Chapter 3

“I’m…I’m sorry sir,” I’d stuttered. “The doctor says it’s lazy eye. I can’t control it.” I took off my glasses and made like one of this cat clocks where the tail and eyes move back and forth as each second ticks. “I could bring in a note, if you want.”

“It’s your education, young lad.” He’d scowled, whether he believed me or not. “If you wish to squander it, then that is your prerogative.”

* * * *

Goody-two-shoes Abby and Major, one on either side of me like always, had worked hard not to snicker. Abby could imitate Mr. Bollow perfectly, as long as she was certain he was out of ear shot. As I looked into the dining room, seeing her standing there with her parents, no doubt having a conversation similar to Major’s and mine, the memories kept coming.

“It’s your education, young lad. If you wish to squander it, then that is your prerogative,” she’d say whenever I wanted to hit the hookah pipe instead of studying once at SUNY. Then we’d crack up laughing—every time.