Fight Song by Joshua Mohr

Author:Joshua Mohr [Mohr, Joshua]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 9781593765088
Google: Hy-BMAEACAAJ
Amazon: 1593765088
Barnesnoble: 1593765088
Goodreads: 15814976
Publisher: Soft Skull Press
Published: 2013-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Plucking and tightening

Half an hour later, Coffen arrives at the office with a bottle of rum, ready to return the favor and get Ace nice and buzzed. But that plan won’t work because Ace has company. Currently, Coffen’s wedged in a cubicle near his work’s kitchen, eavesdropping as Ace talks to a boy who looks about Margot’s age. Who is this mysterious lad who’s shown up with the tattooed janitor? Well, as Coffen has learned from his gutless spying, the boy happens to be the son of Ace’s girlfriend. Apparently, Ace normally lives with his girlfriend and her son. The janitor has been sleeping at the office this week since she told him to “poop or get off the pot” regarding the likelihood of a marriage proposal.

“That was how she phrased it to me, dude,” Ace says to the boy. “Your ma talks straight from the heart, and I love that about her. But she caught me off guard.”

Ace relates all this to the lad as they sit at the kitchen table, the very place where Coffen had plunked down and enjoyed Ace’s rum-soaked French toast. Ace has a guitar case across his lap, though he hasn’t opened it. Then he says to the boy, “I mean, I love your ma. You know that. You see us together. You see how I make her laugh, and once you become a man, you’ll realize there’s no greater feeling than making the woman you love laugh like crazy. I needed a few days to sort things out on my own, and now I clearly know what needs to be done.”

“Only a loser would sleep at his work,” the boy says.

“It’s a complex world, my man.”

“My real dad has a condo in Memphis.”

“Now that’s a town that loves its music.”

“My real dad owns his own plumbing business.”

“Can I talk to you honestly, big guy? Mano a mano?” Ace seems unfazed by the boy’s hostile words, which impresses Bob. It’s no easy feat staying calm in the face of being demeaned. Not always easy to turn the other cheek if you know the next smack is coming.

Speaking of the next smack, Ace rubs his bald head, which prompts the kid to say, “Why don’t you have any hair?”

“At your age, I had a coif.”

“Will my hair fall out when I’m old?”

“Did your gramps have a good set of hair?”

“Which one?”

“Your ma’s dad.”

The kid looks petrified. “He was bald!”

“Then you too shall cross this humiliating bridge.”

Coffen cracks the seal on the rum, holds it up to offer a commiserating cheers to the humiliating bridge of baldness, and has a slug.

Calm as can be, Ace opens the guitar case, pulls out the instrument, and lays it across his lap, loosening a string. He keeps talking, “I need to put some fresh strings on for the gig tonight. And on our way to the show, I’ll take you for some Korean barbecue before we meet up with your ma. Who knew effin’ Koreans could barbecue like kings, huh?”

The boy says, “I hate barbecue.

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