Free After Tuesday by Renee Ericson Page A

nausea associated with the movement of the car, or he’s simply passed out. I hope it’s the latter. I don’t want to deal with the smell of vomit for any amount of this car ride.
    Pulling into the driveway close to three in the morning, I find that all of my uncle’s guests are gone. I get out of the car, not even attempting to remove my dad. I know my limits, and in his current state, he can sleep just as easily on the backseat as on the bed. I head into the house to get a few items to make things more comfortable for him while he sleeps off another binge.
    Opening the back door of the car, I lay a blanket over him, considering the night is somewhat cool and his body might start to shiver and sweat from the alcohol. I cover    the floors with a trash bag and some old towels, just in case anything decides to come up.  Then, I place two bottles of water in plain view within his reach. I lift his head to cover as much of the seat as I can with another towel. Before heading back to my tent for the night, I crack all the windows for ventilation. That’s about all I can do for now. I know I’ll be up at dawn, so I can check on him then.
    Dragon and I head back to the tent. Trying to fall back asleep, I close my eyes and think about the look on my dad’s haggard face. I start wondering if he’s ever going to snap out of this or if this is a permanent condition. I miss him. He’s not who he used to be, so we aren’t who we used to be. I lost my mother so long ago that I never needed to mourn that relationship. This though, this thing with my dad, is like a long tortuous death. Laughing in my face on a daily basis, it taunts and teases me with small rays of hope before it reminds me of its opposing darkness.
    What a shitty lot. I have been going through the motions for the past year, and now, I realize he really is gone. He’ll never truly be who he once was. I hate this feeling. Moments like tonight always remind me that sometime since we moved here, my father turned into the child, and I became the responsible one.
    I sniffle and rub the moistness coming from my eyes. Dragon must sense my distress because he nudges my hand before licking my cheek.
    “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll be out of here soon. You can come, too, if you want.”
    I pull myself together a bit, trying to calm myself into sleep. Dragon cuddles closer, occasionally nudging my body into a sense of security. After a few lung-filling breaths, I fall sound asleep, looking forward to a day with new possibilities.
     

Chapter Eight
     
    The noise from the tent zipper opening wakes me from my sleep. The exhaustion I feel is telling me to keep my eyes shut, but somebody has a different idea. Dragon licks my nose, so I surrender and get up. I don’t care how much I love him; a wet tongue on the face is just gross when I’m not expecting it. Blinking my eyes, I open them and see it is morning.
    “Wakey, wakey, Pubies,” Cody chants with his face in the tent’s entry.
    “Hey,” I croak and then clear my throat. “What are you doing here?”
    “I stayed at my dad’s last night.”
    “Oh, what’s up?” I rake my hand across my eyes.
    “I took your dad in the house.”
    “Oh!” He’s caught my interest. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”
    “Yeah, yeah. So, do you want some breakfast?”
    Huh? Really? What is up with him? Narrowing my eyes, I look at him, trying to gauge his motive.
    “I got Mickey D’s!” He taunts, putting forth a bag of food.
    He’s got me. I love McDonald’s breakfast.
    “Thanks,” I mumble in gratitude.
    “Scoot over. I’m coming in.”
    He crawls inside, sitting next to Dragon and me, and pulls out two breakfast sandwiches and hash browns, handing one of each to me. We eat a few bites in silence, but I can tell something is on Cody’s mind.
    “So, what was up with Mr. Audi?” he asks through a mouthful of food.
    I look in his direction and roll my eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t let that one go.”