Free Favorite Sons by Robin Yocum

was out jogging and stopped by the garage when he saw a plume of dust energized by my push broom billowing like a miniature storm cloud through the bay door opening and into the alley.
    â€œHow’s Adrian?” I asked.
    â€œMoody as hell, just like always.”
    â€œHe’s got a lot on his mind right now.”
    Pepper waved at the air. “Petey Sanchez has nothing to do with it. Adrian spends half his life in a foul mood. I told him if a woman was on the rag as much as him, she’d bleed to death.”
    â€œHow’d he take that?”
    â€œLike you’d expect. He smacked me up the back of the head.” He grinned. “Hard, too.” He looked around the garage at the mound of trash I was piling near the door. “Does your mom ever give you a day off?”
    â€œNot too often. She says it keeps me out of trouble. You saw what happened the last time she gave me the morning off.”
    Pepper rolled his eyes. “I hear that.” He walked across the garage and sat down on the weight-lifting bench. “Are you going to the night swim tonight?”
    â€œMaybe. I’ve got to go to the funeral home first.”
    His eyes widened. “For Petey?”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œYou’re shitting me?”
    â€œI shit thee not.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause my mom thinks I should go and pay my respects. It’s not so much about Petey as it is being nice to Mrs. Sanchez. Mom feels sorry for her with all those kids and no money.”
    â€œWell, whose fault is that? She’s like a damn Pez dispenser for ugly, squash-faced babies.”
    â€œChrist, Pepper!”
    â€œTell me it’s not so. Every one of those kids except Petey has a face like the top of a pumpkin.”
    I had to choke back a grin. “Are your folks going?”
    Pepper shook his head. “Dad said the only contact he ever had with them was the time old man Sanchez came to him for a car loan. He needed eight hundred bucks to buy a used station wagon to haul all those kids around.”
    â€œDid your dad give it to him?”
    â€˜â€œYeah, he said Mr. Sanchez had more fingers than he had dollars in the bank, but he was driving those kids around in an old car that had rusted through the floorboards, so he gave it to him.”
    â€œHe ever pay it back?”
    â€œEvery dime, on time.”
    I worked a broom under the bench and pulled out some dirt and mouse turds. “Are you supposed to know that kind of stuff?”
    â€œProbably not.” He leaned back on the bench and pounded out a set of eight. “I hear Dad talking to Mom when he thinks I’m not listening. I know every bad loan risk in town and who’s late on their mortgage payments.” Pepper stood for a minute and stared into space, lost in his thoughts, then said, “I don’t think I could do that, Hutch.”
    â€œGive Mr. Sanchez a car loan?”
    â€œSmart ass. Go to the funeral home.”
    â€œHaven’t you ever been to the funeral home?”
    â€œSure, but you know what I mean—being up there with Petey and his family.”
    â€œThey don’t know anything.”
    â€œThat’s just the point. You’re going to be standing around all his family. They’re going to be all teary and wanting answers and you’re one of the few people who has them. You know, it was one thing to leave Petey up in the woods and just walk away. I mean, we all walk away from problems, and that’s exactly what we did. There wasn’t anything we could do for him, so we just wiped our hands and left. But, going to the funeral home?” He shook his head and whistled. “I couldn’t do that. If I don’t have to look at them, or be around them, or hear them cry, then I can deal with this. I can justify it in my mind by saying that I’m doing it for my brother. But I couldn’t go to the funeral home knowing what I know.”
    â€œI’ll be all