Read Online Flood by James Heneghan - Free Book Online Page A

back in the center of the table, frowning and muttering to himself, “The milk will have to hold them.” He grasped the bottom of the window, slid it up, and climbed out onto the wet fire escape.
    â€œHey! Where are you going?”
    Vinny popped his head back inside and grinned. “Business.”
    â€œWhy are you going out that way?”
    â€œFresh air. See you later, darlin’.”
    â€œYou haven’t washed, Vinny,” Andy called after him. “Or cleaned your teeth. Or shaved. And you haven’t hadyour cup of tea.” Hut he’d had plenty of whiskey, he remembered. He leaned out the window and watched his father worriedly as he diminished in size, climbing down the iron steps. Andy hadn’t washed either, and in all the excitement had forgotten to tell Vinny about the cockroaches. He slipped into his sneakers, grabbed his jacket, climbed out the window into the rain, and clanged his way down the rickety metal fire escape, hands sliding down rusted metal handrails while loose anchor bolts shifted and groaned in the crumbling concrete and the ancient structure shuddered and shifted with his weight as he hurried after Vinny. After his father. After Dad.

    They scrambled down the fire escape after the boy.
    â€œâ€˜Twas dreadful cold out here,” complained a Young One who had been trapped in a box of cigarette cartons on the fire escape when Vinny closed the window.
    â€œServes you right for sleeping in boxes,” said another.
    â€œBoxes are warm.”
    â€œBoxes get moved.”
    â€œIt was I who closed the curtain so the police couldn’t see — “ began another proudly.
    â€œYes, well done,” the Old One interrupted impatiently. “Now hurry! Keep your eyes on the boy.”

9
    HE SPOTTED HIM hurrying out of Noonan’s. “Wait up, Vinny!” he yelled.
    But his father didn’t hear him, scuttling along, elbows flapping like the wings of a bird.
    The thin rain was cold on Andy’s face. As he hurried along behind Vinny, he noticed for the first time that his father had, not a limp exactly, but a slight dip, or tilt, on his right side, as if one leg was a bit shorter than the other. Vinny tilted.
    The street was busy with pedestrians and traffic. Andy had to dodge around people. He ran and caught his father waiting at a corner for the light. “Wait, Vinny. I’ve got to talk to you.”
    Vinny smiled. “There’s altogether too much talk in the world already, Andy. It’s what causes most of the trouble.” He looked left and right.
    â€œI want to talk about… about…” Andy was confused. It was Vinny’s business that puzzled him: stale cigarettes. “What will happen if they don’t believe you didn’t steal thecigarettes and they send you to jail? Or they arrest you for selling without a license? Don’t you care?” Vinny walked fast. Andy almost had to run to keep up with him. “Stop and talk to me, Vinny.”
    Vinny turned sharply and disappeared into a pub called Ryan’s.
    Andy started to follow, but the stale smell of beer and smoke drove him back; he waited outside in the shelter of the doorway and watched people go by, leaning into the rain with their umbrellas.
    Vinny came back to get him. “Come in for a minute, will you? I want you to meet some friends. Come in.”
    He followed him in reluctantly.
    â€œThis is my Andy,” Vinny announced proudly to the men in the bar. “Aren’t I the most fortunate man in all the world?”
    The men crowded around enthusiastically and shook Andy by the hand or mussed his already mussed hair. Then they slapped Vinny on the back. “Sit down, Vinny, and I’ll buy you a drink,” said one of the men. “And the lad, too.”
    â€œI’ll wait outside,” said Andy, the smoke stinging his eyes.
    When Vinny reappeared some minutes later, he set off again, his raincoat a little