Free The Taste of Penny by Jeff Parker

smoothing. The trajectory is clear. They will grow up and through the inflamed pink cuticle. They will have to. There is nowhere else to go. This will be painful, but the final result is something that Sam wants to admire. He wants to see that. For the time being at least, he thinks, I am holding in my hands eleven accomplishments.

An Evening of Jenga ®
    â€œ FOUNDATION,” VADIM SAID. “BASE,” HE SAID.
    â€œWhen it gets right down to it,” I said, “if you’re taking middles, you’re encumbering a piece is what you’re doing.”
    â€œOkay,” he said, “I’m glad you’re not an architect.”
    â€œVadim, allow me to enlighten your Russian ass: Skyscrapers sway. Did you know that skyscrapers sway, Vadim? Why is it do you think that skyscrapers sway? They sway because they are flexible, and flexible structures are less likely to fall.”
    â€œBad analogy. Jenga isn’t a building. It’s a game in which one must, on occasion, take middles.”
    â€œThat wasn’t an analogy,” Inna said. “That was a statement.”
    â€œI thought we were going somewhere for dessert, babe,” Liza said.
    â€œBad statement,” Vadim said.

    â€œLet’s just play one more game, the four of us. Come on. It’ll be fun.”
    â€œHand me that level,” Vadim said. He put it on the table beside the tower. “Satisfied?”
    â€œBring this side up another tick,” I said.
    Vadim tapped a wood chip under the table leg with a riveting hammer, and I said, “Stop. Perfecto.”
    â€œCheesecake,” Liza said, “is fun.”
    Vadim’s retarded brother Bipkus pounded on the wall, which is how he asks for more pizza. They keep Bipkus locked in his room whenever we’re over so he doesn’t creep everybody out.
    â€œHis Lowness calls,” Inna said but didn’t move. Then someone knocked on the front door and she scurried across the hardwood floor.
    â€œMehmet,” she said. “You came.”
    â€œI forgot to tell you about this guy,” Vadim said.
    Mehmet came in. He’s scrawny but with a hard face, the skin on his nose and cheeks the texture of bricks. Inna told him to grab some pizza. She dabbed grease off a piece then delivered it into Bipkus’s room. “Want your tip, lady?” Bipkus said to her. “Don’t eat yellow snow.”
    â€œYou’re welcome,” Inna said, “you turbid shit.”
    Vadim’s ears turned red and he said to Mehmet, “Hey, neighbor, come and get your Jenga on.”
    Â 
    â€œWhere are you from?” Liza asked Mehmet.
    â€œTurkey,” he said.
    â€œMehmet moved here after his family died,” Inna said.
    â€œMaybe you heard about this,” he said, “big earthquake.”
    â€œAn earthquake,” I said.

    â€œYes,” he said. “How do you play?”
    â€œWe’re trying to build this tower as high as we can,” I said. “The person who knocks it down loses.”
    â€œThe best one to start with,” Vadim said, “is this one right here.” He poked out the bottom middle. It skidded across the table and landed on the soft white carpet. I shook my head.
    â€œWhen was the earthquake?” Inna asked.
    â€œWe thought the whole world was crackling to pieces,” Mehmet said. “I was under a hot tub—I worked in a hot tub store. It was the only thing that saved me.”
    â€œA hot tub,” I said.
    Liza took a middle and smiled at me. Bipkus sang Kid Rock into his karaoke machine behind his closed bedroom door.
    Inna said, “Vadim.”
    â€œSorry guys,” Vadim said. “He’s bored.”
    â€œTell him to come out,” Liza said. She looked at Inna.
    â€œI’m so happy to have my own bathroom. It’s like I have my own life again,” Inna said. She bobbed a grape from the glass of sangria.
    â€œHey buddy,” Vadim