Article May 17, 1975 Issue

It's a Blend

E. Stuart Wells

Bob stood toe-to-toe with Dick. Their voices rose higher in the midevening quiet. They grew shrill and tense.

A window on the second floor of the nearest apartment house flew open. A voice snapped, "Stop that noise down there! Bob, you get up here!" It was Bob's dad. That broke it.

Bob wheeled around and started into the house, Dick right on his heels. On the stairs they struggled. Both boys were athletes, but Bob proved the stronger. He flung Dick off and ran up the stairs. He burst into the apartment, slamming the door and leaning against it. Tears of shame started from his eyes. "I couldn't hit him! I tried to but I couldn't hit him!"

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