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Show 21 past the door for you, but after that you'll have to lug him home somehow on your own." After they'd dragged unconscious Jame outside the building, Big John snapped his fingers, saying, "Wait a minute! I got a brainstorm." He leaned Jame against the sheet-steel wall of the building, telling Karl, "Keep him propped up till I get back." Jame had opened his eyes, but they didn't focus -- the green of his eyes looked glassy. He stared at Karl as though he couldn't decide who Karl was, or what the two of them were doing outside in the hot sun. Karl struggled to keep Jame's sagging body from slipping to the ground, but the struggle didn't keep him from thinking about losing his job. Deep disappointment made his eyes sting, made his nose feel runny. Since he couldn't let go of Jame, Karl rubbed his nose against the sleeve of his shirt. "Here's something that oughta work," Big John announced when he returned. "This old hand cart was dumped because it's all wore out, but it'll probably hold Jame for one trip." Big John propped the handles of the cart against the wall, then lowered Jame into it. "His legs is gonna hang out and drag, but you oughta be able to pull him if you walk backwards. That's the best I can do." Big John shook his head. "I'm gonna miss that crazy Culley. Best damn rougher in the whole steel industry. When he comes into his head, tell him it was a great shenanigan he pulled. He'll want to hear that." Clyde, the catcher who was now a rougher, had come to the door. "Big John," he said, "you better get inside might fast. Weitz is squawkin' like a rooster with a rupture. Here, I brought Jame's hat." |