Read Online Creeps by Darren Hynes - Free Book Online

you’ll change your mind—”
    â€œNot this time. This is for real.”
    Silence.
    The sound of something breaking, then his dad’s faraway voice: “Two Jesus beer!” and “Could have blinded me!”
    â€œI oughtta stay,” Wanda says then. “So he doesn’t burn down the house.”
    â€œSuit yourself,” his mother says. She looks at Wayne.
    He thinks of his notebooks filled with letters underneath clothes in his dresser, beneath his mattress, stuffed in boxes on the top shelf of his closet. How long to pack them all? he wonders. What about his clothes and books and whatever else he might need? Besides, Wanda’s right: she’ll come back. She always does.
    His mother turns and leaves the room and walks down the hall towards the kitchen and Wayne follows and considers the possibility that, this time, she won’t come back, so who’ll make the dumplings and molasses tarts and sweeten his tea just the way he likes it and make sure her husband brings home his cheque and that Wanda doesn’t listen to Nickelback at the table or drink more than three Diet Cokes a day and tell him he’s handsome and that, one day, he’ll have more friends than he’ll know what to do with?
    Now his mother’s in the kitchen and Wanda and he are beside her and she stops in front of their dad and says, “I need a ride.”
    His father takes the corn away, his cheek swollen to twice its normal size. “See what you did?” He squeezes his eyes from the pain and when he opens them they’re wet.
    â€œDid you hear me?” she says.
    â€œA ride? I can barely see out of my Jesus eye.”
    â€œJust need a foot and a hand to drive,” their mother says. “Or I’ll call a cab—
    â€œWayne, call me a taxi.” She turns back to her husband. “What? What’s so goddamned funny?”
    â€œNothing. Wayne, put ‘Working Man’ on for your mom—”
    â€œNo, you drunk bastard.”
    â€œDrunk?”
    â€œRita MacNeil is not going to fix it this time.”
    â€œTwo Jesus beer—”
    â€œI’ll never set foot in this house again—”
    â€œI’m more sober than you are.”
    â€œMore sober than I am—just listen to him, youngsters—”
    â€œNo call to hit me in the face—”
    â€œShoulda aimed for the temple—”
    â€œWhy didn’t ya—”
    â€œDon’t know—the frying pan is heavy.”
    Silence all of a sudden.
    His dad sets the corn on the table and then runs his fingers over his cheek as one would over a smooth stone while his mom goes into the foyer (followed by Wayne) and gets into her coat and boots. Wanda grabs another Diet Coke and then goes into the foyer, too.
    Finally, his father says, “Come back in, Ruth.”
    â€œFrig off, you. I’m heading to the train station now, aren’t I?”
    â€œNo trains tonight.”
    â€œThen I’ll go to Dot’s and leave in the morning.”
    His dad curses. “I’m sure that’s just what Dot and Frank want—you barging in with a packed suitcase and a snotty nose. They’ve got little ones, Ruth.”
    â€œDot and me are friends.”
    â€œNot for long, if you go over there.”
    His mother hesitates for a moment, then zips up her coat and says to Wayne, “Did you call a taxi?”
    Wayne goes to do it, but his mother’s voice stops him. “No, never mind, I’ll walk. Walk’ll do me good.”
    â€œIt’s freezing,” says his father.
    â€œNo one’s talking to you,” his mom says. She ties her laces and picks up her suitcase and gives Wayne and Wanda a look and says, “I’m fed up,” then pushes open the door and leaves.
    No one says anything.
    Wayne goes over and stands on his tiptoes and watches her through the window in the door. She’s standing in the middle of the street looking