Read Online Love and Hydrogen by Jim Shepard - Free Book Online

help.”
    â€œWould you go back to your room?” his mother asked. “I’ll come tuck you in in a minute.”
    On his way back down the hall he stopped in the bathroom. He stood over the toilet in the dark but couldn’t pee. “Go to bed,” his father said.
    In bed his covers came off the foot of the mattress, and his toes stuck out. He tried to kickbox the sheets back into place.
    There was a sound on the floor like a stick in gravel. “The dog threw up again,” he called.
    He heard his mother padding down the hall. “Oh, jeez,” she said, from the doorway.
    She turned on the light, and he had to roll his face into the pillow. “Oh, Geoff,” she called.
    His father came quickly down the hall. Anson tried to rush getting his eyes used to the light so he could look. He hung over the bed. Shitface was on his side. Ropy saliva and blood looped over his nose and whiskers. More was soaking the rug under his chin.
    His father moved his mother’s hands away from the dog’s mouth and put his hand on the rib cage, feeling for something. “Get me a blanket,” he said. She got up off her knees and went down the stairs.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with him?” Anson asked.
    â€œHe’s not doin’ too good,” his father said. “You’re not doin’ too good, are you, pal?” he said to the dog.
    The dog sounded like he was clearing his throat, and gave a little shake. Anson’s mother came back upstairs with an old wool blanket, and his father took it and laid it on the rug behind the dog. Then he got ahold of the skin of the dog’s neck and butt and slid him over onto the blanket. The dog barely seemed to notice. His father flapped the two ends of the blanket over, dug his arms underneath, and lifted.
    â€œComin’ through,” he said, and carried him downstairs.
    They heard him open the back door with one hand and shut it behind him with his foot. They heard the car doors open and close, and the car start up and drive away.
    His mother stood where she was. She rubbed her eyes.
    â€œI wasn’t happy with the way
I
looked in school,” she said.
    He started to get teary. He was the biggest pussy who ever lived.
    â€œWhat do you think Grandma would’ve said if I’d said I wasn’t going because I didn’t like the way I looked?” she asked.
    He looked at his hands. If he didn’t stop crying at the count of three, he was going to punch himself so hard he’d cave his face in. “Grandma told me looks aren’t everything,” he finally said.
    His mother turned out his light and stood at the top of the stairs. “So isn’t that true?” she said.
    â€œWe hadn’t been talking about looks,” Anson said. “She just brought it up out of nowhere.”
    His mother laughed. She came back to his bed and gave him a kiss. She kissed him again on the mouth. “I think you’re the beautiful one,” she whispered.
    He snorted, so happy she’d said that.
    â€œGood night,” she said. At the bottom of the stairs, she turned off the light in the stairway.
    He listened. The furnace kicked on. Someday his cheeks and chin would catch up, he thought. Maybe his nose and bug eyes were just adult-sized, and the rest of his face would catch up.
    He went downstairs without making noise, though he wasn’t trying to be quiet. His mother was on the sofa in the dark, facing the TV. The TV was off.
    â€œHey,” he said.
    â€œHey hey,” his mother answered.
    His pajama bottoms didn’t have any pockets. He put his hands on his thighs. “I cleaned the rug,” he said. “Good as I could.”
    She nodded.
    He turned on the lamp near the TV table so he could look through the videos. The babysitter had messed them all up.
    â€œYou worried about Shitface?” he asked.
    â€œYeah,” his mother said.
    â€œPut on your movie,” she said.