Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Preppy stood up but didn’t step off the tracks. The train was seconds away. “I can’t save you unless you want to be saved,” I said. “Get off the fucking tracks! I won’t have you die again! I won’t!”
“Go home, Doc,” Preppy repeated. Instead of stepping forward off the tracks he stepped backward onto the other side, the train missing him by inches. By the time it rolled by and I could see to the other side of the tracks, Preppy was gone.
Days went by with no sign of him. I let King and Ray know what happened and that he was missing again. We searched for him everywhere with no luck. My only hope was that he wasn’t hurting himself or playing dodge-a-train again. Little did I know the decision to stay or go was going to be made for me. My phone rang and Edna was on the other end, sounding panicked.
“Edna, what’s wrong?” I asked.
“It’s your father...he had a heart attack.”
“Is he...” The possibility too painful to even speak the word.
“They took him back a while ago. I have no idea.”
“I’m on my way,” I said, ending the call and grabbing my suitcase. I scribbled a note and left it on the counter just in case Preppy came back to the house.
I came to Logan’s Beach for closure. Instead, I was leaving the same way I left the first time.
With a broken heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
PREPPY
“Ray said you were back,” King said from the doorway of the garage apartment. “She also said you were shit faced.”
“She’s goooooone,” I sang. “Dre left and she’s not coming back.”
“I figured as much.”
“So lemme ask you an important question,” I slurred. “How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could...fuck chuck.” I held up my index finger. “Wait, who is Chuck and why is the woodchuck fucking him?” I slurred, sloshing amber liquid around in the bottle, missing my mouth entirely as I attempted to raise it to my lips. It dripped down my chin into my already liquor soaked beard. “I mean I’m not hatin’ cause Chuck should be free to fuck who he wants to fuck, and all that jazzzzzz."
King folded his arms over his chest, the buckles on the thick leather belts he wore around his forearms clanked together. “Prep, you’re fucking drunk.”
I clucked my tongue. “That ‘tis not be true, boss-man.” I squinted after another fuzzier version of King appeared beside him looking identically as irritated.
“Bullshit,” he scoffed, raising a scarred eyebrow down at me. “Don’t fucking lie to me. You’re off your ass wasted. I can smell you from here.”
“Nopers, you are wroooong, sirrrrrr.” I giggled, sounding like fucking chick, spilling more whiskey down my throat. I pointed toward my best friend with the neck of the bottle, it slipped from my hand and fell to the floor. I made an O shape with my mouth and my childish giggling turned into a fit of laughter as I slid down from the recliner and fell ass first onto the carpet. Deciding that the carpet, although now wet, was the softest and plushest thing I'd ever felt, I continued to slide down until I was flat on my back. I don't know how much time had passed, but when I finally looked up I found myself staring into two very angry sets of green eyes spinning around above me, like in one of those old cartoons where Bugs Bunny gets hit on the head and is suddenly being circled by little spinning blue birds.
"Yeah, not fucking drunk at all," both King's said sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest. The belts around his forearms clanked as the buckles connected.
“Listen you two motherfuckers,” I pointed between solid King to fuzzy King. “You're both wrong. I’m not JUST drunk.” I placed a finger over my lips and lowered my voice to a whisper. I looked around as if someone might overhear me. “I is also very VERY fucking high.”
“Pull your shit together, Preppy. We got kids around here now. I can’t have you high at eight in the morning or stumbling around while they’re fucking playing in the backyard.” King pointed to the blow on the table. “You can’t leave that shit around either. There is a safe in my shop and another hidden in the back closet. You can keep your stash there.”
I sat up, his mention of the kids finding it’s way through the haze and waking up a small part of my brain. “I’ve missed so fucking much,” I said, suddenly feeling a sadness wash over me. I wiped my runny nose with the back of my hand and realizing there was white powder residue on the back of it I licked it off. I shook my head. “I’ve missed everything.”
“Not everything, Prep,” King said crouching down next to me. “But you can fix that. Look out that window. Look at those kids. Go meet your nieces and nephew. Go talk to Bear’s girl and get to know her. Go insult Bear for fuck sake. I thought he was all torn up when we thought you were dead but I think he’s more torn up now that you’re back because you ain’t you.”