Read Whippoorwill for Free Online Page B

blues?” I asked, because you couldn’t drive around in silence all the way up to North Haverhill and back.
    â€œBigtime,” he said.
    â€œHow come?”
    He shrugged.
    â€œI mean,” I said, “is there a reason? Why the blues and not something else?”
    â€œWhy anything? Who knows why? I like the music, that’s all. And the bluesmen are pretty cool.”
    â€œDid your dad turn you on to them?”
    Danny looked over.
    â€œMy dad is a jackass,” he said.
    â€œSorry.”
    â€œNothing to be sorry about. It’s just the way it is, that’s all. Some people get decent parents, some don’t, and some get no parents at all. Mine’s a jackass.”
    â€œWhere’d your mom go?” I asked, although I had some ideas and had heard some rumors about violence and hitting.
    â€œShe left. No big deal.”
    â€œWe both live with single dads then. That’s weird.”
    â€œI guess that’s true. I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
    â€œFunny the way things work out.”
    â€œI wouldn’t call our home life working out exactly. Would you?”
    â€œMy dad’s okay.”
    â€œHe’s a big Harley man. I respect that.”
    He came to a straightaway and shot past a slow-moving pickup. I imagined I was supposed to ask about the engine under the hood, but I couldn’t come up with a good reason to care. My stomach felt queasy anyway. It was strange having Danny driving, the blues coming through his sound system, the spring landscape pulling at something in my heart. Everything felt sideways, like we were two priests talking through the confessional boxes, both of us staring ahead. I had a hard time figuring out how Danny and I had lived side by side for so long and still knew next to nothing about the other person. My English teacher, Mrs. Philipone, would have found a metaphor about the human condition in that circumstance, but I couldn’t make my mind go there.
    Eventually he pulled into Smitty’s. It wasn’t much of a place from the looks of it. It had one large window in the center of the front wall, and down at the bottom the window had a hairline crack. I followed him inside. He didn’t hold the door for me, but he pushed through first and sort of turned back to make sure I had made it, then he walked right to the counter. The odor of grease turned my stomach.
    â€œI like the General Lee,” Danny said. “It comes with onions, though, so if you don’t like onions you probably don’t want the General Lee.”
    â€œI might just have fries.”
    â€œOh, you’ve got to have a burger. That’s why we drove up here.”
    â€œMaybe a kid’s size,” I said, trying to make my eyes read the menu board. I felt jumpy and frazzled. I didn’t want to stuff my face in front of him.
    A girl came over and took his order. He turned and looked at me, waiting. I ordered a Kid’s Classic, which was about the smallest thing on the menu. We both ordered Cokes. Then he walked over to a linoleum-topped table and sat down. I followed. The girl who took our order said she would call us when our food was ready.
    An old couple sat at the only other occupied table. They ate without talking. The restaurant was partial to country western music, because we heard a twangy song start while we sat. I knew the song, but I didn’t know who sang it. It was all about girls stepping out on a Saturday night.
    â€œSo, you think it’s crazy that we’re sitting here?” Danny asked. “I mean, you know, the way we grew up next to each other?”
    â€œI don’t know if it’s crazy. It’s a little strange.”
    â€œYou never thought much of me.”
    â€œI don’t know if that’s fair to say.”
    â€œOh, it’s fair to say,” he said, and laughed. “You liked looking down your nose at me.”
    â€œI didn’t know