Free Flood by James Heneghan

learn how to cook so supper’s ready when you get home from work, and we’ll get a dog to watch things while we’re out. I know how to train dogs. It’ll be great, you’ll see.”
    Throughout this long speech and other speeches just like it, Vinny smiled happily and proudly at Andy, nodding his head in agreement at everything he said, speaking only to encourage him: “You’re the great talker, Andy, I can see that all right. The great little talker. And you’ve the splendid wee head on your shoulders.”
    They bought a toothbrush and toothpaste — Andy didn’t like the powder stuff in the packet — and a few other things at a corner store, including a bag of raisins.
    â€œWhat’s with the raisins?”
    â€œDidn’t you finish the last of them?”
    Vinny sold his last package of cigarettes in a pub called The Pink Elephant. As he came out the door, Andy said, “So if you don’t start your own little shop, will you give it up, the stale cigarette business?”
    â€œI will, I will.”
    â€œYou’ll give it up?”
    â€œDidn’t I say I would? You’d convince the Divil himself.”
    â€œYou promise?”
    â€œI promise.”
    â€œAnd you’ll find a job?” By now the rain had got through to his shirt.
    â€œAh, that’ll be the difficult part, right enough.”
    â€œYou’ll find one, I know you will.” Andy punched his father’s arm encouragingly as they headed home through the rain.
    Vinny stopped and they stood for a while watching the Mayo Rooms from the opposite side of the street.
    â€œWhat are we waiting for?” asked Andy.
    â€œJust making sure the coast is clear.”
    â€œThe police, you mean?”
    â€œHmmn.”
    â€œWhat if they’re inside, Father, waiting for you?”
    He shook his head. “Not likely.”
    â€œMaybe I should go first and make sure it’s safe.”
    â€œThere’s no necessity, Andy, I can tell how it is just by sniffing the air.” He raised his head and sniffed. “It’s all clear. Come on.”
    â€œCouldn’t you stay with one of your pals until the heat is off?” A part of Andy was quite astounded to hear himself talking like a crime movie. His father was having a peculiar effect on him.
    They entered by the front door. The place was quiet. No police. They climbed the stairs and stood outside the door listening. Nothing. They went inside. It was cold. Thewindow was still open and rain had blown in, wetting the stained curtains and the scarred linoleum floor. Vinny closed the window and then disappeared into the bedroom. Andy followed him in. Vinny was on his knees pulling cigarette cartons out from under the bed and stacking them on the mattress.
    â€œThe police might come back and find them,” said Andy. “Couldn’t we dump them in somebody’s garbage bin? You’re not going to sell them anymore, you promised, remember?”
    â€œDon’t worry. Leave it to me.” Vinny counted the cigarette cartons, then went into the kitchen, and Andy could hear him filling the kettle. Vinny called out to him, “I’ll take good care of you, Andy, you’ll see.”
    â€œYou’re the one who needs taking care of,” Andy muttered to himself.
    â€œTake off your wet things while I make us a cup of tea,” Vinny shouted from the kitchen, “and help yourself to a dry shirt of mine in the bedroom.”
    Andy did as he was told. His father’s shirt was too big, but not by so very much. Andy was hungry. “I’m hungry,” he told Vinny as he came in with the cups and teapot.
    â€œHungry?” Vinny looked surprised.
    â€œStarving.”
    â€œWait. I’ll be right back.”
    He was away only ten minutes, and brought back with him a box of sugared doughnuts, a dozen, assorted.
    â€œGreat,” said Andy when he saw them. “I love