The following rather provocative short is an excerpt from my book Jigs & Tales of Bawdry, the ebook version of which will be FREE on Amazon from Wednesday, May 3, through Sunday, May 7. Download your copy today and please remember to rate and review the book on Amazon, Goodreads, and BookBub.
“Apologize!”
“What for?”
“You know what for, you hellion! Apologize this instant!”
“No,” said Ezra. “I won’t.”
“Oh,” said his father, moving towards him menacingly, “I think you will.”
“You better think again,” said Ezra under his breath.
“I heard that! How dare you speak to me that way!” His father was now standing directly in front of him.
“Get out of my face,” said Ezra.
His father grabbed him by the arms and shook him.
Ezra’s mother, who had been observing this scene in silence, timidly interjected: “Be careful, Earl! Don’t hurt him!”
“Hush, Carol! I’m teaching the boy to respect his father!”
“You don’t deserve any respect,” Ezra blurted defiantly, struggling to break free.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
“Say it again, big man!”
“I said you don’t deserve any fucking respect!”
“You ungrateful little shit!” Ezra’s father hurled his son into a bookcase. Ezra fell to the floor and clutched his shoulder. His father hovered over him. “Get up!” he shouted.
“Earl, stop!” cried Ezra’s mother.
Ezra slowly raised himself to his feet and looked directly into his father’s face. “You know what, old man? I think it’s time for me to get the fuck out of this house!”
His mother screamed hysterically: “No, no, no! Earl, don’t let him go!”
His father ignored his mother and taunted him: “Yeah, that’s right! Go ahead and leave, you damned fool! You think you’re Elvis Presley or something?”
“More like John Lennon,” replied Ezra.
“Well, you look like a faggot with that long hair and earring!”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Go on, punk! Get out of here and don’t come back!”
“Don’t worry, I won’t, you sanctimonious hypocrite!”
Ezra’s elder brother, home for the weekend from Dallas Theological Seminary, had been lurking in the background. He now spoke in order to admonish his younger sibling: “The Apostle Paul said: Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. You have lost your way, brother.” He then grasped his parents’ hands, closed his eyes, and began to pray.
Shaking his head, Ezra looked at the other members of his so-called family and said: “You’re all out of your goddamned minds!”
“Don’t you blaspheme in this house!” shouted his father.
Ezra left the living room, grabbed his denim jacket from a chair in the hall, and slammed the front door behind him.
His friend Steve had been waiting in the driveway with his engine idling. “What took you so long?” he asked.
“A little family drama,” said Ezra. He got into the old Volkswagen Beetle and asked in turn: “Do you think your dad will mind if I crash at your place for a while?”
“Hell no,” said Steve. “You can have the guest bedroom.”
“Thanks, man,” said Ezra.
Steve backed the VW out of the driveway and the two friends were off. Steve’s father was staying at his girlfriend’s place, so they had the house to themselves. They drank a case of wine coolers, smoked a bong, and played records from Steve’s father’s impressive collection of LPs. The stereo with the big speakers rattled the windows with Axis: Bold as Love, Hunky Dory, After the Gold Rush, and Raw Power until the police arrived to inform the boys that the neighbors did not appreciate this unsolicited serenade.
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