Free The Glass Kingdom by Chris Flynn Page A

he’s driving the only car on the road other than ours, I noticed that, yes, thank you.’
    â€˜Where do you think he’s going?’
    I sighed as I made the turn. ‘Crank World, maybe. Or the Big Meth Pipe. How the fuck would I know? Home, probably.’
    The Toyota limped into a dead-end street, smoke still belching from its rear. There were two dilapidated weatherboard houses on either side of the road and he pulled into the driveway of the one at the end on the left. I slowed down for a second to get a look, then drove on. I turned back towards the main street and pulled in to park out of the line of sight of the house, killing the engine.
    I was out of the car in a flash, crouching at the rear wheel to watch the dealer unlock the front door of his house and disappear inside. My hands instinctively clutched for the ghost rifle and I shook my fingers out in irritation. I couldn’t seem to stop that tic.
    Filthy, tattered curtains hung in the windows of the house, and they were pulled shut. The lawn was baked yellow in the few spots where it had somehow managed to survive—the front was a dustbowl. The building had been painted sky blue at some point but most of the colour was gone now, the paint faded and peeling in the sun. The stumps had sunk on one side, giving the house a distinct lean. Home sweet fucken home.
    I spent a few more minutes watching for further movements but saw nothing. I made a note of the street name and climbed back into the driver’s seat. Steph had been watching the house in the rear-view mirror.
    â€˜What do you think? Are we going to pay him a visit?’
    â€˜Oh, it’s “we” now, is it? You’re game all of a sudden.’
    â€˜You’ve got one of those metal rod thingos you use to change tyres. I could hit him with that.’
    â€˜A tyre iron. Well, you could, but it’s probably not advisable. Baby steps. We’ll come back tonight and have a poke around if he’s not home.’
    â€˜This is not as much fun as I expected.’
    â€˜You’ll get your chance.’
    The crowds were beginning to form by the time we got back to the Kingdom. Despite the baking afternoon heat, over-enthusiastic kids had managed to persuade their parents to drag them around the carnival, looking forward to plastering fairy floss all over their faces and going home with overpriced show bags filled with crap. Steph and I watched a dozen different family units struggling to extricate strollers from the boots of cars while trying not to lose their temper at impatient toddlers.
    â€˜Still keen on popping out a couple of sprogs?’ I asked Steph as we trundled slowly through the car park towards the staff parking area.
    â€˜Gives you pause, doesn’t it? Look at those angry, sweaty faces. Some of these couples are probably five years younger than us and they look ten years older.’ She turned back to me and placed a hand on my thigh. ‘I don’t want us to end up like that, Ben. We’ll do things different, eh?’
    â€˜My oath we will.’
    â€˜I never imagined myself having a child until I met you. Now I can’t imagine anything else. I always dreamed of saving enough money telling fortunes and giving massages to be able to open a little kinesiology and yoga studio on the Gold Coast. I could rent out the space for life drawing and Pilates classes, teach Ayurvedic massage and align the chakras of people who need my help, go home at night to a man who is glad to see me, maybe a couple of kids who’ll show me the drawings they’ve done at school. I could stick them to the refrigerator using magnets shaped like dinosaurs and ask them if they want Vegemite or Promite in tomorrow’s sandwiches. We could share baths and maybe fool around a little until the kids burst in and we have to disguise what we’re doing under the bubbles.’
    Running the aircon all the time made my eyes dry up so I switched it