Road Rash by Mark Huntley Parsons Read Free Book Online Page B

sure where you were, so I gave him your cell number.”
    “Thanks. It was a guy named Glenn. They needed a drummer tonight.”
    “That’s what he said. So what happened?”
    I sure wasn’t about to tell him that their regular drummer was too drunk or drugged to make the gig. That groove would definitely
not
be smooth.… “Not sure, but it doesn’t really matter. I had my phone off in the movie, so I missed his call.”
    “I know your phone was off, because I tried to call you, too. More than once.” He took in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Look, Zach. I know it’s been hard since your friends found another drummer. And to tell the truth, I think that stinks. But school’s almost out and you have to do something.”
    “I know.”
    “Good, because you start at Johnson’s Yard Supply on Saturday. At seven a.m.”
    Boom …
Sometimes the biggest bombs don’t make any noise falling. “But Dad, I never even talked to him. I haven’t filled out an application or anything.”
    “I know. But Jerry called me over the weekend and asked if you were still interested. One of his guys quit and he needs someone right away.”
    No doubt he could tell from my expression that I wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of working at a yard-supply place all summer.
    “Hey, you should be glad—I told him you had finals and couldn’t start until Saturday.”
    I just hung my head.
“Great …”
    “Look, I know this isn’t exactly how you planned to spend your summer, but opportunities like this don’t just fall into your lap every day. Think of the money you’ll make. You could save for a car, or maybe college, or—”
    “Dad,” I interrupted. “I appreciate you trying to get me a job. Really.” And that wasn’t complete fiction. I did. In a theoretical way. Sort of. “And yeah, I could use the money. But I would rather make it by playing music than hauling sacks of fertilizer out to old ladies’ cars.” By like a thousand times.
    “Well, like it or not, I don’t think the first option’s available to you right now. And you’re
not
doing nothing all summer. So be ready to start at Johnson’s first thing Saturday morning.”
    Maybe it was a good thing I didn’t hook up with Shannon after all, because there was no getting around it—I was quickly going from Zach Ryan, Rock Drummer to Zach Ryan, Manure Boy.

8
“Should I Stay or Should I Go?”
    Bzzzzzzzzzzz!
God, already? I rolled over and looked at my alarm clock: 6:00. As in a.m. On a Saturday. On the first day of summer vacation. That’s just
wrong.…
    The last few days of school had gone by fast. Nothing but study-test-study-rinse-repeat. And with the way things were, it wasn’t like I even cared about summer. I hummed a bastardized version of that K’s Choice song, “Something’s Wrong.”
If you can’t look forward to summer … something’s wrong. If your whole world is a bummer … something’s wrong
.
    “Zach …
Zaaaaach …
Are you up? Breakfast is ready!” It was my mom. How could someone be so cheerful at six in the morning? Well, if you weren’t going off to become Manure Boy, I guess I could see it.
    I pulled on my jeans and a faded black Ramones T-shirt, laced up my kicks, and headed downstairs to the kitchen. There was my mom, scrambling eggs and burning toast.
    “Wow. You don’t have to do all this. I could have grabbed a bowl of cereal.”
    “I know. But it’s your first day of work, and I wanted you to get a good start.”
    “Thanks. Is Dad up yet?”
    On cue he walked into the kitchen. “Hey, big guy—how’s it going?”
    “Fine.”
I guess
. I tried to act reasonably happy, because I knew he thought he’d done me a huge favor by getting me this stupid job. But what I really wanted was to go back to bed for three or four hours, then maybe get up and play my drums or go shoot some baskets or cruise downtown on my bike.
    “You going like that?” he asked.
    No, I’m changing into my suit and tie as soon