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