therealdrag0

T H E boy moved his chair so the smoke from the small portable grill wasn't in his face.
“How's high school?” his dad said.
“Good,” the boy said.
“Difficult?”
“No.”
“Challenging?”
The boy said, “No.”
His dad took a sip of beer. “Well, you need to talk to them about it then. Have them get you some new material.”
The boy sipped his soda. He gazed into the panorama of trees just yards away from the deck they sat on.
“Okay?” his dad insisted.
“Sure.”


T H E boy arrived late the night before.
His mom drove into the driveway. The boy grabbed his backpack and said good bye. Then she left. The boy approached the basement door and slid it open without knocking. He didn't see his dad. He went upstairs. His dad turned the TV off and got up.
“Hey Ed,” his dad said.
“Hey.”
They hugged each other. For the boy it was more of a formality.
It was late. “You can pull out the hide-a-bed if you want.” his dad said.
The boy set down his bag and took off the couch cushions.
“How were the roads?” his dad asked.
“They were clear enough. No dear.”

T H E next day his dad woke up early and worked around the house. The boy also woke up early, but he stayed in bed pretending he was asleep. His dad left him alone. It didn't take very much pretending before the boy fell back asleep. He slept and pretended his way through the morning. Nearing noon the boy got up and had some breakfast. He didn't see his dad around.
His dad came inside and saw that his son was awake.
“Let's do a little work.” his dad said. “Then we'll have some fun.”
He put his arm around his son's shoulder and squeezed him a side hug. The son patted him on the back.


O N the deck the boy took his shirt off. He draped it over the temporary 2x4 railing that his dad built around the deck. His dad went inside and got himself a soda.
He came out and saw his son shirtless. “Are you eating?”
“Yeah, I'm eating.”
“Look kinda skinny,” his dad said.
“This is a six-pack, man.” the boy said.
His dad rolled his head with a look that said he didn't agree. In the following silence the boy sat remembering.


Y E A R S ago the family had a boat. The Dad's friend owned a boat company. That's where they bought it. This day the dad wanted to take his boy out boating, some fishing too.
“Hurry up we need to get ready,” the dad said. “Get the anchor out of the garage, and the poles from the wall. Find the binoculars. Make sure the life vests are on the boat. And we need to make a lunch.”
The boy headed to the boat. The dad went and drove the Blue Chevy Blazer to the boat garage.
“Ed, I need a hand.”
The boy got out of the boat and helped his dad line up the trailer hitch. Then he went back to his job.
“Edward!”
His dad was hunched over the hitch cussing under his breath when the boy approached.
“Could you go get a pair of players?”
“Where?”
“There's a pair in the kitchen closet.”
The boy went up to the house and to the closet. He slid the large sliding door open. There were three small cardboard boxes on the middle shelf. The boy got his blue stool so he could reach. The contents of the boxes were fairly sorted. He looked through them all. Then he looked behind and around the boxes. Then he looked again in the box with like tools. No pliers.
“There aren't any there,” the boy said to his dad.
“Yes there are. Go look again.”
The boy went in and looked again. Nothing. He went downstairs to the workbench. No pliers. The boy went back to the kitchen. He wasn't going back empty handed. He grabbed a pair of pump pliers and headed back.
“This is all there is.” the boy said.
“No, thats not it, goddamn it! I saw a pair in there earlier,” the dad said. “I wanted to leave two hours ago. We're never going to get out of here!”
The dad got up and headed to the house to get the pliers. The boy followed.
“Do I have to do everything!?” the dad said.
He rummaged through the cardboard boxes. The boy stood a few feet away.
The dad looked over his shoulder. “Get your hands out of your pockets,” he said. “Do something useful!”
The boy took his hands out of his pockets, but he didn't know what to do.
“Fucking smart ass kids!” the dad shouted. “All I wanted to do was take you out in the boat. Show you a good time.”
The dad was red-faced. He headed towards the front door.
The boy knew he hadn't found the pliers. He laughed, he didn't know what else to do.
His dad turned around and shouted more. Smart ass. Your mom. Fishing. Do everything. Now I'm the ass hole.
Spit shot sporadically out of the dads mouth as he yelled. The boy was petrified. His eyes teared up. They were in the hallway between the kitchen and the front door. The dad put his hand on the boys neck and pushed him against the wall. The boy's eyes widened.
The dad him let go, then stomped out the door.
“Now I'm the asshole!” the dad said with anger and sarcasm. “It's all myfault.”


T H E boy glanced at his dad who got up to flip the burgers on the grill. He wanted to hear about his dad's time overseas.
Is that what took the fight out of him?
The boy didn't ask. Maybe later. They ate their burgers in silence.