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w back part one part two part three part four part five // henry by Mark Spencer & Shawn Chuisano _______________________________________________________________________________________ w w w I
rode my bike up the driveway of my house. Dog’s Harley was
dripping oil on the concrete next to Mom’s beat-up Chevy
Caprice, which was dripping oil, too.
Dog
was sprawled on the sofa, watching the Animal Attacks! video.
The phone was ringing, but he was ignoring it.
“Where’s Mom?”
“Hey, watch this, kid.” He nodded at the TV. A leopard
was going after a giraffe, then brought it down. The giraffe’s
long neck sagged and then it died as the leopard munched away. It
was pretty gross.
“Mother
nature is one heartless bitch,” Dog said.
The
phone was still ringing.
“Is
the answering machine unplugged?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Your
daddy called your mommy and left a message to call him back. Then
he called again. Then Mona pulled the plug. You know your
mom. But isn’t that cool?”
“What’s
cool?”
The
phone stopped ringing.
“That
leopard.”
“Why
you watch this?”
Dog
sat up and looked at me for the first time since I came in. “You
get in a fight, kid? Or some chick been suckin’ on your neck?”
I
touched the welt on my neck. “I got shot in the neck with a
paintball.”
“Did
you beat the crap outta the guy that did it?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
“Good.
You wanta know why I watch this?” He pointed at the TV with one
of his thick fingers. Dog had the thickest fingers of any human
being I’d ever seen. “Cause it’s real, kid. The real
reality TV. It ain’t no lame Survivor
crap.
Or Fear
Factor. That crap is more like fag
“A dinosaur?”
“Not
just any dinosaur, kid. A velociraptor. You ever been to
that museum with the dinosaurs?”
“Yeah, like on a field trip every year since first grade.”
“I
love them mothers. All the teeth and claws and horns. That’s what made those mothers survivors. You wanta get by in this
world? You got to have teeth and claws and horns. How did
you feel after you beat the crap out of the guy that shot your neck?”
The
phone started ringing again.
“Kinda
sick. I felt like I was going to puke.”
Dog
gave me a big frown that looked a little like his dinosaur’s sneer.
“That’s no good. You got to enjoy it. You got to acquire
a taste for blood until it’s what you want
to drink for breakfast.”
“Thanks
for the tip.”
“It’s
true, kid.”
“Where’s
my mom?”
“Gettin’ spruced up.”
I
started to head back toward Mom’s bedroom but stopped and came back
toward Dog a couple of steps.
“Did
you ever know my mom before my dad left?”
He squinted at me. “You accusin’ me?”
The
phone stopped ringing.
“I’m just asking.”
“In
my world, foolin’ with another man’s old lady is a good and fast way
to get yourself planted six feet in the ground.”
“So you didn’t?”
“Mona was a free agent when she pinched my cute little butt the first
time. So you love my tattoo or what?”
“Sure.”
I
went back to Mom’s bedroom. The door was shut, and I knocked.
“Mom. It’s me.”
“What
you want?”
“I
wanted to let you know I was home,” I said staring at the door.
“Okay. I know you’re home.”
“You
going out?”
“Yeah.”
“Where
you going?”
Mom
opened her bedroom door and stood there with her hands on her hips,
annoyed. She had on a real tight skirt and a tight t-shirt and a
lot of make-up.
“You’re
going out looking like that?”
“Who
the hell you think you are? My mother?”
She walked fast to the living room, me following.
“I
thought you were sick.”
“Who
said that?”
“You
said you had a condition and needed an operation or something.”
In the living room, Mom twirled in front of Dog. “How you like?”
The
phone started ringing again. Everybody ignored it.
Dog grabbed at her. “Let me show you, baby, how much I like.”
Mom pushed his face away. “The kid.”
“What was that all about you needing money?” I said.
“I
do need money. That’s why I’m dressed this way. I have a
job interview.”
“What kind of job interview?”
“Red Dog Tavern.”
The
phone stopped ringing.
