Keeping the Tarnished by Bradon Nave Read Free Book Online

like a hunted animal. Relaxation was only a word to Johnny. Every single day survival was tested in some fashion or another.
    He craved something other than chicken noodle soup. He wanted something of substance, something sweet, like cake. Chicken noodle soup was often the only thing he had to eat in the house. When school was in session, he devoured everything the cooks piled on his tray. He pretended not to notice, as did several of his classmates, as the lunch ladies piled just a little bit more on his plate.
    As he raised another cluster of noodles to his open mouth, a glimmer of light shimmered through the kitchen window. He dropped the noodles back on the paper plate as his heart raced. He hadn’t let his guard down, how did this vehicle approach without any notice? Perhaps he still had time to flee the kitchen. Just then, he heard the truck door slam shut. There was no doubting it was the sound of his father’s truck. He didn’t have time. He had been foolish and left the can opener out next to the empty dented can of chicken noodle soup. He sat, horrified of what was going to happen. He stared at his half-eaten plate of soup. The paper plate was saturated in broth and had basically lost most of its integrity.
    The door in the kitchen opened up to the front yard. Johnny knew that on the other side, walking to the door that very minute was an inescapable source of pain. He sat silently, attempting to remain collected in an almost trance-like state as the door opened. His father’s foot hit the floor hard, as did the two steps following the first. Johnny continued to look only at the plate. He could tell by his father’s steps that the man was intoxicated.
    When his father drank, there was a window of violence. From the time the man began to become intoxicated, to the time he passed out in his room, was the time Johnny dreaded the most. Sometimes, however, the man would drink so much so fast that this window of time shortened dramatically, and the man would simply pass out. Johnny hoped that tonight was one of those nights. Perhaps the man’s peripheral vision was so impaired that he would ignore Johnny altogether and head down the hall to his room.
    “What the fuck do we have here?” His drunken father’s voice was horrifying. He wasn’t going to pass out. He was drunk, mad, and Johnny had just handed him a reason for reprimand.
    Johnny’s hands were shaking as he watched the boots approach him from the corner of his eye. He knew what was coming, yet continued to avoid eye contact with his father. “I sure did thought I smelt of me a little faggot,” the man said under a drunken breath, “and this little faggot is basically trespassing.” The man’s words penetrated in a cold, deep voice. “What you doin’ in here, boy?” the man asked as he used the back of a kitchen chair for balance and raised his muddy boot. Johnny knew he would soon be kicked in the head or face. There was nothing he could say to prevent it. He also knew if he said nothing, it would only anger his father more.
    He swallowed hard and answered. “I-I’m sorry. I was hungry. I’m just really hungry.”
     
    “Dude, for real. I’m about to get us some breakfast,” said Jared as Johnny shot up in bed and used his feet to propel himself to the other side, next to the wall. He looked at Jared in total confusion. He knew he had just been with his father. He remembered Jared vaguely, but the fact that he was not in front of his father was completely confusing to the young man. He continued to stare at Jared as his heartbeat resounded in his throat.
    “Johnny, it’s okay. I think you were probably having a bad dream. No need to apologize, man. I’m pretty hungry too.” Jared was wearing old blue jeans and a torn red t-shirt, with steel-toed boots and an old Budweiser ball cap.
    Johnny continued watching him. The room was completely lit, the sun was up, and he imagined it to be at least eight in the morning.
    Jared took a hesitant