k's arms；
crying； screaming： 〃Stop it； Jack！ Stop it！ You're going to kill him！〃
He had blinked around stupidly。 There was the hunting knife； glittering
harmlessly on the parking lot asphalt four yards away。 There was his Volkswagen；
his poor old battered bug； veteran of many wild midnight drunken rides； sitting
on three flat shoes。 There was a new dent in the right front fender； he saw； and
there was something in the middle of the dent that was either red paint or
blood。 For a moment he had been confused； his thoughts
（jesus christ al we hit him after all）
of that other night。 Then his eyes had shifted to George； George lying dazed
and blinking on the asphalt。 His debate group had e out and they were huddled
together by the door； staring at George。 There was blood on his face from a
scalp laceration that looked minor； but there was also blood running out of one
of George's ears and that probably meant a concussion。 When George tried to get
up； Jack shook free of Miss Strong and went to him。 George cringed。
Jack put his hands on George's chest and pushed him back down。 〃Lie still；〃 he
said。 〃Don't try to move。〃 He turned to Miss Strong； who was staring at them
both with horror。
〃Please go call the school doctor； Miss Strong；〃 be told her。 She turned and
fled toward the office。 He looked at his debate class then； looked them right in
the eye because he was in charge again； fully himself； and when he was himself
there wasn't a nicer guy in the whole state of Vermont。 Surely they knew that。
〃You can go home now；〃 he told them quietly。 〃We'll meet again tomorrow。〃
But by the end of that week six of his debaters had