“I'm sorry about what happened to your dad's boat,” I said, trying my hardest to sound sincere.
When Jasper Jr. shoved me, I wasn't totally surprised. He isn't a big kid but he's wiry and strong, and he likes to fight. It's one of the only things he does well.
“Lay off,” I said, and naturally he pushed me again.
“Your crazy father sunk our boat!” Jasper Jr. snarled.
“I said I was sorry.”
“You're gonna pay for this, Underwood.”
Normally I try to stick to the truth, but I wasn't in the mood to get punched in the face, which is what Jasper Jr. had in mind. So, to calm him down, I said, “I just came by to see if I could help.”
“I'm so sure.”
“Honest!”
Jasper Jr. sneered, which is another thing he's good at. I found myself studying the shape of his head, which reminded me of an extra-large walnut. He wore his hair in a buzz cut, and you could see shiny lumps and crinkles in the skin of his scalp. Maybe everybody's skull is knobby and weird underneath their hair, but on Jasper Jr. it made him look even meaner.
He said, “Underwood, I'm gonna kick your butt from here to Miami.”
“I don't think so.”
“Yeah? And why don't you think so, dorkface?”
“Because your dad's about to come over here and kick yours,” I said, which was true.
Dusty Muleman had been hollering for his son from the other side of the basin. Jasper Jr. hadn't heard him because he was too busy messing with me, and now his father was seriously ticked off. I pointed across the water to where Dusty Muleman stood glaring, his arms folded. Jasper Jr. spun around and saw for himself.