Harvey Porter Does Dallas by James Bennett Page A

What’s yours?”
    â€œAlberto Lichtenstein,” was the answer. Lichtenstein was one of those people who had the bouncing Adam’s apple when he spoke. He sat up on the edge of his bed and shook hands with Harvey. “Pleased ta meetcha.”
    â€œWell ’Berto, I’m pleased to meet you too. I think I’ve got a project the two of us need to work on.”
    â€œWhat project?” Lichtenstein looked a little nervous.
    â€œLet me ask you a question,” said Harvey. “What would you do if you wanted to move to a different bed in this dorm room?”
    â€œI couldn’t. They’re all filled.”
    â€œJust what I thought. No freedom of choice; no options.”
    â€œWell, I guess you could say that.”
    Harvey stood up. “Why don’t you come with me for a minute? There’s something I want to show you.”
    â€œIs this the project?”
    â€œExactly.” Lichtenstein stood up, but Harvey could tell how tense and nervous he was. “Oh come on,” said Harvey. “It’ll only take about five minutes and nobody’s gonna hurt you.”
    Reluctantly, Alberto Lichtenstein followed Harvey into the hallway. They made their way down the stairs to dorm room 2A, where the same few guys were still lazing around. Harvey wondered briefly why nobody was reading a book from the reading list.
    Harvey put his arm around Lichtenstein’s shoulders. “Look at this. Four empty beds.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œChoices, ’Berto, choices . On third floor, you have no choices, no options. In other words, no freedom.”
    â€œBut I don’t want to move down here. I want to stay where I am.”
    Harvey took him to the end of the south row, where there were three unoccupied beds. They could talk in private. Harvey gripped Alberto’s left shoulder with his right hand. “Let me explain something. I’m not really askin ’ you. I’m tellin ’ you to look over the four empty beds and decide which one you like best.”
    Lichtenstein looked at Harvey’s swarthy complexion, the feral dark eyes, and the ragged forehead scar. He began to stutter: “How, h-h-how did you get that sc-scar of yours?”
    â€œOh God, ’Berto, if you had any idea how often I get this question. I’ll make it short and sweet. I got it in a fight with Carlos Villanueva. He cut me with his blade, so I beat the shit out of him. I just left him there in the street, all doubled up, he couldn’t even stand up.”
    Lichtenstein’s eyes suddenly were very, very wide. “C-c-carlos Vil-Vilanueva? You beat him up?”
    â€œYeah, but let’s move on. This isn’t gettin’ us anywhere. So tell me which of the four beds looks best to you?”
    â€œI g-guess that one over th-there.”
    Harvey released his grip on Lichtenstein’s shoulder. “Looks like a good choice to me. Lots of windows around it.”
    â€œWh-when do you want me to m-move my stuff?”
    Harvey tousled ’Berto’s hair in an act of affection. “I think right now would work out just fine. Then you can go back to your comic book.”
    â€œOkay, okay, just give me a few minutes.”
    â€œAbsolutely. Take the time you need. You know, ’Berto, you’ve made a really good choice here.”
    â€œYeah, okay.”
    â€œAnd one more thing. This change may have a pay-off for you. Maybe even a big one.”
    â€œWhat’s that?” Lichtenstein asked. He was still very nervous.
    Harvey said, “You look like one of those kids who gets hosed a lot. Am I right?”
    The scrawny Lichtenstein confirmed it by nodding his head several time. “Yeah, that’s one of the reasons I’m here, instead of in regular school. I got teased so much and beaten up so many times.”
    â€œThat’s just what I thought.” Harvey put his arm around the pimply boy’s shoulders. “That’s