“The
Red Dog? But, Mom, that’s like a big hang out for drug dealers.
The cops raid the place all the time. Some guy got knifed to death
there about a month ago.”
“Yeap.
Messin’ with another guy’s old lady. What I tell ya, kid?”
Mom smiled a little and said, “I know how to take care of myself.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Don’t
start with the lip shit, kid.”
“You’ve
had four jobs since Dad left, and you quit them all.”
“Doing
what you hate is what being a grown-up is all about.”
“Got
that right, baby.”
“Then
why did you quit them all?”
“I’ll
quit this one too, if I get it. As soon as I make enough money.”
“I’ll
get you the money.”
“Gonna rob a bank?”
“Why
the Red Dog?”
“I
can make good tips.”
“How
about going back to that insurance office? It was a nice place.
All you had to do was answer the phone and type some. You liked it
at first. You really liked it. That guy you worked for
called here and said you could have your job back any time.”
“You don’t know anything about it, kid.”
“I
do. I do too. That guy was nice. Mr. Anderson. He was nice.
I could tell. He always wore a suit, and he had that
car—-”
“Guess what, Henry?”
“What?”
“I’m the adult. I know that’s a surprise to you to learn.
But I’m the adult.”
“That
doesn’t make you smart.”
Mom slapped me.
Dog
grinned at me. “Gotta know when to shut it off, kid.”
“Will you turn the damn TV off.”
“Sure, babe.” Dog turned off the TV with the remote.
Mom gave me a look. “Yeah. That was the guy. At
I
said, “I’ll get a job. I can get a paper route.”
“That
would only take you about a decade to make some real money.”
If
you work at the Red Dog everybody will think you’re a—” I stopped
myself. My face was still stinging.
“Will
think what, kid? What will they think I am?” I thought she
was going to whack me again.
“I
don’t know.”
“You
don’t like it, then go live with your father and Jenny the Ninny.”
“I
don’t want to live with them.”
“Why
the hell not? Jenny the Ninny would probably bake you cookies
before you got home from school every day. They could call you
Beaver. And maybe you can grow up
Everybody
was frozen and silent like we were a movie and the DVD player had locked
up.
Then
the doorbell rang.
Mom looked at Dog, her eyes kind of big. “You think it’s the
repo man come for your Harley?”
“Repo man don’t ring no doorbells. He just steals
your stuff and runs.”
The
doorbell rang again.
Mom looked at me. “You get it.”
I
went to the door and opened it. Dad and Jenny were standing there,
Dad in civilian clothes and Jenny in a maternity dress and her long hair
pulled back. She smiled at me, but it was kind of stiff, and I
knew some shit was about to hit the fan.
“Hi, Henry,” Dad said.
“Hi, Henry.”
I nodded at them.
Mom came to the door. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve
been calling, Mona. I wanted to let you know we were coming over.
Can we come in?”
Jenny said, “Hi, Mona,” but Mom acted like she didn’t see her,
much less hear her. “What for?” she said staring at Dad.
“We need to have a family meeting.”
“A family meeting? We’re not a family. And if we ever
were, she was sure as hell never part of
it.” “We’re all part of Henry’s life.”
I said, “You here to arrest me or something?”
“I’m just here as your dad, Henry. This time.”
“Why not save yourself another trip, and do it now.”
“What kind of trouble? I got a job interview.”
“She’s going to work at the Red Dog.”
“The Red Dog? Really, Mona?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Fine. Listen, I’m really concerned about Henry. Can we
come in?”
Mom sighed loud and then stepped out of the way so they could come in.
Dad saw Dog on the sofa. “Hello, Larry.”
Dog got up, and they shook hands. “Hey, do me a favor. Don’t call me Larry.”
Dad nodded.
Mom said, “If she’s going to be here for this so-called family pow-wow,
then Dog gets to be here too.”
Dad looked at me, and I shrugged. I didn’t care.
“Yeah, I was just givin’ the kid some fatherly advice a few minutes
ago.”
