“Careful, boy. There’s a snake down there.”
Gavin peered over the edge of the dock. “That ain’t a snake, Pa.”
“You callin’ me stupid? Think I don’t know no snake when I see one?”
Gavin shook his head. “No, sir.”
“If it ain’t no snake what is it, Mr. Smarty-pants?”
Gavin shrugged. “Piece of a car-exhaust, maybe?”
“I’m so dumb I don’t know a snake from a piece of scrap metal? That it?”
Gavin looked down. “No, sir.”
His father’s palm connected with his cheek-hard enough to split his lip.
Gavin didn’t dare look up. He knew better.
—
Written for Friday Fictioneers.
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