Page 238 - Some Dance to Remember

208 Jack Fritscher

Later, Sandy cooked supper. “We’re having SpaghettiOs,” she said.
“I’m not touching those chickens.”
“I told you,” Thom said, “there’s nothing to plucking and gutting a
chicken.”
“Yuck,” Sie said.
“Then why don’t you do it?” Sandy said.
“Because,” Thom said, “I’m the hunter. You’re the cook.”
“Oh, really,” Ryan said.
“Fuckin’ A,” Thom said. “Anyone who doesn’t carry their own weight
around here can clear out.” He stared hard at Sandy who tried for an
instant to stare him down, but then retreated.
Abe and Bea, with their mouths full, spent the meal tormenting Sie
who had come late to the table from somewhere outside with straw in her
hair.” I’m not hungry,” she said.
“You’ve been out,” Abe said, “putting cocks in your mouth.”
“Sie’s a cocksucker,” Bea said.
“You’re the cocksucker, Bea!” Sie said.
“Yuck!” Bea said. “I don’t even eat hotdogs.”
“Lesbo,” Abe said.
“Boy!” Ryan said, “You guys really know how to make conversation.”
“I’ve told the three of them,” Thom said, “that this weekend you’re in
charge of them.”
“Big deal,” Bea said.
“I refuse to be in charge of them,” Ryan said.
“I told you,” Thom addressed all three triplets, “to eat with knives and
forks and spoons.”
“If you don’t,” Sandy said, “you won’t know how to act when you
start dating.”
“You don’t need forks,” Abe said, “to eat at McDonald’s.”
“Sie doesn’t need a knife and fork to eat dick,” Bea said.
Bea picked up a handful of SpaghettiOs and threw them at Sie. The
nuclear family went into meltdown. Sandy started screaming: “Stop it!
Stop it!” Thom pushed his chair back from the table. A mess of salad,
dripping with Kraft French dressing, hit him in the face. He roared up
at the end of the table. He looked directly at Abe who sat defiantly in his
chair. Abe had meant the salad to hit Bea, but he hardly looked as if he
cared he had hit his father.
“Do something,” Sandy screamed. “Now you see what they’re like!”
Thom rose from his chair. He stared down across the table at his son.
“You son of a bitch,” he said to Abe, “you’re going to make my day.” He

©Jack Fritscher, Ph.D., All Rights Reserved
HOW TO LEGALLY QUOTE FROM THIS BOOK