“Fine,” Dad said.
They all sat down in the living room, Jenny next to Dad on the sofa,
along with Dog, Mom in a chair, me standing and fidgeting and ready to
bolt if I had to. Dog was really giving Jenny the eye like he
wanted to jump her bones, big belly and all.
Jenny smiled at Mom. “I like the way you have your
Mom’s
eyes glinted like steak knives. “I guess you’ve never seen my
house before, have you? It used to be Big Henry’s, too, you
know.”
“Well, no, I’ve never been here before.”
“That’s good to know.” Mom looked at Dad. “So
what’s up? What’s this all about?”
Jenny
started staring at Dog’s chest, and he was eyeing her stork legs.
“Hey, Jen, you starin’ at my tattoo?”
“I’m
sorry. But what is that?”
“It’s
okay. You can stare. It’s a Velociraptor.”
“Oh.”
“You
can touch it.”
Mom’s
face was redder by the second. “Why don’t you two go out on a
date so you can get to know each other better. Now, what the hell
are we here for?”
Brandi came through the front door and stopped, and her mouth dropped
open. “What crazy shit is this?”
Dad said, “Brandi, hi. We’re—”
Mom
said, “Have a seat. Your father has news. He’s here to
arrest Henry or something.”
“I hope so.”
Brandi sat down on the floor next to Mom’s chair.
“Okay, here’s the situation,” Dad began. “Krebs filed
another complaint. Says Henry paint balled his car last night and
then came in his restaurant today and threatened his life.”
Dog
grinned. “Way to go, kid.”
“I
caught him looking at Brandi’s tits.”
Dad
put on his patient, kindly dad face. “Henry, you can’t stop
people from looking at each other.”
“He
paid her to show them to him. To show them naked to him. I caught
them.”
“You
saw them? You saw Brandi—”
“Yeah,
she had her shirt undone and her . . . her . . . jugs all hanging
out.”
Brandi’s
face lit up like it was Christmas morning. “God, Henry, you make them
sound huge.”
“This
right, Brandy?” Dad asked.
“He
offered me fifty bucks.” Then she turned to me. “You
really think they’re big?”
“You’re
such a whore, Brandi.”
“I
didn’t even get my money, thanks to you. Again.”
Then
Dad made his millionth mistake with Mom. “Mona, don’t you have
any control over these kids?”
“They
don’t listen to me.”
“What
about setting an example? What kind of example are you setting for
them?”
“What
the hell does that mean?”
I
said, “Yeah, what the hell does that mean?”
“Don’t
you swear at me, young man.”
“Swear
all you want, kid. That’s the kind of thing I teach you, isn’t
it? To swear all the time? Threaten people’s lives. Go ahead, kid.
Tell your father what a lousy mother I am.”
“Now,
Mona, all I’m saying—”
“I
know what you’re saying. Brandi, tell your father how I’m
training you to be a whore. Just like me.” Brandi
giggled. “Jesus, Mom.”
“Oh,
excuse me. Drunken whore. I forgot the drunken
part.” She looked at me. “Who wants to work at the Red
Dog.” Then she turned those steak knives onto Dad. “There you go, big guy, Mr. father-of-the-year.
That what you
wanted me to confess? Are you happy now?”
“Mona,
I’m just concerned about our kids.”
“You
weren’t so concerned about them when you walked out.”
“Mona,
I couldn’t take it any more. I . . . I don’t want to talk
about that. We’ve got to do something about Henry. Brandi,
too, it sounds like.”
“You
smug asshole. You don’t think your shit stinks, do you?”
“For
God’s sake, Mona, you don’t have to be so vulgar in front of the
kids.”
“I’m
sorry but I’m pretty good and Goddamned pissed right now. Mr.
Holy Joe comes over here to tell me I’m a lousy, no-good mother, and
where the hell has he been?”
“I’ve
wanted to be more involved in the kids’ lives. I want them to
start coming over on weekends.”
