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"Here take this one," Nadine said, took the heavy bag and handed Tyson her smaller parcel.

"Where's your car?" Ricky asked. He hadn't even noticed it was in the driveway when he got home.

"I didn't drive it today."

"It's broken," Tyson said.

"I can stop by tomorrow and take a look at it," Ricky said. "Do you want a ride home?"

"I have someone to take a look at it," she answered. "The bus stop's not far."

"Okay then."

He watched them walk up the sidewalk, Nadine's long quick stride and Tyson's running to keep up. Tyson would
look back and wave and Ricky would wave back, then Tyson would have to run to catch up. This went on until
they disappeared into the long low branches of the maples.

Ricky walked back into the house, flopped down on the sofa, repositioning the rattling floor fan so it blew right
in his face. He leaned back and closed his eyes but the constant rush of hot air did nothing to cool him.

"Didn't your mother tell you not to jump on the couch like that?"

"Geez! Dad don't do that." He jumped straight up, his foot slamming into the base of the fan. He could feel his
heart pounding.

Lee sat like an old buzzard poised to pounce - piercing blue eyes, a nose which had grown longer over the years,
a nonexistent hairline, and white tuffs of hair spraying from his ears.

"How long you been awake?"

"I was faking. Who the hell can sleep with all that racket around here? She gone?"

"Yeah."

"Help me up. I got to take a leak."

"I hope you don't talk like that in front of Nadie," Ricky said, knowing darn well he did.

He grabbed his father's arm and lifted him to his feet. Lee shuffled as best he could to the bathroom off the
kitchen. Ricky walked beside him trying to keep hold of his hand.

"Let go, I can walk by myself," he growled and jerked his arm away a little too fast. He lost his balance and
Ricky saw a look of fear and intense pain on his face.

"Oh God!" Ricky yelled and scrambled, catching him just before he tumbled over. A stack of newspapers slid
from the table onto the floor.

"You alright?"

"Darn this back."

Ricky grabbed his arm and this time Lee held on. Together they walked. Ricky noticed he mimicked the same
dragging stride as his father and had to consciously think to walk normal. Lee stopped at the bathroom door and
looked at Ricky.

"I can still do this by myself. I'll call you when I'm done."

He threw up his hands in surrender and walked back into the living room. He picked up the newspapers lying on
the floor and stacked them back on the end table. He switched the channel and fell back on the couch. He heard
the toilet flush and the shuffling get louder until Lee was back in his chair. Ricky noticed his fly wasn't zipped
but didn't say anything.

"What'd you change the channel for?" Lee lit up a cigarette.

"I thought you'd like to watch the news?"

"No." Lee answered. "War, war protesters, draft dodgers. Disrespect for this country. That's what's on. No need
to watch it."

"Why not?" Ricky asked.

"It's all bullshit that's why. Back in my day, young kids had more respect. Now, hell they don't even respect
themselves, let alone the good old U.S. of A. Just look at them, long hair, baggy clothes . . . makes me sick, it
does."

"Oh dad, come on. Don't you get tired of complaining about this?" Ricky asked, then wished he hadn't.

"You brought it up," Lee said. "And don't 'oh dad' me. There's not a law school in the state that will put up with
that attitude. Now, Raymond Burr . . . there's a lawyer that commands respect." Point made, Lee leaned back
puffed out his chest in victory.

Ricky slammed his hands on the sofa. This is exactly the reaction Lee wanted and he should have seen it
coming. He'd been shut up in the house all day and obviously starving for some type of interaction, needing to
argue with someone who wasn't on television. And did Ricky ever say he wanted to go to law school? Nope, not
that he could remember.