Bright Lights, Dark Nights by Stephen Emond Read Free Book Online

the people in my classes and a few of my immediate neighbors.
    â€œI was, like, nine, ten, something like that, when my mom and pop split up,” Lester said. “So you were a teenager already. And then you end up here. I’d probably be quiet, too, if I was used to birds and hanging laundry by the fence and all that.”
    â€œIt’s really not like that,” I said. A loud chirp disrupted the proceedings, and a cop car rolled up alongside us. It was my dad. No pipe or elbow patches. Lester gave me a look, like, Here we go.
    â€œThis stuff always happens right near my home,” Lester said. “I’ll bet my mom drives by and thinks I’m up to something.”
    Dad and his partner, Ricky, stepped out of the car. “What’s up, homeys?” Dad asked. I cringed. That was the end of my friendship with Lester.
    â€œHi, Officer Wilcox,” they all deadpanned. “Hi, Officer Ortiz.”
    â€œEverything all right, Walter?” Dad asked. I nodded. Dad was checking out the scene, absorbing the details, but there was no story here. “Isn’t that your house back there, Lester? You walking off lunch or something?”
    â€œJust talking to my new friend, that’s all,” Lester said, calm and relaxed. He even threw a giant arm around me. It was like wearing a heavy neck brace.
    â€œYou know who your new friend is?” Dad asked him, pointing at me. “That’s my son, Walter. So you lay a finger on him, Lester, you deal directly with me. Understand?”
    â€œWally Wilcox ?” Lester said, eyebrows raised, and turned me around to get a better look at me. I apologized as best I could with just my eyes. “We didn’t even know he was a celebrity. We were just talking, honest. I like this kid.”
    â€œThat doesn’t make me feel much better,” Dad said.
    â€œHey, I wanted to ask you a question, actually,” Lester said to my dad. “We got this homeless dude camping out in our front yard dude. What do I do about that? My mom wants me to go yell at him, but I don’t know what this guy’s up to.”
    â€œYou can file a report,” Dad said.
    â€œAt the station?” Lester asked, and twisted his mouth. “Pass. I thought maybe you could just come take a look or something.”
    Dad nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
    â€œSo we’re all friends here. That’s great,” Ricky said. “Let’s keep it that way, yeah?”
    Dad pointed his thumb at the cruiser. “Walter, let’s get in the car.” I did a walk of shame to the car with my head down and ducked into the backseat.
    *   *   *
    In the car, Dad and Ricky were talking about bullies while we sat in traffic. The fact that I could have been home already if I’d finished walking popped into my mind.
    â€œDid you know Uncle Ricky used to be a bully?” Dad asked. Ricky’s not my actual uncle, but my parents had called him that since I was little. He turned to face Ricky, who was in the passenger seat. “You used to hang out with Adrian Ford—I hated that kid! He used to torture me in school.”
    â€œThat doesn’t make me a bully,” Ricky said. “Adrian was a nice guy, if you weren’t on his list.”
    â€œBut I was on his list!” Dad said. I’d seen high school photos of Dad, and heard some stories. It’s not like he was a nerd or anything. “And you were a bully by association.”
    â€œThat’s so not a thing,” Ricky said. “That’s like me being rich because I know a guy who owns a boat.”
    I took my cell out of my pocket after it buzzed. It was the cheapest phone on the family plan, but it did have a crappy version of the Internet.
    Ricky turned around in his seat to face me. “This guy Adrian used to pick on your dad, Walter. He ever tell you about Adrian?”
    â€œIt’s my story—let me tell