Bonefish Blues Read Free Page A

limb, but the only way to dig himself out of the hole he was in was with a big shovel and the odds on Vanderbilt winning would buy him a backhoe. A win here would settle all his debts ~ he ignored the thoughts of what a loss would do.
    The local bookie sat next to him, sipping a soda, “Number one, you got no credit. Number two, are you out of your mind?” Cody followed the man’s gaze to the screen.
    He reached into his pocket and pulled out the twenty. “Here, let’s call this a down payment. Make the bet a hundred,” he said trying to keep the look of desperation off his face.
    The man grabbed the twenty. “You ain’t got that kind of credit. I’ll call the bet twenty.”
    Cody guzzled the rest of his beer and slammed the mug down on the bar. “Just you wait. I’ll find another bookie and you’ll be missin’ my business.” He turned and looked around the bar for someone else he could bet with. 
    The man saw what he was up to. “Good luck there. In this pisshole of a town, I’m the only game. I’ll take your money. Just make sure your old man backs you up.”
    Cody stared at the screen, the kickoff seconds away. What the hell, he thought. His old man would bail him out. Not that he’d need it, he reassured himself. He ordered another beer and watched the game unfold. He got up at halftime, needing a bathroom break after half a dozen beers. His hopes were in the gutter; Vanderbilt was down by fourteen. Back at the bar, and ready for the third quarter, he switched to bourbon. 
    This didn’t seem to help, as the chasm deepened to twenty points. Defeated, he finally left the bar.
     
    ***
     
    Matt was texting, his head down when Cody approached the car. His math book was in his lap — Algebra two — a notepad open on the seat next to him. He was startled when Cody opened the door and got in. “Hey, Dad.”
    “Hey, yourself. What are you doing on that stupid phone?” He grabbed it and slammed it on the dashboard. “You need to be working those books,” he slurred.
    Matt looked him over, knowing he was drunk and had probably lost money by his temper. “Why don’t you let me drive?”
    “I got this,” Cody mumbled as he turned the key. The engine turned over, and Matt reached for the keys.
    “Dad, I’ve got my permit, and you’ve been drinking. I’ll drive. One more DUI and you have to do jail time,” Matt made a move for the door but was too late.
    Cody ignored him and pulled the lever down. He was sloppy drunk, and jerked too hard, so that the shift went right past reverse and into drive.
    “Dad, stop!” 
    But it was too late; the truck jerked forward, slamming into the parking bumper. Matt grabbed his books and phone and reached for the door handle. “You can’t drive like this. I’ll walk.” He got out and slammed the door, leaping out of the way as the truck found reverse and pulled out of the lot, tires shooting crushed coral toward him. 
    Head down he walked to the curb. Books at his feet, he sat on the vacant parking bumper and stared at his phone. It was five miles to his mom’s house. He was supposed to be staying with his dad this week, but he had no wish to be around the old man any more than necessary. Besides, she would let him stay there. Hopefully she didn’t have one of her boyfriends around. Just as he started to dial her number, he saw Will pull into the lot and he set down the phone. The old pickup stopped next to him.
    “Hey, you okay?” Will asked.
    “Yeah, sure. Just need a ride. I was just about to call my mom.”
    “No problem. I’ll take you over there. You eat anything yet? I was just about to get something.” He figured Matt had been here the whole time waiting for Cody, “Want to go?”
    Matt’s stomach had been grumbling for hours, but his dad had never asked whether he was hungry. The fact that Will did brought up a lump in his throat, and he quickly swallowed it down. “Yeah, that’d be great.” He went toward the rusted door and got