We All Fall Down Read Free Page A

seen him enough this week to know what he’s been talking about.”
    “This has been a busy week for him,” my mother said.
    “And how is that different from any other week?”
    My mother didn’t answer right away. “Your father isn’t happy with the situation either. He would like to be able to spend more time with us.”
    It seemed pretty simple to me. If he wanted to spend more time with us he just had to leave his office. I knew he had an important job, and thatmeant a lot of responsibility … as well as a big paycheck. But money wasn’t a big problem for us. If we’d needed the cash, Mom could have gone back to work after I started school, but she chose to stay home and put in time with her charities and volunteer work, so we couldn’t be that hard up.
    “There, all done,” I said as I loaded the last of the dishes into the washer.
    My mother pulled the lasagna pan out of the soapy water in the sink.
    “You boys must be getting pretty good considering how much you’ve been practicing.”
    “We’re getting better.”
    “It’s very nice of Mr. and Mrs. Bennett to let you use their basement.”
    “Yep.”
    “And they don’t mind?”
    “Nope. Mrs. Bennett says as long as she can hear us playing she knows where we are and that we’re not getting into any trouble.”
    “And Mr. Bennett?”
    “I think he likes us being there. He even came downstairs and played with us the other night.”
    She smiled. “He did?”
    “Yeah, he plays guitar. It’s all old school … you know, like Led Zeppelin and the Stones and the Beatles, but he can really play. He’s pretty cool for an old guy.”
    “Old guy? He’s about the same age as your father and me.”
    “That’s what I said, for an
old guy.”
I smiled. “Actually, he’s still in pretty good shape, too. Sometimes he plays some hoops with us on the driveway and he can almost keep up.”
    “Being fit is part of his job,” my mother said.
    “You can’t have a fat, unfit fireman.” She paused. “It’s been a while since you and your father played basketball together.”
    “A long time.”
    “Maybe you could challenge him to a game this weekend,” she suggested.
    “What are the chances he’ll even be home this weekend?”
    “Well, I don’t see any business trips scheduled,” she said, taking a look at the calendar on the side of the fridge.
    “Just because they aren’t scheduled doesn’t mean they don’t happen.”
    My mother looked sad. “Things do come up.” She put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s not easy, and it’s not what any of us would want. It’s just the way it is sometimes. Your father would love nothing better than to play some basketball with you, or even go over to James’s place and jam with you boys.”
    “Jam?”
    “Play along … that is the word, isn’t it … jam?”
    “Yeah. You got the word right—it was the idea of Dad playing an instrument that kind of freaked me out there.”
    “It’s been a lot of years, but I imagine he can still play the drums.”
    “Oh yeah, Dad told me he used to play the drums when he was my age.”
    “It’s probably like riding a bike,” my mother said. “I can still picture your father in his friend’s garage, playing with his band.”
    “He was in a band?” That I didn’t know.
    “I don’t think they ever had a name or played anywhere except the garage, but they considered themselves a band … just the way you boys do.”
    We’d only played in the basement so far, but we had big plans, and we almost had a name.
    “I can just picture your father, pounding away on those drums, his hair halfway down his back and—”
    “Dad had hair halfway down his back?” I asked in amazement.
    I’d started letting my hair grow at the end of school last year, but I was keeping my mouth shut about it and expecting any day to hear my father tell me to get a haircut. Mine still wasn’t quite to my shoulders. “Everybody had long hair then. Haven’t you seen any pictures of