Read Online North American Lake Monsters by Nathan Ballingrud - Free Book Online

honestly to consider it. Finally she said, “Not to the race, maybe. But to me. Do you care about me, Nickie?”
    “Yeah,” he said; then, more forcefully: “Yes. You’re the only thing I care about.”
    “Let me come over tonight.”
    “Oh, Trix, I don’t think so.”
    “Please. You never let me see where you live.”
    Nick watched his boss come closer, standing in the middle of the dining area and staring at him openly. “It’s so fucked up over there. I mean, you just don’t know.”
    “I thought you said you cared about me.” When he didn’t respond, she said, “We’re at a major turning point in our relationship, Nickie. You gotta let me come over. Otherwise I don’t know what to think.”
    He considered a moment. “Fine,” he said. “Come over. But my mom is crazy.”
    “I know, you told me.”
    “No, I mean really fucking crazy. So, whatever. Come over if you want. But you’re not gonna want to stay.” He nodded at Mr. Bright and said, “Look, I gotta go. Emperor Zog is looking at me like I stole a nickel.”
    “I’ll see you tonight,” she said, and hung up the phone.
    When he walked back into the kitchen, Big Jake chucked him on the arm. “Boss Man must like you,” he said.
    “Funny, it don’t seem that way to me.”
    “Trust me. My wife call me, she got to be havin a baby before he even think about comin back here.”
    Tyrone shook his head and made a noise of disbelief. “One thing you don’t need is no more babies,” he said.
    Big Jake laughed. “I know you right!”
    “What you got, big man, roun’ forty?”
    The two men laughed and began to banter, and just like that Nick passed from their attention, like an amusing notion considered and discarded. He picked up his chef’s knife and went back to work on the garlic. “Maybe you stop havin so many kids, you won’t have to work three jobs,” he said sullenly.
    They stopped talking.
    “What you say?” Tyrone said, squinting curiously at him, as though trying to figure out what variety of lunatic he was faced with.
    Tyrone was only a few years older than Nick; he had grown up in the St. Thomas project before the city tore it down and kicked everybody out. He and Nick worked all right together as long as they didn’t talk directly to each other.
    Nick stopped what he was doing and looked at him. “I’m just saying use some fucking common sense. That’s why my paycheck is so fucking small every week, ’cause the government’s gotta take care of y’all’s goddamn kids.”
    “Oh, shit! ”
    “This ain’t even about you, T,” said Nick. “Jake’s the daddy. I’m talking to him. Be responsible, dude, that’s all.”
    “What you think workin three jobs is , bitch?” said Tyrone.
    Big Jake put a hand on Tyrone’s shoulder. “This ain’t the place,” he said. Then he pointed one massive finger at Nick and said, “You better settle down, man. Your young ass got no idea what you even talking about.”
    Nick nodded and returned his attention to the garlic. “It’s cool, Jake.”
    After that, the kitchen was mostly quiet until two-thirty, when Nick’s shift ended. He punched his timecard and signed it; when he turned to leave he found himself staring at Tyrone, who’d come up behind him and left him no room to edge around. Nick took a reflexive step backward and was brought up short by the time clock. He’d thought that after the incident at Derrick’s place he would be anxious for a chance to redeem himself, but now that he was faced with a real confrontation, he felt his body quail. He became powerfully aware of how much larger Tyrone was than himself, and how many awful things could happen to a person in a kitchen.
    But he pressed up to Tyrone until their chests were touching and their faces were only inches apart, in a kind of grotesque intimacy. “What you wanna do?” he said.
    “Nazi motherfucker,” Tyrone said. “You get in my face sometime. See how it go for you then.”
    “What you wanna do,