Pool_1

that sucker blade to the dirt, glowering at the 'DON'T LOWER BLADE BELOW THIS LINE' line. He was crazy with heat. He was crazy with sneezing. He was stoned with antihistamines whose broken gel capsules were stuck undissolved on the roof of his mouth and in his throat. But this he knew, the grass must suffer! This line, the 'DON'T LOWER BLADE BELOW THIS LINE' line will be crossed! It was. And like the grass in this drought, he too needed water. Hell, he needed ice, "Where can I get something cold to drink?" he rasped at the old man, who - up close - he could see had wild gray hair, a look of the ages, a face of stony resolve, yet kindness, and who had sat on the curb all day, just passing time, watching him slave over the miles of lawn, getting up only to follow the youngster to the backside of the apartments. The old man never once was out of sight. "I see she suckered another of you college boys. Tell you how smart you was? Needed you, I bet? Ha. You ain't so smart." Marcus just plopped next to the old fellow on the curb with his head down, between his legs, blinded by the salt in his eyes, "Intelligence is poisoned by trust," barely audible. "Whoa. That's good. At least you're still standing, well - sitting now. The last kid got dragged off." Marcus tried peering out of one shriveled eye at the old guy, "Fainted?". "No. Croaked. Weak heart, or something. Needed the spending money." "Oh, Jesus!" Marcus moaned. "Don't take that name in vain, son." "No. No, I mean oh Jesus. Sincerely. Not in vain. How can people be so vicious?" But these words had difficulty peeling off his lips which were glued together. It sounded