Vices and Virtues

“Isn’t that bad for a singer’s voice?”



Scott swore and went to put the cigarette out, but John just waved him off. Then he reached into his pocket and fished out a fresh pack of cigarettes, tapped them against his palm to pack them down.

“You won’t tell my father?”

John lit up, inhaled that first blissful burst of nicotine. “I’m not your father, kid. And I can’t really judge, can I?”

Scott took a cautious puff of his cigarette, slouched back against the wall to avoid being seen from the parking lot where his father was giving Bob a post-show dressing down. Again.

“But you wouldn’t let Carolyn smoke, would you?”

John laughed. “Kid, I haven’t let that girl do anything since she was five. She’s been smarter than me since she was three. I did my best to teach her what’s right and what’s wrong, and from there on out we negotiate.”

“Oh. So Carolyn chooses not to smoke?”

“That would about be the size of it.” John took another deep drag, exhaled. “Man, this is such a filthy habit. So hard to kick it. The next time I need to run a mile, Caro’s gonna leave me in the dust.”

Scott relaxed faintly, took another drag off his cigarette. “Sometimes, it’s just --”

“A little safer than drinking?”

Scott nodded.

John tipped his head in the direction of the parking lot where Kevin was still yelling. “He do that often?”

“Some days more than others.” Scott’s eyes darkened.

John prodded Scott lightly in the hip, ignored the boy’s wince and the bright spark of shock that blossomed across his face.

“Burning’s not safer than drinking, hm?”

Scott shifted away from John. “How did you know?”

John’s smile was bleak. “I wasn’t always a roadie, kid. A man never forgets the smell of burning flesh.”

“There’s no one I can tell,” Scott said. He stared down at his shoes. The cigarette dangled between his fingers, forgotten and slowly burning out. “I mean, he has custody of us, and Mom stopped seeing what he did long ago. Bobby’s my little brother, and there’s nothing I can do to protect him.”

“Punishing yourself when he’s being punished for the three of you ruins the entire point of having a single scapegoat, doesn’t it?” John dropped his cigarette to the ground, put it out with the heel of his boot.

The sound of flesh on flesh echoed sharply, and Scott closed his eyes.

John thought or a long moment, then tucked the pack of cigarettes into Scott’s pocket. “You need them more than me. Besides, the ones you bum off of Captain Lyle are cheap. You’ll at least die slower with this brand.”

Scott opened his eyes.

John turned away, rounded the corner. Before he was properly in eyesight of his employer and the child he was roundly disciplining, he cleared his throat.

“Hey Kevin, some of the venue crew’ve been giving me some guff about the soundboard.”

(497 words)