Jenny
piped up. “He really misses them. He says so all
the time. It really depresses him.”
Mom
slid her eyes over to Jenny and then put on a really evil grin. “Jenny, you look so cute in that outfit.
So how old are you?”
“I’m—”
“You look so--oh, what’s the word? So . . . wholesome. Yeah, wholesome.”
Jenny
was stiff as hell. “Thank you.”
“Mona,
let’s get back on track. Henry’s on the verge of getting into
some real trouble.”
“Wouldn’t
make you look too good down at the station, now would it? To have
a juvenile delinquent kid?”
“That’s
not it. I love Henry.”
“Yes,
Jenny, you certainly do look wholesome. Innocent. How
old--?”
Dad
said, “Mona . . . .”
“Wait.
I want to ask Jenny something. Can I ask you something, Jenny?”
Jenny
was trembling now, I swear. “Yes. Sure.”
“Thank
you. Now I want everyone to listen to my question, and I want
everyone to listen to her answer. I’m certain that someone who
looks as wholesome as Jenny here couldn’t possibly tell a fib. We’ll all know that what she says is the truth.”
Dad
sounded like a cop. “No games, Mona. We’re here to talk
about Henry.”
“No
game. Just a simple question. Simple answer. Yes or
no. That simple. Are you ready, Jenny?”
Jenny’s face was pink and kind of sweaty looking. “Yes.”
Mom
took her time, everybody looking at her and Jenny.
“Okay,
Miss Jenny. Here it is.” Mom looked at her long
scarlet-painted fingernails. “Were you doing my husband before
he left me?”
Everyone stared at Jenny, waiting. Brandi had her mouth hanging
wide open, lapping up this whole scene like a big dog.
“Simple yes or no will do,” Mom said.
Dad said, “Mona, let’s stop this right now.”
Then Jenny lifted her head, swallowed, and very softly said, “Yes.”
Mom looked at her with a big, awful smile. “What dear? Can
you speak up?”
I looked at Dad. “What the hell? You were always accusing
Mom.”
“Henry.
Believe me, it’s not . . . was not a simple matter of right or
wrong.”
I bolted. Man, I was outside all of sudden and didn’t know how I
got there. It was like I was beamed there. I felt kind of the way
I did after I beat up Brandon--I thought I was going to puke. But
I didn’t want to take the time to puke and I just kept moving. I
jumped on my bike. My paintball gun was hanging from the
handlebars.
Mom’s
dad, grandpa, used to come see us when we were a family. He really
liked Dad and was pissed at Mom when Dad left us, like it was her fault.
Anyway, he used to come visit, and he always said I rode my bike like a
bat out of hell. I never knew exactly what he meant, but I was
thinking about that as I peddled away from the house as hard as I could.
I heard Dad yelling at my back. “Henry! Henry!” I
just kept going.
In
a couple of minutes, I heard a horn blowing and I looked around to see
Dad and Jenny in their Camry. I
turned at the next intersection, hopped up onto the sidewalk, then
turned up an alley, Dad chasing me all the way and laying on his horn.
I’m sure people were gawking and making up their own stories about
what was going on, but I didn’t see them because the whole world was a
blur of colors and, anyway, I didn’t care. The wind scraped my
face.
I
crossed a lawn, then another and another, and I think somebody yelled at
me, but I didn’t care. I knew I wanted to get to the park and
the woods because Dad couldn’t follow me and I could get lost. I
found a trail that crossed a field of grass somebody never cut, and soon
I was zooming into the thick woods.
I
was still peddling hard, but it was getting dark and the world wasn’t
a blur of colors much anymore. It was more a black smear, but I
rode deeper and deeper into those woods until my front tire hit a big
tree root, and I crashed. I flipped over the handlebars and
splattered facedown on the ground. It would have been cool if
I’d seen it on TV and if it had been somebody else and if I didn’t
hurt like hell.
I
just stayed there on my face for a while and cried like I was still some
little kid. And the woods got darker and darker. w
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