Summary: A young Perry and his sister, Paige, play their nightly game of HORSE.
Author's Note: Why does Perry hate the fact that Paige goes to church? Maybe it's because in his mind, God stole her away from him (right when he really needed her).
Perry Cox
PenPatronus
Story #11:
HORSE
Fourteen-year-old Perry Cox stood at the end of his family's drive-way with a backpack over one shoulder and a basketball under one arm. He released an exhale that puffed his cheeks out like a blowfish, and squinted at the lights on in his house. The Pittsburgh night was cooling itself slowly, and that chill combined with fresh sweat from the game made Perry shiver.
"See you at practice tomorrow, Coxie?" came a voice from the jeep behind him.
"Yeah, coach," Perry said without turning around. "Thanks for the ride…again."
"You did good today, son, your passes are really improving. I might put you on second string next week against the Warriors…you know, if Mishler hasn't healed yet but I'll…I'll let you know, ok?"
"Yeah. Sure, coach."
Coach Stevens waited a few moments more before he drove off, and Perry could feel his eyes on his back. Perry wanted to flag his coach down and explain that everything was ok, his family probably just forgot about his game again, were too busy to pick him up, that he wasn't hesitating to enter his own house, he was just…just…
Petrified.
He wished the game had gone into overtime just so he had an excuse to stay away from home longer, anything to prevent contact with his father. His father…the local hero in a middle-class neighborhood because his real-estate business had brought both money and jobs to Pittsburgh. His father…the politician-like businessman shaking hands and kissing babies, attending parties with his smiling, made-up wife on his arm, rarely showing up at Perry's basketball games and Paige's piano recitals, and only then just to brag about his profits for that quarter and chuckle modestly when people asked him if he planned to run for mayor. His father…who told Perry to practice more so that he wouldn't embarrass the family. His father…who forced Paige to start wearing make-up when she was seven. His father…who treated his mother like she was an accessory, and not worth the dust she cleaned. Like she was a paid advertisement for his greatness. Like she was only there to make him look and feel better. His father.
Perry's friends didn't stand outside their drive-ways at night and have such thoughts. His teammates were probably treated to pizza and ice cream after the game. They probably got a kiss on the cheek from their mothers and a firm, congratulatory "I'm proud of you, son" handshake from their fathers. When they got home they probably played video games and complained about doing their homework. Their families came to the basketball games. Their families played board games together and went to picnics! Their families weren't forced to be completely different people outside of the home than they were inside.
Perry sighed. He would approach the house like he approached basketball (when the coach actually put him in): a fast break through the door, pivots around chairs and people and punches, and then a direct drive straight for his bedroom where he could lock the door and hide out all night. He'd do his science homework slowly, savoring. They were studying human anatomy in class and Perry found it fascinating how all those parts managed to work together. Most people thought of him as just a jock, and an average one at that, but recently Perry found himself drawn to academics like nothing else before, and quite frankly he found it embarrassing.
His father was embarrassed by him.
The front door creaked as he opened it. Perry winced.
"Perry!"
His cover blown, Perry dropped the basketball and let the bouncing echo against the front hall walls. He sighed, defeated.
"PERRY! Get your ass in here and help your sister!" His dad released a whistle, high-pitched and shrill and deafening. It gave Perry goosebumps, and annoyed him like hell.
"Hey Pops," Perry greeted the man who sat smoking and drinking straight from a scotch bottle on top of a kitchen table layered with old newspapers and porn. Perry stood before him in a sweaty basketball jersey but his father didn't even look at him, let alone comment. He didn't give a shit that he'd missed another one of his son's games.
James Cox had balding red hair, a bloated nose and permanently blushed cheeks. His weight barely fit into the chair and his thighs bulged through the spaces between the wooden rungs. Leanna Cox sat across from her husband. She was young and skinny and had pale skin beneath her latest black eye. She grinned stupidly and then went back to her wine.
Rattling came from the kitchen. Perry dropped his backpack and joined his younger sister, Paige, who was loading the dishwasher. "Hey Paigey."
"Hey, Per. How was the game?"
"We lost."
"Sorry." Paige tossed him a washcloth.
"No biggie." Perry wiped down the counters as Paige ran the machine. His sister noticed that his wiping was rather violent. "Game of HORSE?"
"Yes, please." Perry tossed the cloth into the sink. "That was the first basket I've made all night." The siblings ignored their parents as they were yelled at on their way out the front door.
---
"H."
"H."
"O. Where did that burn come from, Paigey?"
"Mom was making eggs this morning. Hey, Per, listen. I got invited to this…thing…It starts tomorrow and it's, well, every weekday night. Six to eight…R."
"Yeah. Okay. Whatever." But that's when we play basketball! Perry bent from his knees, arched his wrist and hefted the ball towards the hoop, missing it completely. "Damn…Where's it at?"
"St. Anthony's, down the block."
Perry nearly dropped the basketball. "You're going to church?"
"It's the youth group. The neighbors invited me."
"O. And Mom's letting you go?"
Paige shrugged. "I told her we'd be playing Bingo. She promised not to tell Dad…Don't worry, Per. If anybody asks about anything, I'll just tell them…you know…"
Perry lifted up his shirt, exposing a half-dozen bruises on his stomach and chest. "Yeah, I know." They finished the first round of HORSE, then a second. And then Perry said, "Well, Paige, I'm glad you're, you know, doing all that but…we'll still play basketball, right?"
"As long as I keep beating you."
"No, I mean, you're just doing this youth group thing for a little while, right? Then we'll be able to play again?"
Paige sighed. She dropped the ball and stopped its bouncing with her toe. "Perry…I need to get out of this house. I need to stay away from mom and dad and I don't care where I go. Look, you should come too! There's a couple guys there, they'd probably play basketball with you."
Perry waved at her as he headed back for the house. "No, Paige, don't worry about it. You do your thing…I'll stay here. I hope God burns you less than Mom."
