Page 168 of I Can't Even Think Straight
I fail to suppress my laughter.
“Skipping?” I splutter.
“Are you telling me
you and The Boys spent the summer
skippingtogether?”
I laugh freely and pay the price
with the pain in my arm.
I wince again.
“Yeah, that’s right.” Matt smiles.
“But Nathan said you were a beast.
And Kwesi said he was scared
to be paired with you.”
“That was just to hold
the punching bag in place.
I guess he could feel
my punch through the bag,
but I’ve not actually
punched anyone.”
“Let’s keep it that way,” I say.
“I thought you said
I’d have to punch someone.”
“When and why would I say that?”
“It was our second day back after summer.
It wasn’t Pavlov’s dog or Schrödinger’s cat,
but it was something like that.”
“Chekhov’s gun...” I remember.
“Yeah, that was it!” Matt laughs.
He makes gun fingers.
He points them at my right foot and elbow.
“Pow!
