We Live in Water by Jess Walter Read Free Book Online Page B

glasses up on his nose. He smiles wearily at his dad, as if to say, Doubtful .
    “Can I go to Terry’s after dinner?” the Girl asks, and she adds, “To do homework?”
    “You bringing those tomatoes with you?”
    The Girl slops a bite in her mouth.
    Wayne stares at a bite of pork chop on his fork, at its perfect rind of pan-fried fat. “I’ve been thinking. About our vacation.”
    The kids all chew. Karen rolls her eyes and goes to get more rolls out of the oven.
    “British Columbia still good with everyone?” He looks from kid to kid to kid. Before they can answer, he says, “Because it’s not just Kelowna, you know. They got hot springs up there, and glacial lakes. And, uh, mountain goats.”
    The Little one pouts. “Wait. We’re not going to Flintstone Land anymore?”
    “No. Yeah. We’re still going. I just mean we can go other places too.”
    “But how many days are we gonna be in Flintstone Land?”
    “Vancouver would be cool.”
    “But at least two days, right?”
    “Look, I don’t know.”
    “There’s a natural history museum in Vancouver.”
    “Vancouver’s like a real city.”
    Wayne is sorry he brought it up. “Yeah, we’ll see. Just finish your dinner.”
    Karen comes back in and gives them all a warm roll and him a cold look. She says, under her breath, “How’d it go, Detective?”
    He glares at Karen, but the suspects don’t seem to have heard her.
    ON SUNDAY Wayne goes to the refrigerator. He gets two Lucky Lagers, puts them in the narrow closet, on the floor behind his four pairs of coveralls, which are hung behind his shirts. Then he opens the bathroom window. He goes back into his bedroom and grabs a clean set of coveralls from the closet. Glances down at the jar, makes sure the handle is straight up at midnight, and that it’s precisely in its carpet indentation. He pulls the coveralls on over his jeans, up to his waist, the way he wears them when he’s going to work. He starts down the hall.
    He taps on the Girl’s door, opens it and looks in. She’s sitting cross-legged on her floor in front of her stereo. She sees him and takes off her headphones. “You gotta listen to this, Dad.”
    He comes in and puts the headphones on. It sounds just like all the other shit she listens to.
    “Isn’t that cool?”
    Christ. “It’s great,” he says. He hands back the headphones.
    “I thought you’d like it,” the Girl says. “See, all my music isn’t stupid.”
    “Hey,” he says. “Your mom’s helping Grandma Lil today and I got called in to work. You watch the boys a while?”
    “Sure,” she says, and puts the headphones back on. He leaves her door open.
    The boys are playing army men. One takes the little green army, the other the little beige army. They spread the little plastic men on the floor across from each other and sit behind their armies throwing Legos at the other guy’s army. First one to knock over all the other guy’s army men wins. Moron game. They’ll play this for hours, Karen finding the little plastic army men everywhere, behind couch cushions, in the laundry, under the table.
    “Who’s fighting?”
    “I’m the Viet Cong,” the Middle one says. “If you look at it a certain way, they’re kind of like the American Revolutionaries.”
    Great. Middle one’s a commie.
    The Little one takes an army man out of his mouth. “I’m the Americans,” he says proudly.
    “Dad,” the Middle one says, “you were in the navy after Korea but before Vietnam, right?”
    “Right,” Wayne says.
    “So you didn’t fight.”
    “No.”
    “I told you,” the Middle one tells the Little one.
    “But who were you versus?” the Little one asks.
    “You ain’t always versus someone. We just toured around the Pacific.”
    “Like a police car on patrol,” Middle one says.
    “Something like that.”
    “Huh,” says Little one, and he puts the army man back in his mouth.
    “Well, I’m headed in to work,” Wayne says. “Your sister’s in charge.”