Chapter 17Randy lay on his bed, staring out his window: gray, low-hanging clouds and naked branches of an oak tree in front of the house, reaching up to meet the sky.
“Randy! The paper came. You wanna see it?” his mother called up the stairs.
Randy hoisted himself up and went to the top of the stairs. His mother stared into the late afternoon shadows, holding the paper in front of her like a gift.
“Why don’t you look at it, Ma? I don’t need to be first.”
“I gotta get supper on the table. Your father’ll be home soon and you know he’ll disappear into the bathroom with it. Come on, take it.”
Randy went down the stairs and took the paper from his mother, knowing it would make her happy. He went into the living room and sat down with it.
Every Thursday the local Berwyn paper came out. It
