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ignored the pain and gone back to work. Losing the hours was about the shittiest thing that could have happened.
    My phone rang and I answered it.
    “Hey, Buddy, I was just going to leave a message. Aren’t you working?” Barrett asked.
    “I was until about thirty minutes ago. It’s a long story.”
    “Well, with you gone, I’m feeling the fifth wheel out here, so I’m heading back home today. Let’s go out drinking tonight.”
    “Nah, I think you’re on your own tonight, Rett. I’m not feeling it.”
    “Got ya. Call me if you change your mind.”
    “Later.”
    The boats bobbed up and down with the lazy summer tide. Charlie was sitting on deck with coffee and his newspaper. Piranha Pete was asleep in the shade of the deck chair.
    “That was a short shift,” he called from behind the paper.
    “Yep.” I reached the Zany Lucy. Charlie was a nice old guy, but I wasn’t in any mood to chat. I was still reeling from the morning’s events. Maybe next time Bill challenged me to a fight, I would take the asshole up on it.
    I stepped inside the small cabin and walked the three steps to the kitchen. I yanked out the bag of frozen peas that were inedible from having been thawed and refrozen a dozen times. They still made an effective ice pack. I walked into the bedroom, flopped down on the mattress and covered my hand with frozen peas.
    ***
    Dusk and an onshore breeze had whipped the tide into a frenzy, and the Zany Lucy lurched forward and backward, waking me from a deep sleep. I hadn’t taken time to open any windows, so the small bedroom was sweltering from the heat of the day.
    My shirt was drenched in sweat. I lifted my hand and the defrosted peas sloshed around the bag. I plucked it off and tossed it onto the floor. The entire ugly day came back to me as I stared at the swollen red mounds that’d once looked like knuckles. But the worst part of the day had been losing the hours on the dock. I would be without a shift for three days, and my bank account was drying up fast. I needed my hand to heal quickly so I could win the prize money at Tank’s.
    I got up and walked out onto deck to cool off. My stomach growled, but the only thing in the fridge was a carton of milk that was closer to being solid than liquid. I was in no mood to drive anywhere, so I pulled out my phone to order food. The day had blown up into a crapfest so fast, I’d completely forgotten my dad’s call. I dialed my voicemail with the usual irritation I felt whenever I had to listen to one of his messages. It was always a plea for me to get him more cigarettes or beer. Now that my mom had moved as far away from him as she could get without actually leaving the country, I’d become his personal gopher.
    “Dray,” his voice was rough and flatter than usual. “It’s Dad. I’m not feeling too good today. I think I need to get to a doctor.”
    “Shit.” I dialed the house, and there was no answer. “Just what I need.” I ran inside and grabbed a sweatshirt and my keys. Traffic would be fucking miserable at this time. He’d called hours ago, and now all I could think was that I should have listened to the damn message earlier.
    I frantically redialed my dad’s number all the way to the house but there was no answer. I had to remind myself that he could very well have been passed out drunk on the couch. I’d had trouble reaching him before.
    The house was dark as I pulled into the driveway, and his car was sitting in front of the garage. He always pulled it in at night.
    I fumbled for my keys and raced to the front door. The light from the cable box cast uneven shadows across the front room. I could see the top of his head over the back of the chair, and his hand was wrapped around a beer on the end table next to him.
    I released the breath I’d been holding and flicked on the lights. “Shit, Dad, why the hell didn’t you answer the phone?” The silence that followed grabbed me like an icy hand. The room seemed to grow darker, and