Peter Johnson Page A

father was something else I don’t remember.”
    â€œA coward,” Benny interjects.
    â€œYeah,” Jocko continues, “and we were all hoping you’d just shut up, because most people knew Claudine’s dad had split the week after her parents had that big fight outside school.”
    I do remember that.
    â€œSo she hates you, man. Think about it. You’re depressed because your dad leaves. You’re embarrassed because your parents are swearing at each other in front of your friends and teachers, and then some dude tells you your father’s a loser.”
    â€œI didn’t say that.”
    â€œHe’s right,” Beanie says. “He said the character was a loser, not her father.”
    â€œDuh, you guys are dense.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell me this back then?”
    â€œI don’t know, maybe because she can get on my nerves too. I’m not saying I don’t have your back. I’m just saying you can be a real jerk.”
    I don’t know what to say, so I try making a joke. “My grandpa says I’m a card. Why don’t we go with that?”
    Jocko smiles. “Yeah, you’re a card, all right. The Old Maid.”
    â€œNo,” Beanie says, “he’s that card in Monopoly that says ‘Go to jail. Do not pass Go or collect two hundred dollars.’” Then Beanie grabs the Book from his back pocket and looks up the word “card.” “Here it is: a clown, an eccentric, a freak, a nut, an oddball, a weirdo, a zombie.”
    â€œI rest my case,” Jocko says, then holds out his arms and stumbles toward me like a hungry zombie.

Hector the Mouse
    I ’ve never understood Jocko’s obsession with vampire-zombie-werewolf books. They aren’t even scary anymore, though I’m surprised schools let kids read them. When I was in fourth grade, I found this great book in the school library about three kids who live in the city, and in one scene the bully gets drunk. When a mom heard about that, she complained, and the school removed the book. I guess they were afraid we’d read it and start drinking, even though the drunk kid was a loser. Meanwhile, at the same school, there were at least fifty vampire books, a few where people get their heads cut off or even get eaten. So I guess they’re saying it’s better to be a cannibal than a drunk? I ranted on this in class one day when we were talking about censorship, and Ms. D said, “That’s one way of looking at it, Benny.” Whenever someone says that, what they’re really saying is “That’s really negative, Benny, and I’d rather not deal with your nonsense today.”
    Right now, my mother’s saying the same thing about my take on Crash’s response to a mouse that has suddenly appeared in the basement. My father’s standing in the kitchen, wearing his winter boots, and two plastic mousetraps are opened on the counter in front of him. He has a butter knife in one hand, dipping its tip into a jar of peanut butter, then spreading a little on the traps.
    I guess when he was cleaning his workroom, he scared a mouse from its hiding place, so now it’s wandering around the basement.
    â€œCrazy little bugger,” my father says. “I thought he’d see me, then hide, but I made about thirty trips, and every time, he’s bouncing off the baseboards like a drunk.”
    My mother is trying not to laugh at my father’s boots.
    â€œIt’s not funny, Margaret. I didn’t see you going down to help.”
    â€œI would’ve called a professional,” my mother says.
    â€œAnd spend a fortune?”
    â€œWhat’s a Dumpster doing outside the house?” I ask.
    â€œWhat grade are you in, Benny? A Dumpster, thirty trips from the basement. Get it?”
    â€œYour father finally decided to toss all the junk the previous owners left,” my mother says. “I told him to wait until