Chapter 53

“He’d never punched anyone before. He said it hurts your hand as much as it hurts their face.”

“It does.”

“How many dudes have you punched?”

“Just the one,” I’d said. Then I’d stolen the ball from him in order to avoid having to offer more detail.

The stream, when we got to it while hiking, looked too inviting not to stop, even though the level was running low that year.

Archie got right in, lying flat on his back. The water only about halfway up his side, he had to splash it over his, flat gut and chest. The sparse amount of hair there showed up better wet. I pretended not to notice how the years, adolescence, puberty, working out some, was changing Archie before my eyes.

“Coming in?” he asked me.