Immediately Shawn noticed the cab of the truck smelled of whiskey and cigarettes. He grimaced as the all to familiar scent flowed through his nostrils. Dismissing the unpleasant thought right away; he was far too excited to see his father to be disappointed so quickly. Although he aged a bit, Chet still looked the way Shawn had remembered. The boy couldn't help but smile ear to ear at this sight, something he yearned for, for so long. His adrenaline started to kick in as he felt his legs start to bounce.

Shawn's heart was thumping so hard he could hear it beat through his jacket. After over a year he was seated beside his father in the infamous white Chevy pickup. "Dad you look great, how have things been going?" Shawn asked enthusiastically, as he turned the knobs on the radio. "Things are PEACHY!!" Chet answered, his familiar gruff, raspy voice, was music to the young boys ears. "Look at you s-s--slim jim, you musta grown at least a foot since the last time I laid eyes on ya.

Shawn overlooked Chet's slurr, hoping the reunion wouldn't be ruined before it could even begin. However Shawn's conscience began to send his brain messages, "Look out kid, he's drunk." Shawn dismissed his inner thoughts with a shake of his head, "So dad, didja see mom, how is she, where is she, did she ask about me, what's her..."

WHOO, there son!! Easy now, plenty of time for questions about your mudder later, I wanna know whets ahh beeen up wiff you??" Shawn was sure of it now, his dad was plastered. The Chevy swung a hard left onto South Street with a screech. The pickup wavered between two lanes as Chet accelerated to about forty-five miles an hour. Shawn's eyes began to dart in all directions as he fished for his seat belt, "Dad! What's the hurry, you late for a hot date or something?" He asked, his voice oozing with panic. "What in tar nation are ya tall-pin about boy!!" Just then the Chevy blew a stop sign sending another car fishtailing into the intersection leaning on the horn.

Shawn abandoned the seat belt and instinctively raised his arms to his face, bracing for a near collision. "HOLY GOD!! DAD!! Pull over, PULL OVER NOW!!" Shawn screamed, his voice cracking with fear. Chet turned to face his son as he still drove the truck at cruising speed, "What the hell is your problem kid, you been on my case since you boarded this bus!!" Chet continued to keep his eye on Shawn not noticing he was drifting over the yellow line as they neared the Girard overpass. "LOOK OUT!! Shawn yelled as he clawed at the steering wheel, turning the wheel just in time to miss an oncoming truck. The Chevy veered out of control and careened onto the grass medium with a thud, sending Shawn's shoulder sailing into the dash. The truck rolled to a dusty stop as Chet yelled with excitement, WHOOOO WHEEEE!!! THAT WAS SOME RIDE!!! HOT DOG KID!!" Shawn's face twisted with anger as he sprung from the truck and ran to the driver's side. Flinging the door open he slammed his palm on the roof, "GIVE ME THE KEYS!!" He yelled as Chet continued to laugh uncontrollably, "Lighten up Shawn, you used to love joy riding with your old man!!" Shawn failed to see the humor in the situation as he quickly began to shake. The old feeling was returning with lightning speed.

The tears were just about to come to the surface as Shawn willed them away with anger, "Give me the GOD DAMNED KEYS!!" He roared, as Chet stopped laughing and dawned an angry glare. He pulled the keys from the ignition and twirled them up in his index finger. "You got a problem with me KID!" He asked as he wobbly leaned in on the steering wheel. Shawn stepped back and took a deep breath, rubbing his sore shoulder. He exhaled and tried to remain calm, "Please dad!! Just give me the keys; I'll get us home.. I'll take care of this." He pleaded.

"Oh I see".. the inebriated man began. "You'll take care of me!! Not even fifteen minutes in my company and already it starts, you think your better than me, kid??......You think you got one up on CHET!!!.Well let me tell you Shawn, you wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me!! No GOOD......GOOD FOR NOTHING LITTLE." Chet began to growl as Shawn prepared for the worst. Chet's eyes began to roll around as he wavered. He balled the keys into a fist and forcefully threw them with all his might, catching Shawn right over the eye. The keys bounced off as the boy clasped his face in pain and folded to one knee. Releasing a small muffled cry, Shawn's eyes shut tight. He felt the warm blood flow through his fingers quickly.

"God give me strength!" Shawn muttered as he checked his hands in the glare of the headlights, only crimson shone back. Chet leaned in and rested his head on the wheel, faintly mumbling to himself. Shawn grabbed the keys from the grass and stood on shaky legs, lifting his shirt, he wiped his brow and advanced toward the truck. Chet remained passed out cold behind the wheel. Shawn unbuckled the seat belt and pushed his father over. Chet flopped like a beached whale onto the seat as Shawn slid in behind the wheel. Tears and blood streaming down his cheeks; he wiped his nose and sniffled. "Good Times, huh pop??" Shawn started the truck and eased out onto the asphalt, praying to god, a cop wouldn't happen by. He pulled the parking brake and moved the seat forward as far as it could go. His father began to snore and wheeze from the passenger side. Shawn shook his head in awe and adjusted the rear view mirror, "Good thing I've been driving since I was twelve, huh Chet?" he questioned the silence beside him. Checking for oncoming traffic, Shawn put the stick in first gear and eased off the clutch. Homeward bound. God help him he was homeward bound.

