Free Kung Fu High School by Ryan Gattis

still hadn't heard anything about that damn city yet. Of course, it was then that I realized it really was just as cold inside as outside. I checked to make sure Cue closed the door behind us.
    "Gas got turned off," Dad said.
    "You'd think they'd at least turn it off on a Monday. Shit, I can't believe they pay a guy to go in to work on a Sunday and turn people's gas off" Cue moved over to the couch to sit next to Jimmy. "At least the electricity's still on." Yeah, and good thing we had an electric oven too.
    As the lone female in the house, it was my job to put away the groceries apparently. I used to think there wasn't much worse than two guys in the house that I had to clean up after, cook for, and medicate but no, three was worse, even if the third was cute, the fact that he was related made it just as bad. The whole thing just gave me empathy for Mom. I pulled down the oven door and turned it on to 450 degrees to get some heat in the house. When it got up to about 300 and the coils turned orange, I turned the fan on so it would blow the heat toward the living room.
    I pulled the box of noodles out of the first paper bag to put in the cabinet and then Jimmy was standing next to me. His left eye looked almost normal now. Buried in his discolored socket, it was no longer bloodshot, and the lid only sagged a little. Kind of like mine.
    "Need any help?" He gripped the pack of toilet paper football-style. Like he was going to fade back to pass.
    "Only if you feel up to it." I didn't put the generic macaroni and cheese back. That was for dinner.
    "Yeah."
    "Okay then, those go in the hall closet across from the bathroom." I turned to see that Cue was done watching television with Dad and was in the process of lining up the wood we'd put behind the couch. He'd also grabbed the paper bags when I was done with emptying them and he'd slit them up the side so he could lay them out flat underneath the wood but on top of the plastic. Then he started sanding.
    "Hey, Daniel-san, while you're at it, sand the floor." I'd put the frozen peas and jumbo-pack hot dogs on the counter too. They both needed to thaw anyway. Milk got set aside as well. We didn't have any butter.
    "Ah, Jen, you are about the funniest girl I know—so witty!" Cue plugged in the little electric sander, Dad's old one, circa 1982. It was red-orange and looked like one of the super bikes that left walls trailing behind them in
Tron,
but it worked and that was all that mattered.
    "Gee thanks, Cue Ball," I said.
    He didn't respond. He was already sanding down the first chunk of wood. It sounded like a squeaky electric razor being powered by a hamster wheel. Thanks to the oven, the house was finally heating up.
    "What else?" Jimmy was behind me again.
    "Boil six hot dogs in—" I was pointing to a small pot but the sander stopped abruptly and I got interrupted by Cue.
    "Eight hot dogs, you know I need my protein!" The sander started right back up again. Sneaky bastard had the best ears of anyone I knew.
    "Okay, eight, and just leave those two extra out for Cue's plate. The rest get chopped up and put in the mac, okay?"
    With Jimmy and I both working on dinner, it went pretty quick. I accidentally dumped some paprika in the mixture and later Dad said it was the best I ever made so there you go.
    After dinner, I got Dad to bed early and we didn't have any recurrence of bathroom problems. I checked and made sure that he didn't need my help and he said he was fine. So Jimmy borrowed some of Cue's warm clothes and we all walked out the door to Remo's mom's house. I made sure the oven was off and closed the door fast behind us, then locked it tight, to keep the heat in.

SUNDAY NIGHT MOVES
    It was getting darker and colder as the three of us walked the two blocks to the Rodriguez house. Remo wouldn't mind us being a little late. We didn't go out in the open. Cue led. Jimmy and I followed him as he cut through Mr. Hampton's yard, up onto the picnic table, over the fence, and