Spud by Patricia Orvis Read Free Book Online Page A

and I head to my room upstairs to gather supplies for
the rest of the afternoon and evening.
    “Ball gloves and cards, too?” he asks, yawning and stretching, eager to wake his
sluggish self for the fun evening ahead. “Might need to chill, play a little poker.
I’m gonna see if Tyson and Steve are free,” and he is about to jet back downstairs
to grab the phone.
    “Dude, why?” I ask after him, holding my glove. It’s my favorite piece of ball equipment,
signed by Carlton Fisk. But, I’m a bit tiffed. I can’t stand those pot-smoking friends
of his that live near Ned and the park, the one with the bridge.
    “Why not? The more the merrier. They ain’t so bad, Jack. Just had some hard times.
Give em a chance.” As he heads downstairs to call and invite his pals, I try to shake
off the situation and put my glove, hat, and some cards into my old track duffel
bag. I just, dunno, don’t really like those guys. Whatever. I have to be around him
though, at least I feel I have to, and kind of keep things safe, but I hate that
job. Babysitter. I don’t get why he likes them so much.
    He quickly reappears at my bedroom door, out of breath from running up the stairs.
“They’re gonna meet us at the bridge at five-thirty. So we gotta try to sneak a few
beverages, wink, wink, too. It’s so gonna rock.” Then he heads to piss, as I am flustered
and try not to respond so he doesn’t know I’m annoyed. Oh well, I’ll deal. We’ll
take a walk from Ned’s to the park to meet them, I suppose. Once the adults start
drinking, playing cards, and talking about the weather, they won’t even notice we’re
gone, really.

Chapter 5
    “It’ll be about seven, kids, when the steaks and brats are done, so go ahead and
do whatever. Don’t get over-heated,” Ma says as she gets the grill ready with Aunt
Sue, both swigging some fruity-looking wine coolers. There’s plenty of that around,
and Spud and I have loaded some Miller Lites into my duffel.
    Uncle Ned has a huge concrete patio out his back door, where the adults have settled
into folding chairs and three picnic tables. My dad has his car pulled up close,
playing some oldies tapes from the tape deck for everyone to hear. A little Beach
Boys and Herman’s Hermits, anyone? Little cousin kids inside are playing the Nintendo
system, after getting banished from outside by the adults when squirt guns got out
of hand, and Aunt Hettie got water in her eye. It was just water, but it made her
mascara run, and she threw a holy fit, so the young kids are inside now.
    Some of the ladies are in the kitchen, where the air conditioning is cranked, playing
cards and gossiping about whatever aunts and uncles didn’t show. Ned’s got a nice,
large yard, but it’s kinda hot for doing much out here. Nobody’s really even taking
advantage of the basketball hoop in the driveway. But, besides Mom and Aunt Sue,
there’s four other grills full of hamburgers, steaks, and hot dogs manned by a few
uncles, and there’s probably about ten adults out here altogether. Usually, the tables
would be covered with generic bags of wavy chips and Fritos, Oreos and chocolate
chip cookies, and all those fixings for the meat, like buns and ketchup and stuff,
but with the heat, the food is inside. I’m thinking that’s why some of my fat aunts
are inside, too. Hey, I can say that… I know their ways.
    “We’re gonna head to the park to play some ball,” I lie to Ma, hating that I have
to. “We’ll be back around chow time.”
    “Well, make sure, and take some water. Please don’t be late,” Ma says. She’s a bit
tipsy, must have had more than one wine cooler. With her small size, a little alcohol
is all it takes to get her buzzed.
    “Sure,” I say, and Spud and I grab our bag and head off to the park. It’s like a
five minute trek from Ned’s house. Convenient, I guess, but we’re both wearing shorts
and light-weight tee shirts, as it’s just too warm, and the town is kinda quiet,
everyone