In Dark Corners Read Online Free PDF

second or two then suddenly faded away, lost in the noise of the background; and simultaneously the neon outline flared up, like a light bulb before it blew, then grew dimmer, as Denny Rucker's features faded away into the gloom—
    Jesus, Ian swore silently, feeling a sense of growing panic. Abruptly, he turned away and stumbled clumsily through the crowd of unemployed shipyard workers, rubbing his eyes. What the fuck is going on? he asked himself, blinking repeatedly.
    At the door to the place he stopped, still not feeling too steady on his feet; and even though he knew there was something wrong with him, he couldn't resist a quick look back at the bar.
    The two stools where he and his friend had sat were empty now…
    "Ah, I'm just drunk," Ian finally whispered unconvincingly, forcing himself to leave, not giving in to the impulse to check the bathroom or the rest of the crowded room for his friend. "Too much Jack Daniels."

    ***

    Later that evening at home, Sadie asked Ian to go upstairs and tell Liam it was time for dinner.
    He trudged up the stairs, his legs still weak, feeling twice his age. He'd had a couple more drinks after getting home and listening to Sadie bitch about money—the lack of it, and he knew he was indeed three quarters in the bag. He would quit going down to Tug's during the day, Ian promised himself, as he reached his son's door. Yeah, time to ease up on the hard stuff. His friend Rucker was probably right. He pushed open the bedroom door and looked around, saying, "Hey, Bud." The room was empty, but the reading light at the desk was still on.
    Ian stepped over the clothes and junk on the floor, thinking Liam must be in the bathroom. At the desk, before turning off the light he glanced down at the closed book, wondering what his son was studying. Ian didn't think Liam really did any studying…at least his grades at the J.C. didn't reflect it. But it was a library book from the college: "Lord Jim." Ian recalled reading the book by Joseph Conrad, remembered that it'd been difficult going, wading through dense sentence construction; but he'd really enjoyed the story. He'd even taken Sadie to see the movie. Peter O'Toole had been great as Jim.
    As he lifted up the book it fell open, marked by a small hand mirror and some other stuff. That's strange junk to mark your place with, Ian thought, putting the book down carefully and staring at a razor blade and straw. He closed the book and flipped off the light.
    In the dark it hit him.
    "Hey, Pop, what are you doing sneaking around my room?" the voice asked from a figure highlighted in the doorway. It was Liam.
    Surprised, Ian stammered defensively, "I-I-I..."
    Liam remained in the doorway, hands on hips, his face shadowed.
    Finally Ian managed to explain in a heavily-slurred voice, "I just came in to get you for dinner."
    "Okay, let's go then."
    "No," Ian said, not moving, "we gotta talk."
    "Now?"
    Ian nodded, then gestured weakly at the book by Conrad. "I found your stuff. You know, the drug paraphernalia."
    "Ah, Pop," Liam began in a dismissive tone. "That straw and stuff?" he asked rhetorically. "Not mine," he added with a humorless chuckle. "I found them in that book, you know."
    It had been a long time, but Ian was getting really angry with his son. "Hey, look, Buddy. What do you think I am, huh? Just fell off a potato truck from Idaho?"
    They stood in silence for a long time, then the boy seemed to kind of straighten, growing taller in the doorway of light, as if gathering strength. "Naw, I don't think you're stupid, Pop. But this really isn't a big deal, you know."
    "Not a big deal?" Ian said stiffly. "You're snorting some kind of crap isn't a big deal. What the fuck is the matter with you, Liam? You're becoming a drug addict, a bum, a—"
    "Hey, what do you mean," the boy responded, a suggestion of irony in his tone, "coming off with that kinda shit? Look at you right now. You're about ready to fall down, man. You're drunk. In fact, that's about