The streets were filled with people, and in the crowd Paul felt he could lose himself. His thoughts returned to Mike. How long ago it seemed that Sheldon first picked the president at random in the infamous 200C hall of Don’t Care High.
Paul reached the meeting place before Sheldon, so he seated himself on a bench to await his friend. A young man walked by, carrying a large portable stereo, blasting out the best-known voice on the FM band.
“You’re listening to Flash Flood, kicking off this holiday weekend with a blast! The holiday is that the garbage strike is over, which means that we can all look out our windows, even below the seventh floor! Traffic in from the suburbs today is backed up halfway to Alaska, but sit tight, you frustrated motorists, because the sun is shining through the smog and all systems are go in the greatest city in the world!”
The song that followed was one that Daphne had danced to at the party last night. Paul could see her still, the ultimate leading lady. He had tried so hard to be Steve, but when the dust cleared, there he was, still Paul. Yet Paul wasn’t such a bad thing to be, under the circumstances. After all, he’d had a fifty percent share in bringing Mike to power. Well, at least forty percent. He sighed. With Mike gone, what was Paul now?
“Hey, Ambition.” Sheldon jogged up to the bench. He took in the dejection on his friend’s face and understood immediately. For a brief instant, the two could read each other perfectly. Then Sheldon perked up. “Don’t look so grumpy. ‘Mike is Gone, but his Spirit Lives On.’ You know the slogan — you helped make it up. Funny thing about this world, it’s chock-full of grand opportunities and all sorts of neat stuff. I can’t think of a better place for the offspring of a genius and a guy with ambition.” He gave Paul his most engaging smile. “But right now I could go for some food. I know a Chinese restaurant where the ribs are so delicious and so sticky —”
“— that they cement your jaw together,” supplied Paul sourly.
“Yes! And do you know what else?”
“What?”
“It’s not too far from this very spot. So if you’ll just be so good as to follow me…”
The two each polished off an order of ribs at Steinberg’s Oriental Cuisine, then began walking downtown in companionable silence. On the street, an ancient Checker Cab, travelling seventy miles an hour, shot between two trucks with no space to spare, ran a red light where it was narrowly missed by a cement mixer, and screeched to a halt three-quarters of an inch behind a parked bus to pick up a fare. Paul, the boy from Saskatoon, would have gone home to spend the rest of the day in bed with a hot water bottle, but Paul the New Yorker simply joined in the applause from nearby pedestrians. The cab driver blinked his lights graciously and waved.
“Sometimes ordinary things can be glorious,” Sheldon commented.
Paul was amazed at how heartily he agreed. He took a deep breath and found to his astonishment that the Steinberg’s spareribs had gone down rather well. Where were the headache, dizziness, queasiness, cramps, gas pains and heartburn he had come to know so well every time Sheldon recommended a restaurant? Could it be that he was developing a New York stomach? Given time and a little practice, he might even learn to digest the tomato sauce patented under the name Rocco. With both ambition and a New York stomach, he would really be in good shape!
He was about to voice these thoughts to Sheldon when he caught sight of a dapper middle-aged man in front of a street-side vegetable stand. Paul stopped short and peered at the man’s face intently. He was hard to recognize dressed in ordinary clothes, but yes, there was no doubt that this was the same man Paul used to watch from his bedroom window — the one and only Rabbit Man. Paul watched as his neighbor hand-selected and weighed out twenty pounds of carrots. A strangled laugh escaped Paul’s lips. Saskatoon was a nice place, but only in New York could you run into Rabbit Man right on the street.
“Hey, Ambition,” called Sheldon. “Are you all right?”
Paul smiled so wide it hurt his face. “Just fine,” he replied exuberantly. “All systems are go in the greatest city in the world.”
About the Author
GORDON KORMAN wrote his first book, This Can’t Be Happening at Macdonald Hall!, when he was twelve years old. He has now written more than 50 books for middle-grade and teen readers. Don’t Care High was his first YA novel. It is based partly on his own experience in high school, where, he says, “the only way to get through alive was by laughing.”
Gordon’s books include the New York Times #1 bestseller The 39 Clues: One False Note, The Juvie Three, Son of the Mob, Born to Rock and Pop.
Born and raised in Canada, Gordon now lives with his family on Long Island, New York.
Other books by Gordon Korman:
Born to Rock
Jake, Reinvented
The Juvie Three
Losing Joe’s Place
Pop
Schooled
A Semester in the Life of a Garbage Bag
Son of Interflux
Son of the Mob
Son of the Mob: Hollywood Hustle
Ungifted
Don't Care High Page 19
