The Belief in Angels Read Online Free

mother’s not here and my father won’t say where she is. She’s probably at her friend Natasha’s place. My father doesn’t like Natasha. He says she’s a bad
influencer
and calls her a bitch. My mother smokes smelly herb cigarettes when she hangs out at Natasha’s. I like to go there because I like to play the drum set in the garage and my brothers don’t know about it yet.
    “You should count your blessings the
kind
will heal from this. Almost killedby a crazy man with a gun. Still you want to ask me for more money. This home is my wedding gift.”
    “If it’s a gift why don’t you transfer the title to us? It should be ours to do whatever we want with.”
    “This way it never becomes lost in maybe a poker game.”
    My father doesn’t say anything, but I’m thinking he’s real mad. He doesn’t like it when he doesn’t get his way. I imagine my grandfather sitting in the den. He probably thinks it looks silly because my father lets the people who come to visit him write their names on the walls with black magic markers, even though we’re not allowed. Plus there’s a moose head stuck over the TV and he put a pair of sunglasses on its eyes so it looks like Miles Davis. That’s my father’s favorite singer.
    “We could make more money on the land than you paid for the entire house. It’s a temporary situation though. This man could change his mind about where he wants to build and pay someone else if we wait too long,” my father finally says.
    “Yes. There’s always a time limit with these golden opportunities. I give you the money to start businesses before this. The ad business, the fish and chips store. All have failed. After you purchased the bar, you told me you needed more money to expand. But, I see no expansion. The one thing that has expanded, as far as I can tell, is your wallet for brief times. I saw the
beyz
man who came into your bar to collect his money. I don’t know what kind of trouble you found, but this kind of trouble doesn’t go away when you throw money at it. Maybe you should call police.”
    “I’m not going to call the police. You don’t understand, old man. The police can’t do anything. I borrowed money and I have to pay it back.”
    “You borrowed? You lost bets? Which is? Borrow or lose? Never mind with the answer. You receive no more money.”
    My father says, “They might try to hurt Wendy or the kids. To teach me a lesson. You don’t want anything bad to happen to them, do you?”
    “Now you threaten with the
kinder?.
I know you’re mixed up in
meshugener
business. Money buys everything but good sense, my brother Oizer says. He warned me not to give more money to you, but I wanted you to succeed for the
kinder’s
sake, for Wendy’s sake. I thought you would make a good husband. Now I see you’re a criminal. You’re going to drag my daughter and the
kinder
into it. Maybe it’s good they kill you.”
    I suck my breath in. I’ve never heard my grandfather talk like that to anyone. My father gets mad when anyone talks back to him, and I worry he might try to hit my grandfather.
    “Why don’t you ask your family? Maybe your sister will help this time?”
    “Listen. I can’t ask my sister. She’s got too many expenses. My family doesn’t have the money, or I’d ask them.”
    “Maybe you ask too many times to them? Maybe they decide like I do. Enough is enough.”
    My father doesn’t answer. I can hear him moving the big bottles on the bar, opening the small refrigerator in the den, then the tinkle of ice cubes in a glass.
    “Chivas?” he asks my grandfather.
    “No. No thank you.”
    The only thing I’ve ever seen my grandfather drink is the berry-colored wine at holidays, the
man-of-chivas
wine my mother hates.
    “You have no money for paying your debts, but I see you still have money for alcohol and expensive furniture and televisions.”
    My grandfather sounds really angry now. His voice shakes and he’s shouting.
    “All the money. All the