Read Online Bleakboy and Hunter Stand Out in the Rain by Steven Herrick - Free Book Online

a jacket. Hunter had laughed, he didn’t need a jacket at the beach. He raced down the driveway and jumped the fence in one casual bound. He hopped in the car. His dad said hello and sped off up the street, before Hunter had even fastened his seatbelt. The conversation went like this:
    â€˜How are you, Hunts?’
    â€˜Good,’ Hunter placed his bag on the floor under his seat.
    Mr Riley shifted gear, elaborately, and turned onto Benson Freeway. Hunter wondered what that distinctive smell was. He looked around the interior of the car at the leather seats and the wood-grain dashboard. He turned and looked behind. Nothing but an old frisbee on the rear seat. The car rumbled along the double-lane freeway. Hunter felt like he was sitting in a massage chair. He wondered if they were heading east, to the beach.
    â€˜I’m thinking of adding a racing stripe,’ Mr Riley said.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜A racing stripe, black and white, like the ’67 Mustang.’ He smiled. ‘Didn’t you notice my new car? I had a Matchbox model just like this when I was your age. You like cars, don’t you, Hunts?’
    â€˜Hunter,’ he corrected his father. You shouldn’t have to tell your dad your name, he thought.
    â€˜Come on, I’ve always called you Hunts,’ his dad said.
    Hunter shrugged. They drove on in silence. Hunter kept stealing glances at his father. He wondered why he smiled all the time. Why he leaned forward, even when driving, his hands holding the steering wheel loosely, eyes narrowed, squinting into the sun. His sunglasses dangled from the rear-view mirror, swaying back and forth every time they rounded a corner. It began to irritate Hunter. He’d rather his father hid behind the glasses.
    His hair was different from last time. It was longer and swept back off his forehead, lacquered around his ears and curled up at his shirt collar. Hunter stared. He was wearing gel. At his age. That was the smell in the car: hair gel, aftershave and leather.
    As if reading Hunter’s mind, Mr Riley wound down the window.
    â€˜It’s a good day for swimming, Dad,’ Hunter said.
    His dad swept a hand over his hair and wound the window up, checking his appearance in the mirror.
    â€˜Hunts, I’ve got a surprise for you,’ Mr Riley turned to Hunter, grinning.
    â€˜Yeah,’ Hunter replied, picturing a boogie board in the car boot.
    â€˜In the back seat, Hunts.’
    Hunter looked around again. All he could see was the green frisbee. He looked at his dad.
    â€˜There’s a park near my place on the harbour. We can throw it.’
    â€˜I know what to do with a frisbee,’ Hunter said.
    His dad slammed on the brakes. A car in front had stopped to let a woman and two children cross at the zebra crossing. Mr Riley swore under his breath then checked his watch. Hunter wondered how long they could throw a frisbee.
    He reached across Hunter to the glove box and flicked it open. Mr Riley pushed the road atlas aside and picked up a roll of mints, offering one to Hunter. Hunter shook his head. His dad flicked one mint from the packet and caught it in his mouth, looking at Hunter to see if he’d witnessed it. A car horn sounded behind them. The zebra crossing was free. Hunter’s dad changed into gear and raced away.
    They drove in silence to the park. The harbour water sparkled. Hunter’s dad leaned across and pointed to a row of apartments. ‘That’s where I’m staying,’ he said. ‘The top one on the left.’ Hunter looked up and saw the double doors open to catch the harbour breeze. On the balcony was an exercise machine and … a boogie board.
    His dad drove slowly along the street, looking for a car park.
    â€˜There’s one, Dad,’ said Hunter pointing to a shady spot, under a huge tree.
    â€˜No way, Hunts,’ he said. ‘Those trees drop things onto my car. We have to park out in the open.’ They drove