Dunk by David Lubar Page B

were stained with mustard, but I didn’t care. Even the little piece of dried sauerkraut didn’t bother me. Thirty dollars for two hours of work. I stared at the bills for a moment. Then I remembered where I was and jammed the money deep into my pants pocket. Anybody flashing around cash was asking for trouble. You never knew who was in the crowd. It just took one person who was desperate enough, or wasted enough, and someone would get hurt.
    As if I wasn’t already hurting. I got up and staggered toward home. When I reached the ramp for my block, I plopped down on another bench and put my feet up on the railing. I took a deep breath of the night air, heavy with the scent of salt and kelp. Man, it felt good to sit back. At least it did until somebody threw a choke hold around my neck.
    I panicked as the arm slipped under my chin and tightened against my throat, pinning my back to the bench. “You know what I want,” my attacker whispered, his hot breath washing across my ear. The grip grew tighter, threatening to crush my windpipe. “I want your priceless collection of dirty socks.”
    I relaxed as I recognized Jason’s voice. He released my neck and plopped down next to me.
    â€œI thought you’d gone home to die,” I said.
    He shook his head. “I’m great. All I needed was some sleep. Now, you, on the other hand, look like someone who’s not going to be around for long. What’d you do, ride the coasters all night?”
    â€œNo such luck.” I told him about my evening’s work.
    After I was done, all he said was, “Wow, thirty bucks. Good deal. Run the numbers, man. You can make over two hundred a week, if he keeps paying you that much. Of course, maybe part of that was like a first-day bonus. Even so, looks like you found a gold mine. Or a golden goose. Or whatever.”
    I shook my head. “No way. I can’t do it.”
    â€œCalifornia,” Jason said. “Close your eyes and imagine the beach. Imagine a place where it never snows. You know how many colleges there are near there? And that means lots of college girls. You gotta stick with it.”
    â€œCan’t,” I said. It was more than the aches and pains. It killed me to spend all that time listening to Malcolm, watching him work and knowing he wasn’t going to invite me to trade places.
Come on, Chad, hop right in. The water’s fine
. Yeah, right.
    â€œSanta Monica,” Jason said. “There’s a pier. Rides. Games. Food. They have tournaments all the time. I can make big money out there. We’ll buy an arcade with my volleyball winnings.”
    â€œHome,” I said, getting up from the bench. “It has a bed, blankets, and a pillow. No college girls, but nothing’s perfect.” I staggered a couple steps and tried not to groan. My muscles were already growing stiff.
    â€œWow, you really are hurting,” Jason said. “Let me help.” He bent down, threw an arm around my back, and lifted me onto his shoulder.
    â€œKnock it off!” I yelled as the world turned upside down. “I can walk.”
    I could feel Jason shake his head. “Nope. What are friends for?” He jogged toward the ramp. “I can’t let you down.”
    Naturally, people stared at us as we left the boardwalk. I hated that. They probably thought I was wasted. At least they didn’t stare too long or too hard. There was enough other stuff going on to catch their attention. Besides, people got carried off the boardwalk all the time.
    Jason finally put me down after he’d lugged me a block. I looked carefully at his face. I was worried he’d pass out again. I weighed more than the boxes we’d carried this afternoon. As far as I could tell, he seemed fine. I guess whatever was wrong with him, it was over.
    â€œHey, you’re bleeding,” Jason said. He pointed to my back.
    â€œWhat?” I remembered getting banged and bruised,