121
TEARS IN MY ALGABEER
be the same old litany. The curses. The self-pitying. I damned Denver Larrecq. I damned my brothers and sisters, who’d put together effective ordinary lives for themselves. I damned Daddy for having talent and mak-ing me think—without ever saying it straight out to me—that I could do what he did. I damned Mama, because why not?
Suddenly I wanted to go out, hit some dives. I remembered Emmie was gone. The urge to go didn’t leave. I would go wail in public, do the sackcloth and ashes bit. A grin cut my face, making my teeth hurt. I needed to punish myself for the s**t dud failure I was.
Algie stood in my way when it was plain I meant to take the trike.
“You’re too drunk to drive.”
“No such thing.”
“Take a sobe-tab. Or I’ll drive you wher-ever you want to go.”
