Two down, six to go.
Scott had traded one Hell for another. Obviously, his father had not changed. They were both superb actors, crying at the right moment, hugging each other. Jimmy even swore he would never lay a hand on him again. Thirty-four years of experience taught him how to fool urine tests. Lying fooled the psychiatrist, who really just counted the minutes until he could get home to his wife. As for AA- well, showing up was more than enough.
Even showing up drunk counted for you, and not against you.
Scott was lying on the couch, legs jackknifed, arms folded across his chest. At the rickety kitchen table, Jimmy was playing quarters and poker with two friends from some bar.
It was almost ten at night. Outside, freezing rain lashed at the windows. Scott was counting the moments until his father passed out. Usually it was about eleven, but tonight he had gotten an early start. With the end of the NFL, Jimmy's local team had started up again.
They had won.
A knock came at the door. Scott glanced at his father for a fleeting instant before heaving himself up off the couch. He crossed the room, stepping lightly over beer bottles and cigarette cartons.
The door opened to reveal a twenty something brunette in a belly shirt and tight pants.
"Hey Marley." Scott said, stepping back to let his father's new girlfriend in. She waved to him and headed for Jimmy, stumbling only slightly in her four-inch heels.
"Hey baby." She cooed, bending to kiss his cheek. "I heard your team won. I thought we could celebrate." From her purse, she extracted a bottle of vodka and a baggie of coke, showing Jimmy under the table. Outwardly, she winked at him.
"I think I can swing that." Jimmy grinned. "See you guys later." He grabbed her around the waist and swung her onto his lap, kissing her neck.
"Right on, Jimmy." One man sniggered. He and his friend stood and headed for the door, obviously not knowing they were about to miss a different party.
The slamming of the door made Scott flinch. He sat on the couch, criss cross apple sauce, head bowed, as Marley poured the white powder onto the table and arranged it into a line. He stood and slowly made his way to his room.
"Does Scott want a hit?" Marley asked, sniffing and wiping her nose. Scott froze. He stood very still and stared at his father.
"I dunno." Marley held Jimmy's long hair back as he bent to snort the next line. "Ask him."
"You want to try, sweetie?" Marley called out. He glanced at his father, who held his gaze impassively.
"I don't want to bother you guys." Scott said awkwardly, shoving his hands in his back pockets. He didn't want to insult his father by joining, or by refusing to join.
"It'll be fun." Marley wheedled. Scott stared at his father, who jerked his head for him to come over. "Have you ever done this before?" Marley was so nice. Scott mutely shook his head.
"Kid's a fuckin' saint." Jimmy grunted. Marley laughed.
"It's easy." She arranged another line of white and told him to hold his hair back. He did as she instructed. "Alright, now bend over and just breathe it in through your nose."
Feeling stupid, Scott bent and put his nose into the dust. He started to inhale it, but it burned his nose right away and he jerked back.
"Ow." He mumbled, holding his hands to his face.
Marley laughed sympathetically while Jimmy snorted in amusement. She motioned for him to try again. Determined to impress his father, Scott knelt and snorted the whole line.
"Jesus." He hissed. He put his hand to his nose and it came away bloody.
"Popped your cherry." Jimmy snarled, laughing louder. The sound echoed through the cramped, small room. Scott stared up at him, weaving slightly. "Is it fun?"
"Jimmy, he looks sick." Marley said, sounding worried. Jimmy pushed her off him and stood, grabbing Scott's hair and wrenching his head back. "Don't- don't hurt him."
Everything was blurred now, trails leading after Jimmy's hand as he raised and let it fall down on Scott's cheek.
"Wake up!" He said loudly.
"Jimmy, don't." Marley whispered. She knew it was no use but Jimmy's son was cute, and she liked having him around. She liked the way he watched her when she bent over or strolled across the room. It made her feel pretty, prettier than when Jimmy passed out on top of her.
She especially liked the way Scott kissed. They had only done it a couple times, on the couch after Jimmy knocked himself out. Marley sitting on his lap, her long arms around his neck. Once she let him put his hand up her shirt. It was cute in a little kid kind of way.
Scott had the characteristics of a rape victim, which she recognized from a girl she had turned tricks with a few years back. Sometimes she wondered what Jimmy did when she was not around. He didn't seem like a pedophile, and she could hold his interest well enough.
Still, one couldn't help but wonder-
"Scottie, wake the fuck up!" Jimmy shouted, breaking Marley from her reverie. He shook him by his skinny shoulders, panicked.
"Oh my god, Jimmy!" Marley shrieked. She reached out, as if to take him, but Jimmy sat him on the couch and slapped him again.
"Dad-" Scott whispered. "I told him- I said no-" He wasn't making much sense. His words were slurred, his eyes half-closed. "I- I'm sorry- Dad."
"Shut up!" Jimmy yelled. "Just shut the fuck up. Get your ass up, right now Scott."
His son slid from his grasp, shirt riding up as he reached the floor to expose painful looking bruises across his stomach.
Marley covered her mouth with her hands, breathing heavily. She had to slow down, because if she didn't she knew she would hyperventilate.
"Scott, honey, wake up." She sobbed.
Scott could see Marley's mascara stained cheeks and his father's scruffy beard, looming in ever closer. He tried to stay awake. He really did.
Slowly, everything slipped into a gray-green sort of haze. He thought he heard the word hospital, but damn it he was really tripping.
Was this bad?