Short Stories: The Broken Globe.

My second short story, ill keep them coming guys, i know u love reading ! 

My brother Timmy’s Halloween party started with a parade of high school guys, six packs in hand, piling out of rusted pick-up trucks and climbing the stairs over the garage into a smoky room where loud music blasted through tall free-standing speakers.

     I don’t know how he finagled the presence of Diane, cheerleader, since my brother floated with the vocational trade students and not that heady jock circle. But she was there, along with three of her not-quite-as-cute girlfriends, one of whom brought Juanita, a plain and plump foreign exchange student from Mexico.

     Timmy had purchased a keg and strung black-and-orange crepe paper and balloons, tacking them to his ceiling with great care. He’d also vacuumed, and he must have powdered the shag carpet with baking soda or talcum because the place didn’t smell like the usual musty beer-soaked dish rag.

     After I’d settled into a bean-bag chair and hit the three-beer threshold, meaning once I’d reached three I couldn’t stop, Jim arrived. Don, his sidekick, followed immediately behind him wearing, of all things, creased pants.

     “What are you doing here?” I shouted to Jim, ignoring Don except to note he’d purchased a new pair of glasses with thick exactly rectangular lenses.

     “Your mother said you were up here.”

     “What?”

     “Your mother,” Jim yelled, pointing in the direction of Mom’s house, then pointing to me.

     For a few minutes one of my brother’s friends, who’d brought the latest record from a metallic-sounding Southern rock band, cranked up the volume. Several of them joined in the refrain.

     “My brother’s throwing a Halloween party.”

     “Looks like high school.”

     “Hard to pass up a keg.”

     “Huh?”

     “Want a beer?”

     “Sure.”

     I walked over to the keg where my brother and a couple of his cronies stood guard.


     “You mind if they have a beer?” I asked my brother.

     Timmy glanced at them, glanced at me, shrugged, then went back to sizing up Diane and the girls huddled together in a giggling clique. I expertly filled three plastic cups to capacity, minimum foam, as if I had a certificate in bartending.

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