thumbs together with the rest of his fingers— slightly cupped.
He has to do it right, the way Gimpy wants him to do it.
There are echoes inside him that say, do it right and they will like you.
And he wants Gimpy and Frank to like him. When Gimpy has finished working his dough into a ball, he stands back, and so does Charlie.
"Hey, that's great. Look, Frank, he made it into a ball." Frank nods and smiles.
Charlie sighs and his whole frame trembles as the tension builds. He is unaccustomed to this rare moment of success.
"All right now," says Gimpy. "Now we make a roll." Awkwardly, but carefully, Charlie follows Gimpy's every move.
Occasionally, a twitch of his hand or arm mars what he is doing,
but in a little while he is able to twist off a section of the dough and fashion it into a roll.
Working beside Gimpy he makes six rolls, and sprinkling them with flour he sets them carefully alongside Gimpy's in the large flour-covered tray.
"All right, Charlie." Gimpy's face is serious. "Now, let's see you do it by yourself.
Remember all the things you did from the beginning. Now, go ahead."
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