Twice Retired Read Online Free PDF Page B

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betrayal he would not take part in, jeopardizing Philip’s
friendship and potentially dashing any hopes for the poor kid to
ever trust anybody in this life. Brianne was always abusive towards
Philip. Always- as if she had to preserve her reputation as the
coolest of the cool by picking on the prototype of the uncool make
and model. Everybody in school knew Brianne liked Kenny, no matter
who else she was seeing, but Kenny wouldn’t take part. Even if they
were voted the King and Queen of their grade eight graduation, he’d
dance with her and return to his date, whoever that would be. Boobs
or no boobs, Kenny had his beliefs, and he believed in friendship.
There was nothing else.
    Kenny retired to the disaster zone that
they called a kitchen and threw together a quick dinner for his
little sister. She’d probably spent the entire day alone in her
room drawing out another civilization on her comforter. In her
scaled down society, every little girl had a daddy and every mother
did mommy things like cook dinner and clean up every couple of
days- regular practices of Mrs. Gilbride before Mr. Gilbride took
his leave. There were no alcoholic Barbies with three-day old
stains on their nightshirts in Jenny’s plastic eco-system. They all
drank invisible tea and changed clothes twice a day.
    Kenny played with her for a little
while while she ate the chicken fingers and curly fries, but his
mind was floating around- from the cabin in the woods to Riverfront
Stadium and back. He took his little sister to the bathroom to
brush her teeth and then he retired to his room to eventually fell
asleep. His mother didn’t come in to apologize, and he didn’t
expect her to. She popped her head in to yell at him for falling
asleep with the light on. Rather than reaching six inches inside
the door to turn it off, she turned on her heels, screaming back at
him that he better brush his teeth. She couldn’t afford no
gawd-damm dentist.
    Kenny crawled off his bed, turned off
the light. Then he brushed his teeth- for his own reasons- and went
back to bed. He contemplated the morning. There were two possible
outcomes. His mother might tip the bottle straight through the
night, and evilly enforce the house-arrest she had issued when he
came home late (at seven-thirty) Or, if she managed to get a couple
hours sleep, and Kenny timed it right, she’d spit a brief, hollow
apology over her coffee mug and he’d hit the road to the
forest.
    When morning came, he couldn’t smell
the coffee brewing. It was nine o’clock and the television was on.
If she was up at this time and she wasn’t drinking coffee, that
meant she hadn’t been to bed. He faced a trial by a judge drowned
alive in gin sans tonic.
    He quietly got dressed, brushed his
teeth again, and rolled right out his bedroom window. His mom would
probably fall asleep during the Sunday morning cartoons and sleep
the entire day away. Kenny could most likely return in the evening
and do an Irish jig on her stomach without waking her up. By the
time she made it to his room late at night to remind him he was
grounded, his day outside would already be done.
    He walked to McDonalds and ate a quick
breakfast before collecting his friends. He went back to the
counter and bought a couple of Egg McMuffins for the guys. He
crammed them in his back pack and walked towards the forest. The
sun was bright and lively, the air crisp but not too cold. The old
man would probably be perfecting his slider when they got
there.
     
    He wasn’t. Webster was sound asleep in
a sitting position on the slashed leather sofa. There was a
blinding rectangle of sunlight encasing him from the waist up, but
he wasn’t even flinching his eyes. The three kids were less than
furtive in making their entrance- a herd of cattle wearing tap
shoes might have made less noise- but Webster didn’t open his eyes.
Catcalls and screaming didn’t wake him up. Kenny actually had to
shake him with some solid force in order to wake the