Shawn pulled the truck to a halt in the gravel drive next to his trailer. Shutting off the ignition he sank back into the seat and stared. There it was in all its glory.His old trailer. It looked exactly the same, even the same chuck wagon curtains hung in the front window. It was like a nightmare. Shawn opened the squeaky door and leapt from the truck. The trailer park was silent, except for the hum of the crickets and the busy traffic of the nearby off-ramp. Shawn wiped at his eyebrow again, noticing the blood thickening, he spit into the grass as he staggered up the gravel path. Yanking the door open he pounded closed fist onto the window of the trailer across the way. Dogs began to bark and howl at the unfamiliar sound.

A few moments later a light shone through the frosted glass as Frankie Stecchino opened the door. Shawn's rotund classmate stood on the front step in shock at the sight before him. "Shawn!!! What the hell happened to you??" He questioned as he let the weary teen into his home. Shawn tottered into the living room and plopped onto the ratty sofa, still holding his blood soaked eye. Frankie knelt beside the boy and moved in for a closer look. Just then Big Frank came from the back room. "Shawnie, what's going on, where's your old man??" He asked peering through the curtains.

"He's in the pickup, out cold.. Could you help me get him in the house, Mr. Stecc.OOOWWW!!" Shawn screamed as Frankie pushed at his eyebrow, the deep gash opened wider as fresh blood began to pour from the wound. Mr. Stecchino returned his attention to Shawn, "No sweat kid, I'll get him inside, Frankie you patch up Shawn." Just then Frankie's little brother Herman ran from the back room. "Oh MY Shawn, you look positively ragged!!" He exclaimed as he folded his hands. "Herman, get Shawn a drink, and bring me the first aid kit." Frankie yelled as he snapped his fingers. The chunky child hopped to it as Frankie held a towel to Shawn's eye, "Oh man, Hunter your going to have a huge shiner in the morning!!" Herman brought the first aid kit and handed it to Frankie; Shawn remained on the couch, eyes closed, and silent. Frankie placed two butterfly bandages over Shawn's eyebrow and held a towel hard to his head. The pressure made Shawn's head beat hard and his stomach swim with nausea. He swung his arm in protest to the pain as Frankie swatted it away, "Back off Hunter, just let me do this." Before long the bleeding was subsiding.

Big Frank bounded into the trailer as the door slammed shut; "I got him into bed Shawnie, no worries okay buddy! Now let me get a good look at that eye." The gigantic man leaned in and examined Shawn's face. The wrestler grunted, "Not to bad, probably could use a stitch or two, but you could get away without it." Herman waddled in and held a soda up for Shawn. Shawn went to grab the can with his right hand and winced. Slumping back down into the sofa, he let out a yelp. Frankie and his father exchanged glances. At that, young Frankie stood and closed in behind Shawn, softly lifting the boy forward on the couch.

Big Frank unzipped the blood soaked jacket and gently eased it off Shawn shoulders. Frankie started to unbutton Shawn's flannel shirt, as Herman came from the kitchen with an icepack. Frankie undid the last button; parting the shirt it revealed a large yellowish purple bruise forming on Shawn's shoulder and chest. "Hellfire!!" Big Frank exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock, "What he hit ya with Boy a barbell??" he questioned as he grabbed the icepack from Herman. He placed it onto Shawn's shoulder. The boy shuddered in pain and gasped, a tear escaping his eye.

"Shawnie, I need ya to move your fingers, for me??" Shawn silently abided as he extended his right hand and waved his fingers in the air. "Cool it looks like nothings broken in there, ya wanna go to the hospital kid??" Big Frank questioned. Shawn shook his head no and opened his bloodshot swollen eyes. "You can stay the night, just rest there, and you'll be good as new by morning." Shawn nodded wearily, as Herman began to unlace his shoes. Young Frankie came and placed a crocheted blanket across Shawn's waist. He sank with a thud onto the couch next to Shawn, "So what do you want me to tell Cory tomorrow."

Shawn exhaled and shook his head in disbelief, "How the hell am I gonna explain this one??" Frankie reached out and handed Shawn the soda. Shrugging the large boy smiled, whatever you come up with, I'm on board, okay Hunter." Shawn shot Frankie the thumbs up and collapsed back onto the couch, falling into a deep sleep.