Read Online Milk-Blood by Mark Matthews - Free Book Online Page A

like something had just passed me by, but I was alone on the sidewalk. My legs wanted to move, my chest wanted to stop, and my insides were torn. I thought about waving. But a soft male voice inside told me, Stop, there’s nothing here for you today , so I dashed across the street. The man watched, I could tell he was watching, but I was safe back home.
    I twisted the door knob, twice, both ways. It wouldn’t budge and was locked. I tried again with my weight moving left to right and right to left. Nothing. Maybe Dad was with Grandma at the doctors again. Or maybe she was asleep upstairs and he was gone. I could climb up the chimney and get on the roof and see if the upstairs window was open.
    Next door, Uncle Nelson’s porch was empty. His dark blue Ford Escort with the rust spot that looked like a scab was parked in front. The car was there, so Joey and Nelson should be home. My dad said I could go there if I had to so I did. I left my backpack on the porch and hoped nobody would take it.
    Unlike my house, their front door was cracked open. Knocking didn’t feel right, so I walked in slowly. The smoke of the warmer air surrounded me. I didn’t smell food. I smelled a fight coming.
    “Nelson, damn it, get your shit off the washer. I got to use it.”
    It was Auntie’s voice from downstairs. My eyes winced a bit at her screaming, but Nelson didn’t move from his spot on the chair. He saw me and smiled. Proud he wasn’t moving. Happy to see me back.
    “Fuck it , Nelson, your shit’s going on the ground,” Auntie screamed.
    I wanted to go downstairs myself and get the stuff off the dryer and help them both out, but instead I waited to see how he felt about me being here. He made a motion with his head for me to come in. The clothes he had on were the same as yesterday. His t-shirt barely hung over his arms and his pants needed a tighter belt.
    Joey was lying on a blanket with a mobile over his head. He had a bottle in his mouth but wasn’t drinking it, just clenching the plastic nipple between his teeth so that the bottle hung down his chin. I pushed some of the plastic pieces of the mobile around to make them spin. His eyes went from me, to the red fish floating above him, back to me again. When they spun real fast he’d smile and move his hands and legs like a roly-poly bug on his back.
    “Y ou got bleach on my blouse,” Auntie yelled from the basement.
    Nelson still didn’t move. I wanted him to do something. I needed to know if he had his medicine lately or not. A lighter and spoon was right next to him, I saw that right away, and he looked at me different than yesterday. His eyes didn’t scare me as much at his house than mine, like he didn’t need to scare me anymore. He smelled of smoke of all kinds, not just cigarettes but like a plastic pen was on fire. His bare feet stuck out of his pants, and one foot was swollen and purple. I wished he’d put socks on.
    “C ome here,” he whispered.
    I walked over, tiptoed really, ready to take part in this secret deal.
    “Ho ld out your arm. I know that’s what you want.”
    I didn’t want to say yes but my whole body was saying yes and there was nothing that could stop it. The memory of the pinprick from yesterday hadn’t left me all day. It made my skin think—like it had a mind and voice of its own and was saying YES . My heart thumped. Blood sizzled and shot through me. I laid out my arm and turned it to the underside. I was at his mercy. My veins stuck out through my blue-hued skin. I clenched my fist back and forth and moved my fingers like I saw him do yesterday. He made up his batch.
    I wanted him to hurry. I wanted my aunt to scream again from the basement again so I’d know she was still down there. If she walked up stairs he would have to stop. This would be over, and I’d be in trouble.
    I could hear Nelson breathe through his nose like he was snoring. It reminded me of the noise a sleeping dog makes. No sounds of footsteps from the basement.