over town and even
out
of town a ways, an’ you don’t get to rest in between any of ’em.
So when Pa Kent first tol’ me I was gonna be doin’ this,I says, “Do a lot of other dumb guys do triath-a-lons?” because I figure they gotta be perty dumb or they’d think of a way not to haf to, an’ he tells me quit callin’ myself dumb, which I figure it’s best to get to it ahead of ever-body else. That way, you’re already agreein’ with ’em instead of tryin’ to hurt ’em for bein’ ugly to you. It’s hard to stay friends with smart guys if you’re always tryin’ to make their nose bleed. Pa Kent’s a nice dad and he means good, but I been dumb long enough to be the guy that probly knows how to handle it best.
You gotta kinda look up to Pa Kent for a guy that takes perty good care of you. Like I think I musta come here pickin’ my nose an’ eatin’ it or somethin’, cause he knew right off I wasn’t gonna be one of them Albert Silversteins or nothin’, and he got right busy tryin’ to make sure I didn’t have no more hard life. It musta worked, cause I ain’t had a whole lot to complain about from the time they took me out of my real house up ’til now, ’cept sometimes it feels like I miss my momma. That don’t make sense cause I guess she treated me
real
bad, which is how come everbody thinks I got such a bad temper. Anyway, I might hafta groan a little about this here triath-a-lon, cause it’s harder than just about anythin’ I ever tried to get out of.
I get a little shivvery thinkin’ about doin’ it cause I done all three things by theirselves when I was a kid, an’ ever time there was people got mad at me an’ sometimes they fixed it so I couldn’t do it no more. Like when I got on the Clark Fork Swim Team. I’d do real good in the workouts—be beatin’ just about everbody as old as me, but then when a swimmin’ meet would happen there’d always be somethin’ to mess me up. Like I swam on this relay, which is where a whole bunch of kids swim the same race, an’ I’d get too excited an’ forget when it was myturn, or I’d think it was my turn when it was some other kid’s, an’ I’d get us this thing they called dis-qualified, an’ the other kids on my team would get all pissed off at me and call me dumb. ’Course then I’d have to make one of their noses bleed. Givin’ out bloody noses ain’t the best way to make it so you can stay on a swim team, is what Pa Kent tol’ me, but it was too late.
Or when I went to the Parks and Recreation to be in track in the summer. I was really fast but it was hard to know when you were sposed to stop an’ when you were sposed to keep on runnin’ an’ it would be differnt ever time. That one was easier though, cause lots of times there’d be this ribbon an’ when it hit you
in
your chest you was done. ’Cept the thing I had trouble with, was there was this gun that went off when you were sposed to go. First time it just scared me an’ I ducked, an’ everbody left me down on my knees on the ground while they went an’ won it. But the biggest trouble with track was this kid named James that I beat almost ever time, an’ once after I done that, his dad come up to Pa Kent an’ said I should go to this thing called the Special Olympics so all the regular kids didn’t have to get all embarrassed gettin’ beat by a dummy. Next thing, Pa Kent was fixin’ to make James’s dad have a bloody nose an’ we weren’t invited to be in any more track meets.
The bike part is always good, though, ’cept for where it feels like the seat goes after you been on it too long. I take my mountain bike way out in the woods all by myself where the trees get real tall an’ the road gets all skinny an’ don’t have no more highway on it, an’ when you get far enough out there, it don’t seem like you’re so dumb. Sometimes I stop there cause it’s the only place that feels like that.
Pa Kent ain’t my foster dad’s real name,
out
of town a ways, an’ you don’t get to rest in between any of ’em.
So when Pa Kent first tol’ me I was gonna be doin’ this,I says, “Do a lot of other dumb guys do triath-a-lons?” because I figure they gotta be perty dumb or they’d think of a way not to haf to, an’ he tells me quit callin’ myself dumb, which I figure it’s best to get to it ahead of ever-body else. That way, you’re already agreein’ with ’em instead of tryin’ to hurt ’em for bein’ ugly to you. It’s hard to stay friends with smart guys if you’re always tryin’ to make their nose bleed. Pa Kent’s a nice dad and he means good, but I been dumb long enough to be the guy that probly knows how to handle it best.
You gotta kinda look up to Pa Kent for a guy that takes perty good care of you. Like I think I musta come here pickin’ my nose an’ eatin’ it or somethin’, cause he knew right off I wasn’t gonna be one of them Albert Silversteins or nothin’, and he got right busy tryin’ to make sure I didn’t have no more hard life. It musta worked, cause I ain’t had a whole lot to complain about from the time they took me out of my real house up ’til now, ’cept sometimes it feels like I miss my momma. That don’t make sense cause I guess she treated me
real
bad, which is how come everbody thinks I got such a bad temper. Anyway, I might hafta groan a little about this here triath-a-lon, cause it’s harder than just about anythin’ I ever tried to get out of.
I get a little shivvery thinkin’ about doin’ it cause I done all three things by theirselves when I was a kid, an’ ever time there was people got mad at me an’ sometimes they fixed it so I couldn’t do it no more. Like when I got on the Clark Fork Swim Team. I’d do real good in the workouts—be beatin’ just about everbody as old as me, but then when a swimmin’ meet would happen there’d always be somethin’ to mess me up. Like I swam on this relay, which is where a whole bunch of kids swim the same race, an’ I’d get too excited an’ forget when it was myturn, or I’d think it was my turn when it was some other kid’s, an’ I’d get us this thing they called dis-qualified, an’ the other kids on my team would get all pissed off at me and call me dumb. ’Course then I’d have to make one of their noses bleed. Givin’ out bloody noses ain’t the best way to make it so you can stay on a swim team, is what Pa Kent tol’ me, but it was too late.
Or when I went to the Parks and Recreation to be in track in the summer. I was really fast but it was hard to know when you were sposed to stop an’ when you were sposed to keep on runnin’ an’ it would be differnt ever time. That one was easier though, cause lots of times there’d be this ribbon an’ when it hit you
in
your chest you was done. ’Cept the thing I had trouble with, was there was this gun that went off when you were sposed to go. First time it just scared me an’ I ducked, an’ everbody left me down on my knees on the ground while they went an’ won it. But the biggest trouble with track was this kid named James that I beat almost ever time, an’ once after I done that, his dad come up to Pa Kent an’ said I should go to this thing called the Special Olympics so all the regular kids didn’t have to get all embarrassed gettin’ beat by a dummy. Next thing, Pa Kent was fixin’ to make James’s dad have a bloody nose an’ we weren’t invited to be in any more track meets.
The bike part is always good, though, ’cept for where it feels like the seat goes after you been on it too long. I take my mountain bike way out in the woods all by myself where the trees get real tall an’ the road gets all skinny an’ don’t have no more highway on it, an’ when you get far enough out there, it don’t seem like you’re so dumb. Sometimes I stop there cause it’s the only place that feels like that.
Pa Kent ain’t my foster dad’s real name,
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