Bisson_rucker_billys.. - Rudy Rucker

“Sorry,” said Vernon. He held up a cigarette and broke it in two. He had a whole
pack.
Vernon was mean. Billy hated him.
Billy had an idea. “I will trade you my helmet,” he said.
“What helmet?”
“It’s a Dale Earnhardt helmet,” said Billy. “It has a number 3 on it.”
“Let’s see it,” said Vernon.
Billy ran into the house and got the helmet. It still had puke in it. It hadn’t dried up
yet.
“Here,” said Billy. He handed the helmet over the fence. It was black.
“Earnhardt was one of the Greats,” said Vernon. “Not stupid like you.”
He gave Billy a cigarette and then he put the helmet on his head.
The puke ran down over his face. It was yellow.
Vernon got mad. “Now I’m going to kill you,” he said.
“You can’t,” said Billy. “You can’t get over the fence.”
It was true. Vernon didn’t have any feet. He couldn’t get over the fence. Instead
he rolled back and forth in his wheelchair.
Billy was glad the fence was there.
That night Billy shook so hard that his bed rattled. He wanted a cigarette.
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“What’s that noise?” asked Billy’s mother.
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