Creeps by Darren Hynes Read Free Book Online Page A

oldest is shouting something while pointing to her phone.
    Then Marjorie’s in the doorway and she steps out onto the porch and she’s got her hand over her mouth. A woman cop’s beside her, hat in one hand and a little notebook in the other, k.d. lang haircut and fit looking. The officer puts her hat back on and closes her notebook and says something, which makes Marjorie run back inside.
    â€œFirst her father, now this,” Miss Flynn says.
    The cop waits on the porch and stares at the sky and her breath is like steam from a kettle.
    Everyone’s pressed against the window at the Galbraiths’ now and it’s a wonder they haven’t burst through the glass. Flattened faces and palms and Mr. Galbraith’s belly button and stomach and nipples and someone should really tell him to put on a shirt.
    Marjorie comes back out and she’s got her jacket and she zips it up and closes the door and follows the cop to the back of the ambulance and the shorter and balder paramedic offers his hand and helps her inside. The cop closes the door andwalks back to her cruiser and gets in and Wayne notices her talking into a handheld radio.
    The ambulance backs out of the driveway and takes off up the street, its lights going but no sound, and then the police car is pulling out and following it and soon they’ve rounded the corner and are gone and it’s suddenly so quiet that Wayne thinks he might be all alone in the world, but then Miss Flynn reminds him he isn’t by saying, “Not all there, that woman.”
    Wayne turns around.
    â€œEver since her husband died.” Miss Flynn’s cigarette is nearly burned down to the butt, so she flicks it into the snow and says, “Some people never get over things.”
    No one in the window of the Galbraiths’ now, save for handprints and the outline of Mr. Galbraith’s gut.
    â€œDivorce is like death, they say,” goes Miss Flynn. Then, “Not for me. I was relieved.”
    Now he’s shovelling without any memory of having started and he’s thinking about what Miss Flynn said about some people never getting over things. After some time he hears her say,
    â€œGot a bone to pick with you.”
    He stops and looks at her.
    â€œDo you know what this cost?”
    â€œOh, sorry. You look good, Miss Flynn.”
    â€œWell, the swelling hasn’t completely gone down yet, but it’s nice of you to say all the same. Foolishness I’m sure, at my age, but what odds. It makes me feel better, doesn’t it?”
    Wayne looks back up the street towards Marjorie’s place, at the drawn curtains and all the lights out, and wonders if anyone ever lived there at all. When he turns back around, Miss Flynn is gone, as is the light on her porch. Then there’s a voice and it’s his father’s saying, “That’s all you’ve done?” And, “Should have done it myself.” The door slamming and that silence again and this time Wayne’s sure of it: he is alone in the world.

    Dear Marjorie,
    Is your mom going to live? I hope so or you’ll be an orphan. Do you have relatives you can stay with till you’re eighteen?
    Did you see me gawking? Dad said it’s nobody’s business but Mom said, What, we’re supposed to pretend the woman wasn’t taken away in front of the whole street?
    Here’s me wanting to be taller and braver and more popular and I bet all you want is for your mom to be okay— Oh, hold on a sec someone’s knocking on my door—
    Â 
    â€œStill awake?” his mother says.
    â€œYeah.”
    The door opens and his mother pokes her head in. “You asked me to let you know if they came back and they have.”
    â€œYou sure?”
    â€œArm in arm up the porch steps, although I think it was more the young one making sure her mother didn’t fall.” His mom pauses. “Since when did you care about them up the