Previously …
Cammy’s father was home. He hoped he was asleep and then Cammy could leave early in the morning without his father knowing. The garage was open so Cammy walked his bike in and set it in a corner out of the way. He didn’t close the garage. He turned the light off so no one could see inside. He opened the door quietly, hoping his father is in bed, or asleep on his recliner in front of the television. He
Shane Wellner | Rawr
closed the door without making any sound. The door clicks when he locks it. His dad’s voice roars from the living room.
Currently …
“Cammy?”
Cammy felt the familiar intestinal squeeze of anxiety when he heard his dad’s voice. His breathing was fast and shallow.
“Come in here.”
His dad was sitting in the reclining chair. He always sat in that chair, directly in front of the television. Cammy thought the room had too many lights on and the television was too loud. The room was always like this when his dad was up late.
“Did you forget to close the garage again?” his dad asked.
Cammy went back to the garage. He turned on the light and grabbed the handle and slowly brought the door down. He cleaned the parts on his bike that Whitney fixed. He was careful not to move any of the parts. He didn’t know how it all worked and he didn’t want to break something. He didn’t want to go back inside. His dad was waiting for him, Cammy knew, he went inside and sat on the couch that was farthest from his dad. His dad spoke over the voices on the television.
“What did you do all day?”
“Swam in the canal with Whitney and his family.” Cammy said.
“That’s stupid, do you understand how dangerous that is? Are you even a good enough swimmer to do that?” His dad slurred his speech.
“I swim fine.”
Cammy felt a jolt of anger, but he didn’t say anything. He stared at the glow from the television. He wanted to go to his bedroom, but he felt stuck. Cammy noticed outside his gaze that his dad was staring at him. He thought the bright lighting revealed his inadequacies. He wanted them off. They felt hot. He felt hot. He was sweating.
“What took you so long to get home?” his dad asked.
“I rode through some thorns and got a flat.”
“Are you kidding me? Don’t tell me you walked all the way back. That’s a dumb thing to do — you telling me I need to buy you a tube?”
“No, I stopped at Whitney’s”
“Oh, good thing you have him to fix your bike for you. You’d still be walking right now, or dead on the side of the road. Those cars can’t see you. You’re going to pay him back for the tube and I’m done buying you tubes. Man up and go ask for work at one of the farms around here, or quit riding through goatheads.”
Cammy stared at the changing lights on the floor that the television made. He heard a snort after several minutes of his dad not talking. His dad’s head looked awkward tilted back and to the side. Cammy waited a few more minutes to make sure his dad was asleep.
He walked softly to his room, passed the chipped wood dresser that held most of his belongings. His room had blank white walls except for a brown stain that grew in the corner above his bed. He stared at the mold. It had grown several inches since they’d lived there. He felt anxious when he thought of telling his dad about it. He thought, instead, of the fluid motion he felt doing back-flips off the bridge over the canal. He thought about trying a back-flip off the railing of the bridge and of how impressed Whitney and his brother would be. He thought maybe he would go to a farm and ask for work and then his dad would know how easily he could do something he wanted to do. He stared at the yawning brown stain on the ceiling until he fell asleep.
(To be continued.)