Page 19 - Leather Blues

Leather Blues 7

the shirt. He shoved the tail into his Levi’s and descended to
his mother’s kitchen.
“We look healthy this morning.” She pecked his cheek.
“Yeah,” he said. He gulped his orange juice and pushed
the bowl of warm cereal away. “Coffee,” he said.
“Dennis.” His mother stood over him. “You want to
keep your health.”
“Coffee,” he repeated. “It’s all I want.”
She backed off. He knew how to handle her. His father
had made her afraid of men. She tentatively touched his
shoulder. He didn’t resist. She ran her hand down his hard
arms until she touched his big hand. She wondered how a
young man so big could have grown from inside her small
body.
“Don’t stand behind me.” Denny imitated his father’s
tone.
“Your father says,” she began.
“My father says for you to turn down the radio.”
His mother looked frightened. “I always think it’s never
too loud. Do you think it’s too loud, Dennis?”
“If my Old Man don’t like it, it’s too loud or too soft or
too something.”
“Don’t call him the Old Man,” she said. “He’s forty-two.”
“Do I get any coffee?” he asked.
His mother stood timidly before him. “It’s his coffee,”
she said. “Your father works construction hard to pay for it.”
“I work.”
“Your father says you don’t give him enough for both
room and board. He says you spend too much on your
motorcycle. He wants a door to the bathroom.”
“Who doesn’t.”
“And I worry about you too. All that time and money
you spend working at that filling station and wearing your-
self out at the Y. I know you meet lots of good Christian
boys there.”

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