Pool_1

"Lotto gestured, and Chuck was dropped in a heap, 'Your sister's a freak.' " "A barely audible rattle into the dirt, drowned out by sickened wailing girls, forewarned, 'You're not done. You - are - not - done.' Carrying him homefriends and onlookers crying in his behalf, had as their only assurance that he was alive his half conscious repetition 'not done, not done, not...' I was just.. what? oh, almost seven years old then. My sister was baby sitting me when this aftermath of my brother was slopped onto the kitchen table by these impromptu pall bearers. A tending of Lazarus began. I clutched the ice to his lips as Sissy cleaned the dirt from his many wounds. He beckoned for frozen meat, which was held to his eyes. He had practice and had done this before. My fear for Chuck's life was numbed by my urgency to help him. The ice! I was welded to the job of holding that ice, somehow that was a life saving thing to do. What did I know? Chucky was dying. So I held it until it melted and ran wildly for more. Ice! Save Chucky. Save Chucky! But those words - not done." "My next oldest brother Aldo, a kinky haired blonde talker, not a fighter, ran in on this mess with an 'Oh Jesus, Jesus. Sal killed Chucky. Sal killed Chucky,' to which I yelled, not realizing what it meant , 'He was not done, Aldo! Sal, was not done. Chucky said so!' " "Chuck patted my head, and nodded, with a rasp, ' N-n-n-no, h-he-he wwwasn't dzzz-thhd-done.' I didn't know what that meant, but Aldo did. 'I'll call Nino,' Aldo whispered into Sissy's ear as she very imperceptibly agreed with her eyes. Chuck was too blind to see this.