MICHAEL MALONE
439
lots of nights I saw the sun come up. There's no doubt I was golden.
Look, I was big, white, and living in Hope Valley. I was passing
everything in high school with no sweat, and everybody I knew in the
world stood up and cheered when I ran out onto the field wearing
number 45. Acne skipped right over me. My folks were nice as they
could be. I had a big sister who was voted "Girl: Best-Looking" and
"Girl: Best All-Around." In the locker room shower Billy Weather–
spoon said to me, "Your sister's knockers are driving me ker-aazeee. I'd
like to eat them up like two big sundaes with cherries on top. " Of
course I had to plough Billy in the gut for saying that, but the fact is he
was right about Cottie. She was a good- looking girl if I say so myself.
One time I drilled a hole through the back of my closet and I
watched her taking a bath. She shaved her legs and under her arms
every other day. Maybe watching makes me sound like a pervert, and I
guess I'd let Buster have it if I caught him sneaking a peek at Belinda
like that, but we're all on ly human. Dickey Moore
screwed
his sister at
the drive-in, and they both turned out okay in the end. The worse I ever
did was a hand job while I watched Cottie. She tweezered her nipples.
Our folks were as proud of us as they could be. Cottie was a
cheerleader, and I earned four lellers. I had three inches of activities
listed under my name in the year book. I took for the motto under my
senior picture some words of the poet Robert Frost that my mother
found for me. They said , "Happiness makes up in height for what it
lacks in length." Believe me, I got some gross remarks scribbled in by
my friends about what that quote was supposed to mean: Lacks in
length! But we were always horsing around.
I had a '56 Fairlane my Dad got me, a white convertible with red
seat covers. I did things in that car you've got
to
love yourself
to
do. I 'd
pass between an Allied van coming south and a Trailways bus going
north. I 'd drag in the left hand lane right up and over a hill on the by–
pass . I'd cut around a string of gutless geezers weaving behind a tractor,
and I'd go right up on the shoulder past a half-dozen of them on two
wheels, with empties rolling all over the floorboard and a girl slammed
against my shoulder giggling at the top of her lungs from holy terror. I
guess if I found out Buster tried
to
pull a stunt like that, I'd ground
him for good. But back then it just never crossed my mind that I could
die.
I loved that car. The White Knight was its name. I washed it every
other day. Lots of guys stuck racing str ipes on theirs, or junk like fuzzy
dice hung from the mirror, or bumper stickers
("If
You Can Read This,
Back Off, Buddy"), and Billy Weatherspoon had decals of little blue
feet that ran all over his Corvair. But I always kept the White Knight
pure. My mother said, "Mooch ie, if you could keep your room half as
