Read Online All of the Voices by Bailey Bradford - Free Book Online Page A

name him, did she?” Why hadn’t he known that?
    “She really did,” Carlin said as he slathered more ointment on Matt’s back. “Robbie really did a number on you. I had no idea chickens could be so vicious. I’ll feel like a real man next time I sit down and have my favourite chicken dinner.”
    “You only get the real man creds if you kill the chicken yourself,” Matt said. “As for vicious chickens, that little red bastard is a Rhode Island Red. Most of them are regular ol’
    chickens, nice enough if you think of chickens that way. But occasionally some of them are aggressive. There’s even been cases where a Rhode Island Red killed a small dog or fox if it invaded the rooster’s territory.”
    Carlin stepped in front of him and shuddered. “Great, so I actually have a killer rooster, that’s what you’re telling me. Wonder why Robbie Red didn’t try to get me too?”
    ALL OF THE VOICES
    Bailey Bradford
    44

    Matt grinned at his lover. “You’re just too cute. Or maybe the rooster was afraid of getting sued.”
    “More like getting stewed,” Carlin deadpanned.
    Matt groaned and covered his eyes with his hand. “I can’t believe you said that. If I thought you meant it I’d ask when dinner was, if I ate chicken.”
    “You don’t eat chicken?”
    “Nope.” Matt nearly laughed at the disbelieving look Carlin gave him. He slapped a hand over his heart. “I swear. Used to have to help my grandpa with his chickens when I was a kid. I can’t tell you how many times I got pecked or scratched, but I decided back then I didn’t like chickens and haven’t eaten any since.”
    “I guess I can understand that, though I’d probably have gone to the other extreme and eaten as much chicken as I possibly could have.” Carlin looked around Matt’s tiny bathroom.
    Matt looked as well, trying to see it through Carlin’s eyes. The walls were painted a sunny yellow, the floor tiles were white, and the shower curtain was some yellow, red and orange abstract patterned thing his sister had picked out for him. It was a bathroom, nothing fancy.
    Carlin nodded as if the room met his approval. “You up to giving me a tour of the rest of the place?”
    “Sure. Guess you didn’t see much as you hustled me to the bathroom,” Matt teased.
    “Not that there’s a lot to see. This place used to belong to my grandpa and grandma. When they passed away they left the house to me and Shelly, my sister. I bought out her share since she didn’t want anything to do with the place.”
    “Was that the grandpa with the chickens?”
    “Yeah, my Mom’s dad.” Matt pointed to his left. “Here’s the living room, and down the hall is my bedroom and another two rooms, one I use as a weight room, the other is a bare bones bedroom.”
    Matt showed Carlin each room, watching the man closely for his reactions. The house had been moderately decorated in a western style by Matt’s grandparents, and Matt hadn’t seen any need to change much more than the paint. He’d also sanded down the hardwood floors and refinished them, bringing out the golden honey colour of the wood that’d been dulled by the years.
    Carlin touched the aged wood frame of one of the larger paintings in Matt’s bedroom.
    “Who painted this?”
    ALL OF THE VOICES
    Bailey Bradford
    45

    Matt looked at the painting of the north Texas sunset casting shadows over the mesquite and scrub. “My grandma. Most of the paintings in the house were hers. My grandpa would make the frames out of aged mesquite. It was his favourite wood.”
    “Is that what these beautiful floors are made of?”
    Matt nodded. “Yeah. Grandpa laid each plank himself when he built this house.”
    Carlin looked over the room, humming quietly. Matt hoped Carlin liked it, though why he wanted the man’s approval was beyond him. Other paintings of landscapes hung on the cream coloured walls. The bed frame and furniture were all made of mesquite, hand carved by Matt’s grandpa years ago. A