I've Been Deader by Adam Sifre Read Free Book Online Page A

'97 which, aside from a ruined table shot at the Johnson wedding, resulted in almost no property damage or injury. I'm sure it was Mom's refusal to pay the dry cleaning bill or replacement cost of the wedding cake that stuck in Sarah Johnson's craw. She's the bride's mother and everyone knows she's been knocking boots with Foxwood these last several months.
 
So, a new pet is out and Mom is still beside herself. She just lies in bed all day and watches that stupid Fox News. Stories about people attacking each other, graves turning up empty, blah, blah, blah. What's next, a two-hour special on how Kazoo and his invisible aliens built the pyramids? Poor Mom won't even let me leave to get groceries. Looks like another meal of 'strange meat' sandwiches. I'm going crazy here.
 
Okay, that's it for now, Journal. I'll try to write more tomorrow, although if this keeps up my next entry may be in crayon and written on a rubber wall.
 
Ttyl
     
     

Chapter 11
     
    Visiting Day
     
    Car Ride
     
    Jon glared at the rearview mirror. He was in no mood today for this bullshit. His neck was killing him. Whenever he turned his head he was rewarded with sharp pains down his left shoulder and arm. On top of that he was sporting a thumping bad headache, and the cause of it slouched in the Toyota's back seat.
    In the world of headaches, Jeffrey was what was known as a carrier .
    The little stinker was multi-tasking by managing to look angry, bored and focused at the same time, all while keeping his eyes glued to his Nintendo DS. After a few seconds of blessed silence he sensed it was time to repeat his mantra.
    "Why do I have to go?" he whined. "We just went last week."
    Jon gripped the steering wheel a little harder and squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment, causing another small agony of pain to travel down his arm. He winced and relaxed his grip.
    Please let it be a heart attack .
    It was a two hour drive without traffic to Mother Mary's Nursing Home, God willing, and he did not want to spend it arguing with an eleven-year-old brat.
    Jon shot a glance at Lori. She remained oblivious to the outside world, her face buried in a People magazine. Jon grimaced. Like mother, like son. She wasn't bad looking for forty-something. She had beautiful thick black hair, and he didn't give a shit if it was natural or dyed. She had a nice rack, although without the help of Wonderbra they sagged a bit. She thought her skin was her best feature, but his vote went to her ass. He had to admit she had nice skin, though. It was pale and vampire-smooth.
    Between the pain in his neck and the pain in the ass, he felt extra raw today. They'd been on the road for less than twenty minutes and he already sported a coffee-stain on his new dress shirt, white of course - a result of bashing the damned Tom-Tom against the dashboard. It seemed every place Jon Tanner wanted to go in life was outside of satellite coverage.
    He rolled his shoulders trying to appease his neck, and turned on the radio hoping to drown out Jeffrey's relentless bitching. Neither his neck nor his stepson was having any of it.
    The hot story on the radio was the massacre in Corksville, a pissant little town somewhere in western Pennsylvania. Dozens murdered ... senseless violence similar to the incident in Comfort, Colorado ... blah, blah, blah. Jon switched to an Oldies R&R station. He didn't need some airwave dipshit telling him there were fucked up people in the world. On WRTH Freddie Mercury had come back from the dead, hallelujah! " All dead, all dead, but I should not grieve. In time it comes to everyone. .."
    "... Why do I have to go every week? I hate it there. Everyone smells like pee."
    Lori didn't bother looking up from her magazine.
    "It was almost two months ago, and you're going again because it's her birthday. She's eighty today and she wants to see her favorite grandson."
    Jon stole another glance at Lori and for just a second he had the strongest urge to lean over and smack her a