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Show 4, Jeffries, Islamorada "See Mr. Clayton she bein' polar-" the boy appealed. "Compelling poetry, Roosevelt, and ordinarily the way to a young lady's, but, you see how literature spins off into all these social questions, it's only 1973, and. . .restless eyeballin. . ." She smiled, appeased. Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt and Lincoln looked from Clayton to Candy and made the Eddie Anderson face, that Rochester face, empathizing the fear up into the wide whites of their eyes. "A near miss last night," Maurice announced, "out on the road-how 'bout them Cavs?" "Mmmmm," Mr- Clayton mumbled, dreaming off himself, "them calves. . ." "I'm saying' Mr. Clayton did you listen to that collision, Cavs and the Bulls?" "Huh?" "Them Cavs! Bingo and Nate and The Brew--your Cleveland Cavaliers?" He was palming that big Spaulding up threateningly at the teacher. A dangerous kid, the administration had put in the daily bulletin, leave him alone. Special permit disciplinary transfer from Goodyear. And now they'd diagnosed the food allergy problem, woe the day Maurice had hurled a cup of Dr- Pepper |