Parts & Labor by Mark Gimenez Read Free Book Online Page A

dismissed for Mom a while back; she was speeding because she
was late picking Maddy up from after-school. After my dad got deployed, I tried
to hire Andy to sue the government and make them stop the war, but he said,
"Dude, haven't you heard of the military-industrial complex?" I
hadn't. "Well," he said, "you might as well sue Mother Nature
to stop the sun coming up." I wasn't sure what that meant. He now stuck
a fist out at me and said, "How're you doing, little man?"
    We
fist-bumped.
    "I'm
good."
    "Keep
the faith, bro."
    I
wasn't sure what that meant either, but I said "Okay" and continued
my stroll up South Congress past the Hotel San José, the silver Airstream camper
in the parking lot where they sold crepes (not "creeps" like Coach
Slimes, but "crepes," which are like French enchiladas), and George playing
his guitar for tips next to Güero's Taco Bar. I crossed Elizabeth Street and
walked by Lucy in Disguise with Diamonds (a costume store with a front wall of
painted faces of famous people) and my favorite store, Uncommon Objects (a
secondhand shop with a metal sculpture of a cowboy riding a jackrabbit above
the marquee). When I got to the tattoo parlor— Body Art by Ramon —I put
my nose against the glass and cupped my face to block out the glare so I could
see in. I always liked to watch Ramon work. He was inking in a tattoo on a
girl's leg . She was bleeding. I thought I might hurl the Butterfinger
bar.
    "Whaddaya
say, Max?"
    A
scruffy looking old guy sitting on the stoop was talking to me; he was the kind
of person your mother would grab your arm and pull you away from if he
approached you on the street. He looked crazy, but he wasn't.
    "Hey,
Floyd T."
    Floyd
T.—no one knew what the T stood for—was the neighborhood homeless person. He
had blue eyes, red reading glasses, and no left leg below the knee. My dad said
Floyd T. had been an Army soldier, too, a hero in a war a long time ago. So I
always saluted him, which I did now. He saluted me back.
    "Pull up a piece of concrete and sit a spell with me and Rex."
    Rex
was Floyd T.'s dog. I sat on the stoop and petted Rex. He was a big German shepherd,
but he never bit me. He was a good dog. But he smelled bad. Or maybe it was
Floyd T., I was never sure. But I didn't care. I liked visiting with them
because Floyd T. didn't talk down to me like I was just a kid. He talked to me
just like I was a grownup, too, which I appreciated even if I didn't understand
everything he said, like that time I asked him why he was homeless, and he
said, "Because we lost my war."
    But
Floyd T. didn't seem like a loser to me. He seemed like a grandfather, only he
wasn't. (Dad said he had never been married or had children.) I never had a
grandfather. Both had died a long time ago.
    "No
bullies today?" Floyd T. said.
    "You
know about Vic and his gang?"
    "Anyone
comes and goes on the fifteen hundred block, I know about 'em."
    "They
didn't chase me today."
    "Why
not?"
    "They're
scared."
    "Of
what?"
    "Me.
I have superpowers."
    "Well,
that's handy."
    "Yep."
    Floyd
T. grunted. "Well, I don't know about superpowers, but as long as they
stay scared, that's all that matters."
    "Did
you get bullied when you were a kid?"
    "Can't
remember back that far."
    "My
dad said he fought his way out of South Boston."
    Floyd
T. smiled. A few of his teeth were missing, and the others were yellow.
    "I
bet he did. And I bet he won more fights than he lost."
    "I
got my mother's size."
    "And
her sweet soul."
    "What's
that mean?"
    "Means
you care about folks. Like old homeless soldiers."
    "I
miss him. My dad."
    Floyd
T. patted my back. "I know you do. I miss him, too."
    My
dad and Floyd T. were good friends because they were both soldiers. Dad and I
would walk over here, and I'd go check out the used stuff in Uncommon Objects
while Dad and Floyd T. sat on the stoop and talked about their wars and other
man stuff. Dad said it was like having the man talks he had never had with his
own dad. He said