Free After Tuesday by Renee Ericson

them to me when he got here.”
    “All right.” I sniff and rub my eyes again with the back of my hand. “So, do you need me to come get him?”
    “Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Ruby.”
    “Okay, I’ll be there soon,” I say, blowing out a lungful of air as I end the call.
    Looking at my phone, I see it’s just after two in the morning. Figures. It’s almost closing time for Ace’s. Wiggling out of my sleeping bag, I slip on my sneakers before I crawl out of the tent. Dragon follows close behind me as I head toward the street. With only a few cars left in the driveway, it looks like the party at Uncle Jas’s has died down. That’s a good sign.
    “You up for a little walk, Dragon?”
    He looks up at me and wags his tail.
    “Good ‘cause I could use the company.”
    Ace’s is only about a mile up the road. I could run there in less than six minutes, but hell, it’s two o’freakin’ clock in the flipping morning. At this hour, it’s gonna be more of a pedestrian pace.
    About fifteen minutes later, I arrive at the bar. It’s a crappy hole-in-the-wall type of place tucked away next to an empty lot and a field that hasn’t been mowed in a decade. The façade has no windows, and its paint is peeling. I look around the dirt lot and spot my dad’s car near three others.
    Since it’s close to closing time, I’m not too worried about any of the locals making a stink about a minor entering the bar. Who am I kidding? That’s what “normal” people would do. At this place, I’m usually offered a drink with a wink and a smile.
    Stepping inside the door with Dragon by my side, I notice the beer-and-feet stench immediately. I wonder if there’s a no-bath requirement to enter. If that’s the case, I probably qualify for entry since I was basically pulled out of bed to be here. Walking over to the bar area, Benji nods at me as I approach, but then he gives me a sour look when he sees Dragon.
    “What’s up with the mutt?” Benji asks.
    “He’s with me. We’re outta here in a minute anyhow. So, where is he?” C’mon, Benj, we’re beyond small talk.
    After handing me the keys to my dad’s car, Benji points to a booth behind me. I turn around and see my dad with his head on the table, spinning a bottle next to his face. I walk in his direction as I would carefully approach an unfamiliar animal. Dragon follows suit, but he seems to assess that the situation is okay as he begins to lick my dad’s elbow.
    “Hey, Dad,” I whisper, placing my hand on his arm, “I’m here to take you home.”
    I stare at him, hoping he’ll start to move so we can get out of this hellhole. His eyes look up at me while his fingers continue to flip the bottle round and round.
    “Do you think you can walk to the car?” I shake his shoulder. “Dad?”
    Well, this is going nowhere.
    “Hey, Benji!” I yell over my shoulder. “You think you can give me a hand?”
    Benji walks around the bar, standing at the end of the booth where my dad is basically lying on the table.
    “Hey, Jerry, time to go. Ruby’s here,” he says to my dad.
    My dad refuses to budge.
    “All right, let’s go,” Benji says. Reaching for my dad’s arm, he swings it around his neck.
    My dad doesn’t put up a fight. He mumbles some unintelligible things, but other than that, he says nothing. I’ll never understand why Benji lets him get like this.
    After I follow Benji out the door while he’s helping my dad to the car, I open the back driver’s side door. He eases my dad in as gently as possible, which is saying a lot when handling a 180-pound limp noodle. My back hurts just watching the maneuver.
    “All right, girlie,” Benji says as he shuts the car door.
    “Yep, see ya, Benji,” I say, opening the driver’s side door. “C’mon, Dragon. Let’s go.”
    My dad doesn’t make a sound on the way back to our house. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I can see his chest rise and fall while his eyes are closed. He’s either fighting off