3 Ghosts of Our Fathers by Michael Richan Read Free Book Online Page A

been
swearing and yelling ever since he raised the bottle to his lips. He and Garth
had decided to play outside so Frank wouldn’t notice them. They instinctually
played quietly, knowing that drawing attention from Frank while he was drunk
was a bad idea. Neither he nor Garth had any food throughout the day, and Sean
was hoping he could sneak inside the kitchen and grab something while Frank
wasn’t paying attention, so he and Garth could eat.
    He tried to convince Garth to wait
in the backyard for him to return with something, but Garth said he was
starving and would go with him to help carry out more food. Sean didn’t think
having his five-year-old brother in tow would help make his task any easier,
but Garth was insistent.
    They crept up the cement steps
that led to the kitchen door. They both knew how to get the kitchen door open
without a sound. Sean could hear Frank swearing and cussing elsewhere in the
house; it sounded like he was lying in his bedroom, which was a comfortable
distance from the kitchen.
    Sean lead the way, with Garth
quietly tip-toeing behind him. Sean knew the best food would be in the icebox.
He was after the bread, and Frank always kept it there. After carefully
avoiding the floorboards that he knew would creak, he tried to open the icebox
latch slowly so it wouldn’t make its normal clicking sound.
    Once he had the door open, inside
they both saw a heel of bread, about two inches thick. Sean turned to look at
Garth, who smiled back and nodded. This would be their prize if they could successfully
sneak it out of the house without Frank hearing them.
    Sean grabbed the chunk of bread
and handed it to Garth, then he shut the icebox door, going as slowly as he
could to avoid any noise. When he was done, they both turned to tip-toe back to
the kitchen door.
    “So you’re goddamn thieves now?”
Frank said from the doorway that lead to the living room. “Sneaking in here
like common thieves?”
    “We haven’t had anything to eat
today,” Sean said, pleading. He could see the bottle in Frank’s hand; it still
had a couple of inches of brown colored liquid inside, but enough was gone for
Sean to know he was arguing with the devil.
    “Oh, that’s right − you
gotta eat, I know that,” Frank said. He sat down in a kitchen chair next to the
kitchen table, positioning the chair to face the boys.
    “Let’s see who wants it the most,”
Frank said. “Do you want it more than your brother?”
    Sean stared at Frank, unsure of
what he was asking. Garth held the bread to his chest a little more tightly. He
wanted to take a bite of it, but was afraid to do it in front of Frank.
    “Looks like your brother stole all
the dinner,” Frank said to him.
    “He’ll share some with me,” Sean
said.
    “No, he won’t,” Frank said. He
waved his hand at Garth. “Give me that, boy!”
    Garth knew better than to go
against Frank. He walked over to where Frank sat and placed the bread in
Frank’s hands. As he turned to walk back to Sean, Frank raised a foot and
kicked Garth squarely in the back. Sean saw Garth’s frame bend into an arc as
the foot made contact with him, the surprise and hurt spread across his face, and
then his body was propelled forward towards Sean. He caught him just before he
made contact with the kitchen cupboards. Garth began crying.
    “This bread,” Frank said, “is only
enough for one thief. Only one of you can have it. No sharing.”
    Sean felt the pit in his stomach
widen.
    “Who wants it?” Frank asked.
    Sean and Garth looked at each
other. They both weakly said “I do” at the same time.
    “The winner gets it,” Frank said
to them. “Fight him for it.” He took another long throat full of the booze. Both
boys stood in the kitchen, still. They weren’t sure they understood him.
    Frank looked at Garth. “Fight him
for it! You can’t both have it. Hit him. Give him a good punch. Beat him up,
and it’s yours.” Frank pulled a piece of the bread off and ate it.