Backyard Dragons Read Online Free PDF Page B

grace and largesse of her parents, Jack and Tammy, and had nothing. All this furniture had come from a trip around town in Jack’s pickup truck, snatching up what college students had discarded.
    That whole evening had been awful and strange enough for his memory of it to remain clear.
    ~*~

    Spaghetti sauce simmered on the stove, waiting for Marie to wake up from her nap with Lisa. Justin sat at the kitchen table, rushing through the last of his homework. Knocking at the front door interrupted him as he scribbled answers to essay questions about the Cold War. He answered the door with his pen still in hand and froze at who he found there.
    “Boy.” Dwight Evans, Justin’s father, stood on the front stoop, his hands tucked into his dirty jeans pockets. He stood two inches taller than Justin, with broader shoulders and thicker limbs. Sometime in the past week or two he’d shaved his graying brown beard, but not more recently than that. His worn flannel shirt hung open to show his dingy white t-shirt underneath. Fresh streaks of mud and filth stained his clothes. He must have come straight from his job as a garbage collector.
    Justin stared with no idea how to react. He thought he’d made it clear when he left that he didn’t want to see the man again. “How did you get this address?”
    Dwight scowled. “That any way to greet your old man?”
    Wild ideas about punching him flitted through Justin’s head. Instinct born of living under this man’s control for most of his life made him recoil from the idea. “What do you want?”
    Dwight shrugged and looked around, not meeting his son’s gaze. “Are you going to invite me inside?” His words slurred a tiny bit, like they always did.
    Before he realized what he’d done, Justin stood aside to let Dwight in. He knew he should’ve slammed the door in the man’s face, but thought of it too late. Dwight stepped into the mud room and walked into the kitchen without bothering to take off his muddy work boots. As his father passed, Justin thought he smelled bourbon, Dwight’s favorite drink.
    “Nice little place.” Dwight pressed two fingers on the table, causing it to wobble. “Suits you.”
    Eager to keep him away from Marie and Lisa, Justin stepped between Dwight and the rest of the cottage. “Why are you here?”
    Dwight shrugged as he scanned the room. “Heard I have a grandkid. Thought I’d come meet her. Is that dinner almost ready? Smells good. Guess you picked a decent wife.” He took a step to bypass Justin.
    Justin shifted to bar his passage, trying not to show how much his hands shook. Getting out of his father’s house had been hard. He’d managed it on his own, though, getting himself into foster care at fifteen. Things hadn’t actually gotten better until he met Marie. He thought he’d never have to see Dwight again. Yet here he stood, somehow magically knowing about Lisa’s birth.
    “I don’t know how you found out about the baby,” Justin said, “but I think you should go.”
    “That so? Always did think you were better than me, didn’t you?” Dwight raised his hand.
    Justin flinched, wishing he could run to the bedroom to get his sword. “I—I am better than you.”
    Dwight balled his hand into a fist, his mouth twisting into a snarl.
    “Who’s this?” Marie walked into the room, her platinum blonde hair floating around her head like a halo. Her loose pajamas didn’t hide what remained of her belly from the birth five weeks ago.
    Justin glanced at her. “No one. He’s just—”
    Dwight let his fist fly, hitting Justin in the gut hard enough to make him double over. “Don’t you dismiss me, boy.”
    Marie shrieked and ran to Justin, trying to help him and cower away from Dwight at the same time. Before Justin could recover, Dwight belted him across the face.
    “Stop it!” Marie held onto Justin, keeping him on his feet when he otherwise would’ve fallen.
    Dwight held up his hand, threatening to slap Marie. Knocking on the