Songs_of_the_Satyrs Read Free Page A

an assortment of freshly baked cookies, bars, and cakes.
    “Thanks, Dud.”
    He left the room nodding wearily as if the nickname took a little bit out of him each time she said it.
    Maria giggled and Chris joined her. He knew she only called him that to get his goat.
    “Sign.” She thrust the pen at Chris.
    He put the pen to his lip, visibly working out what to say. Finally, he shrugged and, on the bottom of the cast, wrote:
     
    Dear Maria, your first cast. One heck of a milestone. Maybe Dud can make one for me, too. One of each for each. Ha-ha.
     
    He added two dots and a grin and signed it, “Yours, Chris.”
    “What does it say? I can’t read it from here.” She stretched and leaned until she could see it, then smiled and raised her big white boot, giving his shoulder a hard push. As her foot fell back to the pillow her eyes widened, noting the green ink smear left on his shirt by the sole of the cast. She grabbed the tray. “Let’s eat these things.”
    He looked out the window. A long, dark car pulled up to the curb. Steam swirled in the headlights just before they blinked out. The windows were shaded and it looked as if no one was in there.
    “Is it time yet?” Maria asked.
    “It’s getting close.” He would wait until people stopped arriving. He took her hand and held it in both of his. “I really am sorry about your foot, you know.”
    “Don’t be. I’m just glad I didn’t land on Richie. We’d both still be lying there, turkey vultures picking our bones clean.”
    They each grabbed a cookie and looked to the window. Night was moving in.
     
    ***
     
    “Oh, Chris. You weren’t watching.” Mrs. W. swept right in.
    “It’s okay. I’m leaving right now.”
    “Oh no you’re not. You go call your father. Tell him I’ll send you home first thing in the morning. I won’t have you running through the woods on my watch. You don’t want to get caught there at night.”
    “It’s okay, I’ll run real fast!” Chris protested. He jumped up and headed for the door. “I’ll take the road, I swear.”
    Mrs. W. followed him out toward the foyer, then gripped the top of his head and turned it like a lid on a one-gallon jar.
    “Phone,” she said, using his head to maneuver him in the direction of the kitchen. “And make it fast. I have a meeting to get started.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    He took slow heavy steps. Hopefully Richie would answer. He crossed his fingers. On the fourth ring, he heard it pick up and turned his back to the doorway for privacy.
    There was a long pause, a sound of fumbling as the person at the other end took time to get the handset from cradle to ear.
    Richie. Chris sighed relief. He looked down at the countertop to conceal his conversation. “Richie,” he whispered as loudly as he could without being heard.
    “Where are you?”
    “Is Dad home?”
    “Not yet. Where are you?”
    “I’m at Maria’s. Mrs. W. is making me stay here.”
    “You’re a dead man.”
    “C’mon, Richie, cover for me. I’ll be home first thing in the morning.”
    “What do you want me to tell him?”
    “Nothing unless you have to. In that case, I don’t care, just make it good.”
    “You’re playing with fiiire,” Richie taunted.
    “Shut up,” Chris said.
    “Okay. But you owe me one.”
    “Richie, wait. Why didn’t you tell me—”
    The phone clicked.
    With more levity in his voice than he would ever use with his father, Chris added into the dead receiver, “Okay, Dad. See you tomorrow.”
    Mrs. W. was waiting outside the kitchen door. She ushered him back to Maria’s bedroom.
    “No funny business, you two. You’re not getting any younger.” She smiled and backed out of the room. She closed the door and they heard it latch. Maria’s cheeks blossomed rosy red.
     
    ***
     
    He should have been asleep. He did drift off for a bit, but it was shallow sleep.
    How long had he been lying there? An hour? Three? He didn’t want to know. His bedspread and blanket had already been