Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/243

 "See you at lunch?" Glenn asked.

"Yeah, I'll see you. Bye."

He continued down the hall alone.

"Hi, sissy," a dissipated dirty face cried.

Gaylord turned red. His mouth tightened. Then his lips twisted in a sneering smile. "You dumb ugly faced baboon." He didn't care if he had been heard. He lengthened his steps.

"Well, I'll be God damned," thought the boy, scratching his head. He watched Gaylord's graceful stride … Uttered again, "Well I'll be damned."

Class in the gymnasium was hard and tiring. It smelled of sweat and dirty feet. He tried not to breathe the vile air as he sprang up and down, up and down. His body ached. He must breathe. His hands flew over his head … together … apart … wide apart … together … one … two … three, four … and over again.

"At ease," yelled the gym teacher.

Gaylord stood there panting, sweat covering his forehead.

The teacher went right on yelling. "Keep them wide apart, fellows … hey; you on the end … stretch those things you call arms a little more. Touch those ceiling beams … at least try to. And what's the matter with you? Got a corn cob up your ass or something: spread out those legs farther." They stood there with their hands on their hips, taking the nasty words. They were mostly boys, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen and nineteen years old.

Gaylord stood looking at his classmates. His face wet … darn, he knew his hair was a mess. He looked at the boy next to him. He had a flat nose and pimples, big pimples with yellow centers. He turned away quickly and rubbed his nose.

"Okay," cried the instructor. "Let's do this like men and not like a bunch of love sick girls … come on now … one, two, three … four."

Muscles, thought Gaylord. I've got to have big muscles. I've got to be strong. I've got to be able to protect myself. I've got to be strong … strong … I've got to be like Bob … Bob …

Arms went out everywhere, reaching, filling the musty air. 233