Free Original Sins by Lisa Alther Page B

Louanne?”
    They pointed in the direction of her departure. As Clyde stomped off, Raymond opened the lid to the trash can, peered into it, and called, “Louanne honey, you down there?” His friends killed themselves laughing. But Clyde heard too. He turned around glaring. Raymond released the lid and gave him a sickly smile. All day he received messages via Clyde’s minions that he was to meet him at the bus stop after school. All day he sent messages back that he had a dentist appointment, was sorry about the misunderstanding, etc. As he sneaked out the side door after school, Clyde was waiting for him. A circle of heckling bystanders rapidly closed around them.
    â€œLook, Clyde, I’m sorry. I was just trying to be funny. But I can see it wasn’t funny. It was just mean. And untrue.” Clyde had his fists up and was circling him. “Let’s shake,” Raymond suggested with a weak smile, holding out his hand. “Get your hands up, fairy punk.”
    Raymond felt as though he were in a madhouse. A switch had been thrown, and the charge of electricity had to complete its circuit. There was no way out. The crowd was howling words of encouragement, taunts, and jeers. He lifted his fists.
    â€œOh come on, Clyde, let’s forget it,” he pleaded, as Clyde’s fist buried itself in his stomach. He doubled over.
    As he straightened up and tried to catch his breath, he gasped. “OK, I give up. You win, Clyde.” A blow to the side of his head felled him. But it also made him really angry. He leaped up and hurled himself at Clyde, his fists flailing, David confronting Goliath.
    A couple of minutes later someone yelled that the principal was on his way. The crowd fled in all directions. Clyde and Raymond snarled, then shook hands hastily. Raymond dragged himself home with bloodied mouth, swelling eyes, and aching knuckles.
    Jed, Bobby, Hank, and Raymond stalked through the autumn leaves. Raymond toted his camera and attachments. He shot pictures while the others shot birds and rabbits and looked for deer. They emerged into a field, tromped across it, and came to a small house. Nearby was a pen. A man in overalls sat on the fence looking down into the pen. It contained two huge pigs. They were grunting furiously and circling each other.
    â€œHowdy,” Jed said.
    â€œHowdy,” the farmer replied. They leaned on the fence, watching the boar trying to mount the sow.
    After a while Jed said with a grin, “Hell, I’d a been on her and off again three times by now.” Everyone but the farmer chuckled.
    He looked Jed up and down and drawled, “I reckon I oughta hire you to breed her instead.”
    They hit a dirt road and followed it, leaving the forest behind. At a crossroads was a general store. Out front, on scales, hung a deer carcass. Blood dripped onto the dirt, languid flies buzzed. Half a dozen pickup trucks were parked nearby, a couple with does tied to their roofs. A dozen unshaven men in overalls and undershirts and work shoes stood by the scales drinking clear liquid from Mason jars. A poster on the side of the store was entitled Doe Pool, and underneath were names and numbers. In a cage next to the scale was a moth-eaten black bear. One man kept poking his rifle barrel through the wire mesh. The bear swatted at it and shrank up against the far side. The man would move around to the bear’s new location and poke her again, grinning and looking to the others for approval.
    Jed, Hank, and Bobby were soon passing the jars back and forth, talking and laughing. Raymond stood to one side, trying to be unobtrusive about snapping pictures. He was aware he was using his camera as an excuse not to join in. Because he couldn’t. He got drunk on one beer. He always lost at poker. He choked when he tried to smoke. He hadn’t shot a gun since he used to go mistletoe shooting at Christmas. Once his father had taken him and Jed hunting. They very