Mepham High School by Edgar L. Biamonte

Author:Edgar L. Biamonte
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LitFire Publishing LLC
Published: 2019-06-05T06:53:24+00:00

Chapter 41

Several nights later, Sal asked his father if he could borrow the car Saturday morning to drive to Jones Beach with his acquaintances, and held his breath.

Frowning, Frank looked up from his plate of fried flounder, green beans, and a baked potato. “Again?” he protested. Discounting trips to Merrick to buy groceries, he had only giving him permission to drive to Walt’s house to play poker on occasion, but never that far.

Separating a piece of flounder with his fork, Sal ordered himself quiet.

Loretta’s head was resting in her cupped hand elbowed to the table. “Who’s going?”

Swallowing, Sal barely tasted the flounder. “Me and Stan.”

“You mean I have to walk to the station? I’m doing a recording Saturday,” he complained, despite knowing that Sal always left it at the station for him after using it.

You can borrow my bike, Sal chirped to himself, since teasing either parent was still forbidden. Picturing his father smoking a cigar and holding a flute while pedaling up Main Street, he almost cracked up. “Uh, I’ll leave it at the station after I come home. What time will you be home? he almost asked as if they had a good relationship.

Frank swallowed a mouthful of fish. “Oh? That’s very kind of you.”

Sal smirked.

“But why should I? What do you ever do for me?”

Caught off balance, though Sal remembered washing the windows from the outside, he could only remember Loretta scolding him for leaving streaks. Forget about that, he told himself. About to mention that he mowed the lawn, anticipating Dad claiming that he paid him for doing it, he kept still.

“Oh, Frank,” Loretta protested.

“What do you mean, ‘Oh, Frank’?”

“It’s better than him hitchhiking. You never know who’s going to pick him up.”

You can say that again, Sal thought. You mean you couldn’t have protected yourself against creepo had he tried anything? he suddenly realized. With him at the wheel? Come on.

Frank sliced another piece of flounder. “Why does he have to go to the beach? He gets fired from a job for fooling around, just like he does in school. Now it’s going to be using the car all summer to go to the beach? I don’t think so.”

I won’t be goin’ all summer. I don’t even like swimmin’ that much, Sal concealed, watching Dad taking a sip of wine.

Frank lowered the glass. “He doesn’t do anything around here on his own. He barely takes care of the chickens because of that damn wrestling. Everything he does is hit-and-miss, and his grades are still lousy. He broke the sprinkler because he doesn’t have the patience to take care of it and forces everything. He’s always in a hurry to do something else,” he bombarded and paused to catch his breath. “Don’t force anything,” he scolded in a different tone.

Barely catching anything, Sal pictured the door he made for the chickens. Aware that he was handier with tools than his father and a much better carpenter, he almost smiled and barely caught himself. “I do things. I was just trying to fix the sprinkler.

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