Other Plans by Constance C. Greene Read Free Book Online

more light in them than most people’s. They were spooky eyes, he thought, and wished his were the same.
    â€œI could always hang a sign on myself that said ‘Poseidon,’” Keith had said, looking at him with contempt. He hadn’t recognized it then as contempt. It was only later, after he’d known Keith a while, that he knew contempt for what it was.
    â€œOn the other hand, I might go incognito. Let those dopes figure it out. I’d dye my long johns green and wear flippers and my mask. I bet I’d win a prize.”
    He’d been astonished by Keith’s ingenuity. “How would you walk with flippers on? Wouldn’t that be kind of hard? On the flippers, I mean.” Practical John. He had learned then, and later, that when Keith was involved with a plan, it didn’t do to fool around. Keith’s mind blanked out the laughs. He was a single-minded guy.
    â€œI’d take ’em off between stops. No prob.” Keith had an answer for everything.
    â€œWhen she isn’t in the bin,” Keith had continued, shutting off further discussion of Halloween, “she’s all right. She’s fun. She lets me do anything I want.”
    Bin? He ventured, “What bin is she in?”
    â€œThe loony bin, dope.” Keith’s voice indicated everyone knew about the bin except him. “When she’s on the sauce, she goes kind of loco and she goes away to dry out. Then, when she gets straightened out, she comes home. She’s fucked-up. My father is, too. They’re both fucked-up. It’s a wonder I’m as normal as I am.”
    With an effort, he kept his face expressionless. He imagined his mother’s face if she could hear the things Keith was saying, the language he was using, and he began to laugh. He couldn’t help himself.
    â€œWhat’s so funny?” Keith had turned on him, looking ferocious.
    â€œNothing. It’s just that I never heard anyone say their parents were fucked-up before.” He pronounced the word softly.
    Keith’s eyes worked their color change, and he said, “You ought to get around more.”
    Why? he wanted to ask, and didn’t. He almost said, “I’m only twelve,” but Keith was the same age, and look at him. Keith overwhelmed him. He was amazed and dazzled by their friendship, by the artistry of Keith’s plans, his mind, his ideas. His life-style. It was like being friends with a king. Everything Keith said and did was a revelation. Now that he knew they were fucked-up, he was anxious to meet Keith’s parents. To get a good look, to see what that meant. At the same time, he was terrified at the prospect. He’d never known anyone who was on the sauce or who had been in the loony bin. He wisely kept these things to himself, mostly to protect his parents from the knowledge that such things went on. And also to protect his friendship with Keith.
    Eventually, Keith had said it was all right for him to come home with him. “She’s back in AA,” Keith had said. “Once she gets back with those guys, she’s great. If she gets into trouble, you know, if she can’t handle things, she gives ’em a call and, day or night, they talk to her, come over and talk it out. They’ll talk all night, if that’s what she wants.” So one afternoon he’d gone home with Keith. He was very nervous, not sure how he should act when he met Keith’s mother. Should he shake her hand and pretend not to notice she was fucked-up? Should he say “Pleased to meet you,” or should he just keep his hands in his pockets and smile and say nothing? There was no one he could ask.
    But it was all right. She was waiting at the door. “How are you, John? I’m glad to meet you,” she said, as if she meant it. “Keith’s told me about you. Come in.” The place smelled of ammonia and floor polish. A vacuum cleaner stood in the living