Free Father's Day by Simon van Booy Page A

online.
    Wanda was startled by his openness and asked exactly what was so lucrative.
    â€œDoesn’t matter,” Jason told her. “You can sell anything on eBay. Make a huge profit too—if there’s a buyer.” He described how he spent three days a week trawling the discount stores, outlets, and thrift stores across Long Island in search of things to sell. He told her that he’d found stuff you couldn’t get in other parts of the country or the world: heavy metal concert T-shirts, rare New York City souvenirs, vintage jeans that people in Japan would pay three hundred dollars to own. Some things were collectible, he told her—like Mickey Mouse and Coca-Cola—you just had to keep aneye out. Nothing too heavy, of course, because high shipping charges would slow the bidding.
    Jason said he always had ten or fifteen things for sale at one time, but that eBay and PayPal took a cut, which had to be accounted for in the markup.
    Wanda ventured to ask if he had anything put aside for a rainy day.
    â€œFollow me,” Jason said, getting up and leading them into the garage.
    Spread out on a gray blanket were random pieces of metal that Jason said were the beginning of a custom motorcycle he was building from scratch. It was slow going, he told them—the right parts had to come up for sale online when he could afford them.
    â€œThis is my rainy day, Wanda,” he said. “Once it’s built, it’ll be worth at least six grand—maybe seven if the paint job is decent.”
    Taped to the walls were posters of women in bikinis, leaning their bodies over gleaming bikes. The trash hadn’t been emptied in weeks, and flies made slow circles in the stale darkness.
    â€œYou like motorcycles, kid?” Jason asked Harvey.
    She thought about it, then nodded.
    â€œWell, I think they’re dangerous,” Wanda told them, stepping back into the kitchen. “So the two of you are together on that one.”
    Harvey asked if Jason would take her for a ride when it was done.
    â€œOh, sure, kid,” he said. “But chances are you’ll be in Florida by then.”
    Wanda wanted to see the rest of the house and asked if Jason had a lady friend. He said he liked things his own way, so it would probably be hard for anyone to put up with that. Wanda laughed and said everyone was like that—but at least he came clean. Then she asked if Jason kept a gun in the house.
    When they were back on the couch, Wanda tried to get Harvey in the conversation, but she just picked at the loose threads on her doll’s shirt, nodding for yes and shrugging her shoulders for no.
    Before leaving, Wanda told Jason to have a think about everything.
    â€œLook,” Jason said when Harvey was in the car and looking at them through the back window, “I don’t cook, I go out when I feel like it, I got no high school diploma, I live in a shitty house in a shitty neighborhood with neighbors who can hardly speak English—so that’s probably not the best for a kid. Plus, I go through a pack of cigarettes a day, and sometimes I don’t even have enough to pay for that.”
    Wanda smiled. “All true. But just have a think. Look inside .”
    Jason didn’t know what she meant, but as she was on the threshold of the door ready to leave, he said he would.
    H E TRULY THOUGHT that was the last time he would ever see them, but a few days later, Wanda telephoned.
    â€œTo be honest,” he told her, “I haven’t given anything much thought.”
    She seemed disappointed and didn’t speak for a few moments.
    After she hung up, Jason thought about that pizza they’deaten during her last visit, and looked in the garbage for the paper menu that was taped to the box. After calling in the order, he took a few hits off a joint, then poured himself a glass of Mountain Dew and quartered a jalapeño pepper. When the pizza came, he peeled a slice from under the