was in. There were so many nights
he would stumble into my room
thinking it was his and kick me out
of bed and pass out. I’d yell at him,
but it was like talking to a zombie.
I’d go sleep on the couch.
He’d get wasted with his crew
in the backyard every evening after
work, and many nights he’d end up
fighting with one of them. Someone
would say something Abel didn’t
like, and he’d beat the shit out of
him. The guy wouldn’t show up for
work Tuesday or Wednesday, but
then by Thursday he’d be back
because he needed the job. Every
few weeks it was the same story,