Read Every Boy Should Have a Man for Free Online Page B

feed on them, but they were sickly fish because the water was drying up. The swamplands smelled of death and decay. You see, man is not only a hunter that keeps the le-gator numbers in check, but a specialized herbivore that removes millions of pounds of deadly vines and weeds which clog the waterways of the swamplands. He feeds on these plants, which help in his digestion, and he also uses them to build the crude nest he calls a home. Man keeps the deadly weeds and choking vines in check. Man keeps the swamplands alive. Man is an essential part of the life system of the swamplands. Man brings life.”
    The boy bowed his head and made a reverent sound.
     
    * * *
     
    In the last week of the female man’s pregnancy, the boy put on her leash and took her to the circus to see the fighting mans.
    These were professional fighting mans, and the fights were exciting, with lots of punching and scratching and biting, as biting was legal in professional fights. His female man watched each fight with interest. At the end of each bout, the boy would point to the winning combatant and say to her, “Oh, he’s not so tough. You could beat him, couldn’t you?”
    And she would nod her agreement and fire angry punches into the air, fighting an invisible opponent.
    As they were leaving, they passed the stands where the singing mans were singing, and he felt a tug on her leash. He told her, “Okay,” and she led him to the sound of music.
    Onstage there was a man playing the singing harp, after that two female mans came on and played a colored flute and banged on a tinny drum, and finally three singing mans in blue appeared.
    The boy and his female man leaned toward the stage to get a better look as the mans sang. Indeed, it was the three singing mans owned by the wealthy boy they had met at the field.
    The one with the lidless eyes, the fattest of the trio, waved his fingers at the female man and she waved back.
    As they sang, his female man shed tears and pouted.
    When it was over, the boy went behind the stage to where the owners were leashing their mans after the performance.
    The wealthy boy who owned the three singing mans in blue saw him and said, “They were good, weren’t they?”
    “They were very good,” the boy answered.
    “Has your father finished building the proper kennel yet?”
    “Yes, she sleeps in it every night. She likes it a whole lot.”
    He did not tell the wealthy boy that because of the cost of building the proper kennel, their meals of late had been meager and many nights he had gone to bed with an anguished stomach that grumbled.
    The wealthy boy was nibbling on a meat stick as he leashed his three singing mans. The poor boy watched the meat stick, his stomach grumbling. The wealthy boy caught him eyeing the meat stick, and the poor boy turned away.
    The wealthy boy said, “Here, you can have one.” He opened his sack and the poor boy saw inside, and there were meat sticks and candy rolls and sweet breads and every treat that a boy at a circus could ever want. The wealthy boy reached into the sack, withdrew a meat stick, and handed it over.
    The poor boy thanked him and pushed the meat stick into his own empty sack and said, “I’ll save it for later.”
    The wealthy boy passed him a sweet bread from the sack. “Friend, you’re at the circus,” he reasoned most kindly. “Eat something now.”
    The poor boy tore open the sweet bread and popped a piece of it into his mouth where its softness dissolved in a sugary deliciousness on his tongue.
    As they ate their circus breads, the wealthy boy and the poor watched their mans.
    The one with the lidless eyes was talking to the poor boy’s female man. They listened as the man with the lidless eyes told her, “I will always be here. You never have to fear. I am your song bird forever and ever.”
    “The silly things mans say,” said the wealthy boy.
    “I once had a man that talked.”
    “Did you really?”
    “I only had him for a week. He belonged