Страница 11 из 44
I, Ashley Morales, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath one month of my natural life to Gu
Ashley Morales Signature
Neena Weyler
Signature of Witness
Then there was this other guy who had come from confession, and his priest wanted him to say like fourteen thousand Hail Marys for writing obscene graffiti on the Gowanus Expressway. He negotiated it down to one month of community service. I guess the kid figured a month donated to Gu
The kid was all worried about it, though, and took it even more seriously than Ashley.
“I don’t want to give up a month if I’m go
“C’mon, it’s not like it’s real or anything,” I remind him. “It’s just to make Gu
’Yeah,” he says, “but what if turns out to be real after all—like those chain e-mails you gotta forward to ten people, or you die?”
“Those aren’t real!” I tell him.
“Yeah,” he says. “But how can you be sure ... ?”
I think about that and get all uncomfortable, because I have been guilty of forwarding those stupid e-mails, too. But I usually just send them to people I don’t like.
I sigh. “Okay. What if I make your contract void if you’re scheduled to croak before next month? That way you won’t owe any days, and you can enter the pearly gates totally free of debt.”
He thought about that some more, finally agreed, and happily went back to his priest, mission accomplished.
I, Jasper Horace Januski, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath one month of my natural life to Gu
1. The month shall not be this coming May or June, or the last month of Gu
2. The month shall be taken from the end of my natural life and not the middle.
3. The donated month shall be null and void if my own expiration date is less than 31 days from the date of this contract.
Jasper Januski
Signature
Dewey Lopez
Signature of Witness
I have to admit, it felt good to be doing something positive for Gu
I don’t know how it affected Kjersten’s social standing, but it sure did elevate mine. Everybody wanted to know about it, but I kept quiet, because I figured Kjersten might respect a guy who didn’t kiss and tell—even if that guy was one year and seven months younger than her. (Yes, I snuck into the office and checked her school record to find out exactly how much older than me she was.)
Kjersten never mentioned the article or the picture or, for that matter, the kiss. But she did continue to tell me what an entirely great guy I was, which meant another piece of Trident might only be a few days away.
“It’s so, so special that you’re sensitive to Gu
At the time I had laughed, and wondered how she could call it “a little problem.” I’m not wondering anymore. And I’m not laughing either.
I, Howard Bernard Bogerton, being of somewhat sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath one month of my natural life to Gu
1. The month shall not be this coming May or June, or the last month of Gu
2. The month shall be taken from the end of my natural life, and not the middle.
3. The donated month shall be null and void if my own expiration date is less than 31 days from the date of this contract.
4. Should Gu
HOWIE BOGERTON
Signature
Ira Goldfarb
Signature of Witness
By Friday, I had gotten Gu
6. A Nasty Herd of Elephants That Are Nowhere Near as Embarrassingly Adorable as Me. Don’t Ask.
Nobody gets up early on Saturday morning in our house anymore. Friday night’s a late night for the restaurant. Mom and Dad are usually up even later than me—and that’s saying something. I slunk into the kitchen at around eleven that morning to see Mom, clearly still on her first cup of coffee, trying to comfort an inconsolable Christina.
“But I don’t want to put Ichabod to sleep,” Christina said through her tears. “It’s inhumane.”
“It’s inhumane to let him suffer.” She looked at our cat, who was now lying on the windowsill in the sun. If he was suffering, he wasn’t showing it. It was actually the rest of us who were suffering, because poor Ichabod was so old he had forgotten the form and function of a litter box, and had begun to improvise, leaving little icha-bits in unlikely places.
“It’s the way of all things, honey,” Mom said sympathetically. “You remember Mr. Moby—and what about your hamsters?”
“It’s not the same!” Christina yelled.
Mr. Moby was Christina’s goldfish. Actually a whole series of goldfish. She named them all Mr. Moby, the same way Sea World named all their star whales “Shamu.” Then she graduated to hamsters, which were cute, cuddly, vicious little things that would devour one another with such regularity you’d think ca
“Mom,” I said, “couldn’t we just let nature take its course, and let Ichabod go when he’s ready?”
“I’ll clean up if he misses the litter box,” Christina said. “Promise.”
’Yeah,” I said. “Maybe she can levitate it out the window.”
Christina scowled at me. “Maybe you could give Ichabod one of your friend’s extra months.”
This surprised me—I didn’t even know she knew about that, but I guess word gets around. Fortunately it flew miles over Mom’s head.
’You know what?” Mom said. “I’m not go
I went over to Gu
We were halfway through The Grapes of Wrath and had decided that, for our project, we were going to re-create the dust bowl in Gu