Traplines Read Online Free

was so wasted he kept missing.It isn’t too bad. Tony’s dad broke three of his ribs once. Billy got a concussion a couple of weeks ago. My dad is pretty easy. It’s only Eric who really bothers me.
    The Smythes keep the aspirin by the spices. I grab six, three for now and three for the morning. I’m swallowing the last one when Mr. Smythe grabs my hand. I didn’t even hear him come in. I must be sleepy.
    “Where’d they hit you this time?” he says.
    “I got a headache,” I say. “A bad one.”
    He pries open the hand with the aspirins in it. “How many do you plan on taking?”
    “These are for later.”
    He sighs. I get ready for a lecture. “Go back to bed” is all he says. “It’ll be okay.” He sounds very tired.
    “Sure,” I say.
    I get up around five. I leave a note saying I have things to do at home. I catch a ride with some guys coming off the graveyard shift.
    No one is home. Eric had a party last night. I’m glad I wasn’t around. They’ve wrecked the coffee table and the rug smells like stale beer and cigarettes. Our bedroom is even worse. Someone puked all over Eric’s bed and there are two used condoms on mine. At least none of the windows were broken this time. I start to clean my side of the room, then stop. I sit on my bed.
    Mr. Smythe will be getting up soon. It’s Sunday, so there’ll be waffles or french toast. He’ll fix a plate of bacon and eat it before Mrs. Smythe comes downstairs. He thinks she doesn’t know that he does this. She’ll get up around ten oreleven and won’t talk to anyone until she’s had about three coffees. She starts to wake up around one or two. They’ll argue about something. Whose turn to take out the garbage or do the laundry. They’ll read the paper.
    I crawl into bed. The aspirin isn’t working. I try to sleep but it really reeks in here. I have a biology test tomorrow. I forgot to bring the book back from their place. I lie there awake until our truck pulls into the driveway. Mom and Dad are fighting. They sound plastered. Mom is bitching about something. Dad is not saying anything. Doors slam.
    Mom comes in first and goes straight to bed. She doesn’t seem to notice the house is a mess. Dad comes in a lot slower.
    “What the—Eric!” he yells. “Eric!”
    I pretend to sleep. The door bangs open.
    “Eric, you little bastard,” Dad says, looking around. He shakes me. “Where the fuck is Eric?”
    His breath is lethal. You can tell he likes his rye straight.
    “How should I know?”
    He rips Eric’s amplifiers off the walls. He throws them down and gives them a good kick. He tips Eric’s bed over. Eric is smart. He won’t come home for a while. Dad will have cooled off by then and Eric can give him some money without Dad’s getting pissed off. I don’t move. I wait until he’s out of the room before I put on a sweater. I can hear him down in the basement chopping wood. It should be around eight by now. The RinkyDink will be open in an hour.
    When I go into the kitchen, Mom is there. She sees me and makes a shushing motion with her hands. She pulls out a bottle from behind the stove and sits down at the kitchen table.
    “You’re a good boy,” she says, giggling. “You’re a good boy. Help your old mother back to bed, hey.”
    “Sure,” I say, putting an arm around her. She stands, holding onto the bottle with one hand and me with the other. “This way, my lady.”
    “You making fun of me?” she says, her eyes going small. “You laughing at me?” Then she laughs and we go to their room. She flops onto the bed. She takes a long drink. “You’re fucking laughing at me, aren’t you?”
    “Mom, you’re paranoid. I was making a joke.”
    “Yeah, you’re really funny. A laugh a minute,” she says, giggling again. “Real comedian.”
    “Yeah, that’s me.”
    She throws the bottle at me. I duck. She rolls over and starts to cry. I cover her with the blanket and leave. The floor is sticky. Dad’s still chopping wood.