Big Red Tiquila - Rick Riordan Read Online Free PDF Page B

me I had to ignore the nausea and the
instinct to double over in order to avoid a haymaker swing that
would’ve caught me in the head.
    I slid down under the punch on my left leg, a little
awkwardly, and used my right leg to knock Dan off his feet with a
sweep-kick. He didn’t know to roll, so he fell on his back pretty
hard.
    I got up and backed away. My gut felt like a piece of
sheet metal that was hardening as it cooled.
    Dan scrambled up and started toward me. I held up my
palms, offering a truce.
    "This is stupid, Dan, " I said.
    He tried one more punch but this time I was ready for
it. I stepped out of the way and let him punch air. After that he
just stood there for a minute, breathing heavily.
    "God damn it," he said. “You got no
right."
    He turned and started back toward his car. From the
way he walked, his lower back must’ve been in a lot of pain.
    The windows of his BMW were tinted almost black, so
it was only when Dan opened the door that I saw the older woman with
bright gold hair sitting in the passenger seat. Her face rested in
her left hand as if in total mortification. As the door slammed Dan
was growling to her: "Don’t start!"
    Then he drove over half the Rodriguezes’ front lawn
and over the curb getting back on the street. The BMW swerved slowly
down Acacia like a drunk shark. The Rodriguez brothers looked at me
and grinned, raising their beer cans in a salute.
    Lillian was in her bedroom, pretending to read.
    " Just a little man-to-man talk?" she asked
coldly. "Did you mark off your territory for him?"
    "Lillian—" I started. I stopped,
realizing I sounded like Dan had a few minutes before.
    She threw down her magazine. "I don’t like
being told to go to my room while the big fellas fight it out, Tres."
    "You’re right. I shou1d’ve let you handle
it."
    "You think I couldn’t have?"
    No answer would’ve worked, so I didn’t try one.
    She got up and looked out the window. Finally, she
walked over to me and put her arms around my waist. Her eyes were
still angry.
    “ Look, Tres, this hasn’t been a real great day
for me. I think I need a hot bath and a night alone with a book."
    "I love you, " I said.
    She kissed me as lightly as you’d kiss a Bible.
    “ I think we should talk more tomorrow," she
said quietly. "I don’t want any more surprises from my past."
    I closed the front door quietly on my way out.
    Back at home, I checked my newly installed answering
machine. Mother had called twice, upset that I hadn’t given her a
report yet on my first date with Lillian. Bob Langston had left a
cryptic message threatening me with bodily harm and legal action.
    I unwrapped the ceramic skeleton-driven car Lillian
had given me and put it down on the carpet in front of Robert
Johnson. He hissed at it, puffing up his tail as thick as a
raccoon’s, then walked backward into the closet, still staring at
the new monstrosity.
    Two days back home and I’d managed to mess up my
fragile relationship with Lillian, aggravate my mother, traumatize my
cat, and make at least three new enemies.
    "Just about par," I told myself.
    There was only one other thing I could possibly stir
up to make myself feel worse. I called directory assistance and asked
for Carl Kelley, retired deputy sheriff, my dead father’s best
friend.
 

    8
    “ I’ll be damned," he said. “I never
thought I’d hear from you again, son."
    Years of smoking hadn’t been kind to Carl Kelley’s
voice. Every word sounded like it was being scraped across a metal
file as it left his throat.
    Before I could tell him why I had called, he began a
long gravelly sentence without periods, telling me about all the
people he and my father had known who were now either dead, in the
hospital, or afflicted in their old age with ungrateful children. I
got the feeling Carl was living alone now and probably hadn’t
gotten a phone call in a long time. I let him talk.
    One of God’s little jokes: as soon as I had reached
Carl on the phone the TV