Bull Head Read Online Free

your sentence.” Hammy comes into the living room and stands before Earl.
    â€œYou could be a little more grateful is all.”
    â€œChrist, I’m grateful all right. You make me laugh. Lecturing me on being grateful.”
    Earl looks past Hammy around the room. The walls are grimy in spots. Workers walk past the unit, shovels on their shoulders, laughing in the sunlight. The fridge door is ajar, the coffee pot empty but the machine still on. “I’m getting some air.”
    â€œThere you go. Run and hide. Nothing’s changed.”
    â€œShut the damn fridge and turn off the coffee machine.” Earl goes outside, punts the plastic pail, and watches it sail across the yard and crash into the fence. He kicks over the toy dump truck. The workers have gone around the corner, but another wave of them sit on the back of a pickup, legs dangling off the tailgate. He reminds himself to bring Arlene flowers when he gets home; it seems like the right thing to do. He’s not sure if she even likes flowers. He decides he’ll bring her chocolate; what woman doesn’t like chocolate?
VII
    The drone of the TV fills the room as they eat dinner.
    â€œYou still dancing?” Hammy says.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œDancing. Two-stepping. Are you still dancing?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œWhat’s it matter why? I gave it up.”
    â€œWhy? No more room for all those trophies?”
    Earl shakes his head.
    â€œThen why?”
    â€œNothing.” He feels the sting of his admission, another failure at sticking with something, and wishes Hammy would stop.
    â€œDon’t make sense to me, Earl. You were real good at it.Made you happy. Or at least it seemed that way.”
    â€œDidn’t have time no more. Not like you.”
    Hammy pushes his plate aside, leans his forearms on the table and laughs. “Least I’m committed. Do my time, don’t hurt no one.”
    â€œUntil you get out.”
    â€œThe good Lord’s keeping a watch on me. One day at a time, bro. I’m doing my best. That’s all I can do. You might try it.”
    â€œThe good Lord? Bad as any woman. Makes demands of you. Haunts your every move. Tells you what’s right and wrong and punishes you for either, and then turns around and does whatever the hell He wants. Will let you down time and again, and if He don’t, He’ll expect something in return, something you can never give ’cause it ain’t ever enough. Praise the Lord! Give thanks on ye, Lord! No way, little man. You hang onto Him, but the fact is, once you step outside of that fence, blinking like some dumbstruck lamb in the sunshine, standing in front of the pearly gates of heaven, you’re gonna fuck it all up. Sure as snow in January. And where’s He gonna be then?”
    Hammy stops smiling. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, his face colourless and slack, as if his jawbone has been unhinged. Earl fears his brother might start to cry. Hammy opens his eyes and stares at the light bulb on the ceiling he had taken down when they first arrived. He takes a deep breath and tips his head forward to look at Earl. His eyes are damp, but still.
    â€œYou know, Big E, the good thing about getting reacquainted with your own people is that you learn some new things about them, and you get to remember the old things you liked.”
    â€œI was out of line.”
    â€œThere’s nothing I can do about the past. Can’t think about it, gotta move on, and live one day at a time.” He leans forward. “I try to look for the good and positive in everyone, including myself. Hell, it ain’t easy. You should give it a shot, too.”
    â€œSounds like your social worker’s been doing a tap dance on your head.”
    â€œMaybe. I dunno. It’s better than the alternative.”
    â€œWhich is?”
    â€œAnger. The bastard child of being all alone.”
VIII
    Hammy