Blood Sports by Eden Robinson Read Free Book Online

tomorrow, you little punk!” Mike said, his face going heart-attack red.
    “Fuck you!” Skater Boy said.
    “Weird, huh?” Tom said, suddenly feeling nostalgic. “Five years ago, everyone was calling us the punks. Now we’re the grown-ups.”
    “That was never me,” Mike said, scowling.
    Tom grinned.
    “Hey, dickless wonder,” Skater Boy said, “yeah, I’m talking to you, Bauer! You gonna sic your psycho bitch on me?”
    “What?” Tom shouted, cupping his ear. “Did you say you’re a Celine fan, too?”
    Skater Boy pointed at him. “You’re dead, motherfucker! Do you hear me? You’re dead!”
    “She’s on tv tonight!” Tom said. “I’ll tape it for you!”
    “Faggot!”
    “What? You want to hear this song again?”
    “Go to hell.”
    “One more time for the Celine fan on the lawn!” Tom said.
    The skater boy’s friends nudged each other, having a chuckle among themselves.
    Skater Boy went rigid with rage, his voice lifting an octave. “You goof! You fucking goof!”
    “That’s the spirit! Sing along with Dion!”
    “Tad likes Di-on, Tad likes Di-on,” his friends teased.
    Tad chased his friends, who took off, howling.
    “Tad’s going to stomp you,” Mike said. “You know that, don’t you?”
    “He’s okay. He has no taste in music, but he’s okay.”

    They pushed the furniture from the centre of the room back into its usual position. Mike did most of the heavy lifting while Tom acted as guide. Finally, they pushed the couch in front of the TV and flopped down. Tom studied the walls. Lemon Zing had a Day-Glo-green undertone that hadn’t been noticeable in the swatches. Tom hoped the Zing mellowed when it cured. If it didn’t, they’d have to put up lots of pictures to tone it down, because he wasn’t painting again for a long, long time.
    Mike checked his watch. “I should head’er.”
    “Drop by for dinner one night,” Tom said. “We’re not fancy cooks, but the food’s hot and there’s lots of it.”
    “We’ll take you up on that. Greer hasn’t mastered anything beyond the stir-fry,” Mike said. “And I’m still working on KD .”
    Tom laughed.
    “But seriously,” Mike said. “If you need help with people bothering you, just call and –”
    “They’re good kids,” Tom said. “They’re just acting out.”
    Mike nodded, his eyes shifting around the room. “I hear your cousin’s getting day parole next week.”
    Tom stopped smiling. “How’d you hear about that?”
    Mike sighed. “I ran into your mom. She’s worried.”
    “Forget it, man. You know her deal better than anyone. She wants attention, that’s all.”
    “I remember Jeremy was a number-one freak show.”
    “You met him once,” Tom said.
    “After he moved in with you guys, you started showing up to school with bruises and burns.”
    “It was a bad year. Jer was the least of my problems.”
    “Bad in what way? Illegal bad or personal bad?” Mike said.
    “Jer was an asshole,” Tom said. “But he was there for us when no one else could be bothered. I owe him a lot. He and Mom are feuding. I don’t want to play ref.”
    After a minute, Mike said, “Fair enough.”

    6 JULY 1998
    Paulie took the teddy bear off the fruit basket. “What was his name again?”
    “Mike McConnell.”
    “Old boyfriend?”
    “Just a friend.”
    “Are you sure?” She held the bear up. “I think he’s sweet on you.”
    “Sorry to disappoint you, hon, but Mike is so straight he squeaks.”
    “And here I was all ready to be jealous.”
    Paulie handed the bear to Mel, who was sitting on the floor. She chewed its ear for a minute then tossed it aside and scooted for the tarps they’d piled by the door. Paulie followed her, lifting the tarps out of reach. Mel motored around the furniture, interested in the new arrangement.
    “Well? What did Squeaky want?”
    “He wanted to catch up.”
    “I don’t remember him.”
    “He was my height back then. Scrawny. Enough attitude to lift-off the space