Dwelling by Thomas S. Flowers Read Free Book Online Page B

booze, Johnny-Boy,” Randall would say with an unabashed smile. Johnathan wished he could be more like Randall, more open about everything, but his own scars were still fresh, and it would take time to heal. Or so Randall Hampton, the crusty old Vietnam veteran from the VA hospital, would always tell him. “Give yourself time, Johnny-Boy.”
    “Hey babe, how’d you sleep?” called Karen from the kitchen, working on a new batch of eggs. Her question seemed automatic, something normally asked when people first wake up and stumble around like some undead creature from one of those Romero flicks… How’d you sleep? Like the dead, sweetie, like the dead.
    “Not bad,” Johnathan replied. “Felt like an idiot rolling out of bed last night, but other than that, just peachy.”
    Karen seemed to not have heard, humming something tranquil, calming. Johnathan loved when Karen sang or even when she just hummed. She always had a beautiful voice . He recalled a certain middle school talent show. Karen had just transitioned from grade school. Fresh meat on the big-kid campus. He remembered sitting in the auditorium, having just giggled himself into a stroke after a seventh grader with long black bangs recited a gloom and doom poem about death and sacrifice.
    What was his name? Whatever his name had been, Johnathan would never forget the image of the young boy, decked out in black garments and dark ringed makeup silhouetted against his pale moon skin. The boys of Suicide Squad sat together, snickering, struggling to hold in the chucks . Bobby was damn near out of his seat with a bad case of the chucks . Ricky had his hand held firmly to his mouth. Johnathan had whispered, “ Oh sweet baby Jesus, is this kid talking about his mommy or what?” Another burst of muffled laughter. The emo boy eventually finished, thank God , and out walked Maggie’s little sister, Karen.
    She was so frail looking back then. Not anymore though . Johnathan snuck a glance at his wife, admiring the curve on her hips. When Karen had walked on stage, this small seemingly mousy little girl, the girl they had voted not to allow in the club, Maggie had turned and given them the eye , the silent warning each and every one of them knew by heart. Her glare said, “You better not laugh, or so help me God!” They promised, of course, but didn’t need to. Once Karen started singing …my God… The entire auditorium fell into an ecstatic hush.
    Johnathan had always had a crush on Mags. She’d been the only girl he’d ever really talked to, despite knowing somehow that she would never really feel the same way about him. But he couldn’t help it. Maggie was a member of Suicide Squad , he saw her almost every day of the year. However, when Karen took the stage, everything changed. Her voice was a siren’s song . My heart bled upon her jagged rocks, and never returned .
    “Here, drink this, soldier.” Karen sat a steaming mug of coffee in front of Johnathan, jolting him from his thoughts. His chair rocked dangerously back. Tabitha giggled behind her box of cereal.
    “Where’d you go?” Karen asked bemused.
    “Just remembering something,” Johnathan said coyly.
    “What?” Karen sounded curious now.
    “A certain middle school talent show is all.” Johnathan winked.
    Karen thought for a moment. “Our middle school? At St. Francis? What made you think of that?” She stood there, one hand on her hip. Eyebrow poised in anticipation.
    “No reason,” Johnathan smiled, taking a sip from his mug.
    Karen returned the smile with bewilderment and went back to the kitchen. He watched her beautiful form with a sudden awareness of how damn lucky he really was to have her, to be a part of this family and have a daughter. Sure, she was a step-daughter, not his own flesh and blood, but Tabitha had accepted him without condition. He often wondered, though, would she have been as accepting were she older? Maybe. Maybe not. That mattered little. What really mattered was