Junior's Luck

Junior's Luck - Chapter 4

"You got drunk, but you didn't become an alcoholic?"

"I drank to have fun. People who drink to handle their problems become alcoholics. There's a difference."

"But you said it's no fun to get drunk."

"It's not and you shouldn't get drunk. You don't have to get drunk when you drink. Just don't drink too much. What's got you asking all these questions, anyway?"

"Uh, nothing. Some guys at school said it was cool to get drunk."

A group of soldiers dressed in camouflage fatigues moved past the truck on either side, pushing and shoving each other, shouting and howling. One stopped by the driver's side window, peered in through cupped hands, and rapped on the glass with his knuckles. Kelsey's father rolled down the window.

"Had a pickup like this back home," the soldier said. "Is it for sale?"

Kelsey's father shook his head. "Sorry."

The soldier nodded back, then hustled off to catch up with his friends.

Kelsey's father cranked up the window.

"Was that guy drunk?" Kelsey asked.

"No, not yet."

"Did Mom make you stop drinking?"

"Not really. I spent my time with her instead of the guys I used to hang around and drink with. Your mother didn't drink, so I didn't either. We didn't need alcohol to have a good time. We enjoyed each other's company."

"But she lets you have a beer sometimes."

Kelsey's father chuckled and ruffled Kelsey's hair. "I enjoy a beer once in a while," he said. "It's refreshing. Your mother doesn't have anything to do with it‌. I'll be right back." He got out of the truck and headed into the bar.

It turned out the owner kept the empties and recycled them for extra profit. Kelsey and his dad moved on to the next bar and the next. Most of the owners recycled and wouldn't cooperate, but here and there, Kelsey's father struck a deal. He'd come get Kelsey, who waited in the truck, and they'd toss the bags of cans into the bed of the pickup.

"You'll have to come with me every day," Kelsey's father told him. "They'll only hang onto a day's worth at a time. If we don't pick them up, they'll throw them out."

"How much can we get for the cans?"

"By doing this every day, we might pick up a couple of hundred bucks a week."

"That's not very much," Kelsey said. He tried to divide one hundred thousand dollars by two hundred in his head, but wasn't sure if it came out to five hundred weeks or five thousand. Either way, Junior didn't have the time. He needed the operation as soon as possible. The drugs might quit working any day.

"What do you mean, not very much? Two hundred dollars is a lot of money. We should keep this up after your friend recovers."

"But Junior needs a hundred thousand dollars or he won't get the operation and he'll die."

Kelsey felt he betrayed his friend whenever he said the word die, as if he were passing sentence on Junior. If no one said the "D" word, maybe Junior would live.

What happened when a person died? Kelsey couldn't imagine it. He figured it must be a terrible thing because everyone dreaded it, except Junior.

Although Junior talked casually about coming back as a ghost, he never discussed the subject of death. When he told Kelsey his disorder might be fatal, Kelsey acted sad because that was how a person was supposed to react to bad news. But the news did not make him sad. Junior was still there, still alive and unafraid. Nothing had changed. Kelsey didn't believe Junior was going to die. And Kelsey didn't think Junior believed it, either.