what I see in this puss of hers. Kinda cute though … if she only had a nose."
"Huh," put in Joy, wrinkling up her small nose. "Gay likes my nose, don't you, Gay?"
Gaylord couldn't muster up any such false cheer. The three had never walked together before and he wasn't at ease. He never was though. It was nothing new.
"Don't you agree with her, Gay?" grinned Blake.
"I'd … I think Joy's lucky …"
"Gay," Joy cried, "don't you agree with this conceited beast!"
"I was going to say …"
Blake interrupted, "Now don't flatter her. She's hard enough to get along with as it is."
Gaylord's eyes darted from one to the other. The words seemed to rise up at him with a sound of trumpets: You'd like to flatter Bob, wouldn't you, Gaylord?
He was relieved when a group of girls called Joy.
"You two wait here," she said. "I won't be long … you can both take me home." She hurried across the brown grass. Under a tree, about thirty yards away, a group of girls was waiting, and when Joy reached them there developed an exciting chatter.
"Wonder what they're talking about," grinned Blake. "Gals can talk more and say less."
Gaylord's gaze turned to the girls. Looked out over the brown shell of ground, webbed with strewn paper, filled with the sound of feet shuffling and departing. Faces gushed endlessly before him in tides. They had been waiting for this appointed time. Another day of school was over. They had won, and were free to have fun now. They were the most fortunate beings who ever lived. They had come out of the building happy. All smiles. Each one had a name, wore clothing, and each one was born with the same as himself.
He looked at Blake, repeating to himself with a curiously deep emotion, "But me … I'm minus something … I don't know what it is, but I am."
"Damn," Blake grinned. "I sure need a shave."
Gaylord watched Blake run a hand over the short, dark bristles.
