Read After Dark for Free Online Page A

tired, too,” I said, stretching.
    â€œThat’s impossible, Charlie,” Mom said. “You spent the entire day asleep in the truck.”
    â€œIt’s been a hard week.”
    â€œHow’d this year’s Olympiad go?” Johnny asked.
    â€œIt ended abruptly.”
    â€œShow Johnny where the pizza is, and then show him up to his room,” Mom said. “It’s right across the hall from yours. I’m going back to bed. I’m dead on my feet.”
    â€œSure thing, Mom. I might even dip into that bottle of mustard while I wait.”
    â€œYou kill me, bro,” Johnny said, as we headed for the kitchen. “You kill me.”

Saturday, 8:05 a.m.
    I woke up to the sound of birds squawking. I figured there must have been about a hundred of them sitting outside my window. I rolled over in bed and tried to go back to sleep, but they wouldn’t let up. It was like having an alarm clock with no snooze button. After a few minutes, I got up, grumbled my way over to the window and pulled up the wooden blinds. Instead of a flock of birds, there were only three little gray feather-balls outside, standing on the edge of the roof that was overhanging the porch below. I pounded on the window, and they turned and looked up at me with their black eyes. I pounded on the glass again. They stood their ground and stared.
    â€œI’m trying to get some sleep in here!” I shouted.
    They chirped at each other a couple of times, just to irritate me, and then flew away. I watched them flap across the front yard and land in one of the huge trees growing on the other side of the lawn. Then they went back to their squawking.
    I closed the blinds and was making my way back to bed when Johnny burst in.
    â€œRise and shine, bro!” he cried, stomping across the room and throwing open the blinds again. “Let’s get some grub!”
    â€œIt’s summer vacation,” I said, flopping into my bed. “Why are we waking up with the freaking birds?”
    â€œUp with the birds? You kill me, Chuck. The birds have been awake for, like, four hours. It’s eight in the a.m.”
    â€œGet me some takeout and leave it outside my door. I don’t do breakfast in the summertime. I do brunch, like any civilized human being.”
    â€œGet up, Charlie, we’ve got work to do,” Mom said, rushing in. “This is the start of our new life.”
    â€œI liked our old life,” I said, putting the pillow over my head. “We stayed at resorts with room service, we slept in and we didn’t renovate broken-down inns.”
    â€œGet dressed,” she said, pulling the pillow away from me, “or we’re going to carry you down to the truck in your underwear.”
    â€œCome on,” Johnny said. “I haven’t seen you since Christmas, bro. We have some serious catching up to do. Plus, I don’t want to see you in your underwear. Lilith’s pajamas were weird enough.”
    â€œWe can do it after 10:00 a.m.,” I said. “Now, make like a tree and scram!”
    â€œIt’s make like a tree and leave , bro.”
    â€œIt’s too early to argue about insults. Just go!”
    â€œCan you give us a minute alone, Johnny?” Mom asked.
    â€œYou bet, Ma,” he said and left.
    Mom closed the door behind him.
    â€œWhy can’t we just check into a hotel?” I groaned. “At least until the renovations are done. I mean, you’re not serious about us fixing up this place, right? I can barely tie my own shoes.”
    â€œWe can’t afford it, Charlie,” Mom said, sitting down on the end of the bed.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œThere’s no more money. It’s all gone.”
    â€œWhat? That’s impossible,” I said, sitting up. “Dad’s a bestselling author. He’s famous. I mean, he spends all his time giving those self-help, feel-good conferences to rich schmucks. He’s on a