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jugungas.
"Let's go down to the ceramic shop." Ever since we saw Ms. Harriet in her bedroom with her top off Terry has been trying to get me to go see her, or to get me to join a ceramics class, which is something Momma wants me to do and Dad says I can join for free if I want to since it's him and Gill's store, but I've got practice and that's more important.

"I don't want to," I told him. "Besides, I've got to go to baseball practice like coach Shuler said."

"Why?" He looked at me like I just handed him a turd. "You weren't gonna' make the team anyhow."

"Was too, and if I hadn't a broken my arm I'd be playing first base." He was just jealous because I was gonna' sit next to coach.

"Well, that's stupid, just goin' to practice to sit and watch other idiots play when you could be looking at those jugungas of Ms. Harriet's for an hour." Terry looked like I handed him an even bigger turd. "He just said all that stuff 'cause he pities you."

"What's stupid is thinking you're going to see those things ever again." I walked down the hall from him, turned around and came back. He pissed me off, and if I wasn't hurt I'd stuff him in his locker the way all the bullies in school do. "And if anybody should be pitied it should be you for being such a big dork."

"Did you notice?" I waved my cast in his face, not quite finished with him. "I can't exactly do anything with this hand, and what would I do in a ceramics class with a left hand that can't even pick my own nose without taking out an eye?"

"Jugungas, dude," he held his hands out in front of that scrawny chest of his. "Jugungas!" Terry walked away laughing.



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