Homeless Halfback
A young man talks to a couple of neighbors before leaving for school in this excerpt from my book "Homeless Halfback"
Billy Ray Suggs walked down the wooden steps outside Doris Austin’s trailer. Across the wide dirt path fronting another row of trailers two men sat in lawn chairs. Frayed brims on gimme caps protected their eyes from the morning sun. Two guys sitting in lawn chairs; it was a common sight in Milton, especially in the trailer park.
Holding a plastic cup aloft; one of the men yelled to Billy Ray. “Hey, come on over, and join us.”
“It’s seven twenty in the morning, what are you drinking?” said Billy Ray.
The shorter man scratched a light brown sideburn. “Aw, it’s just a little whiskey.”
Billy Ray walked across the dirt path. “Isn’t it a little early to be drinking whiskey? Don’t you guys work?”
The other man reached in a denim shirt pocket, and extracted a cigarette. “It’s a little early. We usually don’t hit the whiskey till about ten or so.” He nudged an ice chest with a scuffed boot. “But the beer’s not cold yet.”
The shorter man turned to his companion. “Hey, Derek, do we work?”
The man named Derek lit a cigarette. “I don’t know, Bud. I don’t think so.”
Bud took a sip from a plastic cup. “It don’t matter. I think its deer season, so we wouldn’t be working if we were working.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” said Billy Ray.
Bud belched. “You haven’t been drinking, and that’s why it doesn’t make sense.”
Derek extended the whiskey bottle to Billy Ray. “Go ahead; nothing like an eye opener to start the day.”
“No, thanks, I got a lot to do today.” said Billy Ray.
Bud grabbed the bottle, and added whiskey to his cup. “Busy day, huh kid?”
Billy Ray nodded. “I’m going to check out my mom’s trailer, and then I’m headed to school.”
Cigarette in hand, Derek stroked the edge of a droopy black moustache. “We saw your father last night.”
“Are you talking about that guy who lived with my mother?” said Billy Ray.
“It was that guy with the long, gray hair,” said Bud.
Billy Ray spat on the ground. “That was my stepfather.”
“Where does your father live?” said Derek. He placed the cigarette between his lips.
Billy Ray looked at his boots. “I don’t know. I’ve never met him.”
Derek pulled a long knife from a leather holster attached to his belt. He brushed the knife across the leg of his faded jeans. “I guess you’re one of them bastard kids, huh?”
Billy Ray balled his fists. “Don’t call me a bastard!”
Derek held up the knife. “Take it easy, kid. About half the people in this town are bastards. Hell, I didn’t meet my father until I was twenty-six.”
Bud examined the contents of his cup. “Your mother was pretty. Derek and I never could figure why she married that guy. Did he have a lot of money?”
“No, he didn’t have anything. He just mooched from my mother,” said Billy Ray.
Derek returned the knife to the holster. “He was a strange dude.”
Billy Ray Suggs walked down the wooden steps outside Doris Austin’s trailer. Across the wide dirt path fronting another row of trailers two men sat in lawn chairs. Frayed brims on gimme caps protected their eyes from the morning sun. Two guys sitting in lawn chairs; it was a common sight in Milton, especially in the trailer park.
Holding a plastic cup aloft; one of the men yelled to Billy Ray. “Hey, come on over, and join us.”
“It’s seven twenty in the morning, what are you drinking?” said Billy Ray.
The shorter man scratched a light brown sideburn. “Aw, it’s just a little whiskey.”
Billy Ray walked across the dirt path. “Isn’t it a little early to be drinking whiskey? Don’t you guys work?”
The other man reached in a denim shirt pocket, and extracted a cigarette. “It’s a little early. We usually don’t hit the whiskey till about ten or so.” He nudged an ice chest with a scuffed boot. “But the beer’s not cold yet.”
The shorter man turned to his companion. “Hey, Derek, do we work?”
The man named Derek lit a cigarette. “I don’t know, Bud. I don’t think so.”
Bud took a sip from a plastic cup. “It don’t matter. I think its deer season, so we wouldn’t be working if we were working.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” said Billy Ray.
Bud belched. “You haven’t been drinking, and that’s why it doesn’t make sense.”
Derek extended the whiskey bottle to Billy Ray. “Go ahead; nothing like an eye opener to start the day.”
“No, thanks, I got a lot to do today.” said Billy Ray.
Bud grabbed the bottle, and added whiskey to his cup. “Busy day, huh kid?”
Billy Ray nodded. “I’m going to check out my mom’s trailer, and then I’m headed to school.”
Cigarette in hand, Derek stroked the edge of a droopy black moustache. “We saw your father last night.”
“Are you talking about that guy who lived with my mother?” said Billy Ray.
“It was that guy with the long, gray hair,” said Bud.
Billy Ray spat on the ground. “That was my stepfather.”
“Where does your father live?” said Derek. He placed the cigarette between his lips.
Billy Ray looked at his boots. “I don’t know. I’ve never met him.”
Derek pulled a long knife from a leather holster attached to his belt. He brushed the knife across the leg of his faded jeans. “I guess you’re one of them bastard kids, huh?”
Billy Ray balled his fists. “Don’t call me a bastard!”
Derek held up the knife. “Take it easy, kid. About half the people in this town are bastards. Hell, I didn’t meet my father until I was twenty-six.”
Bud examined the contents of his cup. “Your mother was pretty. Derek and I never could figure why she married that guy. Did he have a lot of money?”
“No, he didn’t have anything. He just mooched from my mother,” said Billy Ray.
Derek returned the knife to the holster. “He was a strange dude.”
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