Just Another Job by Casey Peterson Page A

mimed an explosion going off in his head. “Boom.”
    “You’re such a dork. Alright, shut up. I’ll
bring something good.”
    A wind kicked the leaves out of the
eucalyptus tree that spread shade through most of Chris's backyard.
Chris loved barbecuing. He wasn't an expert, but the smell of
charcoal burning inches away on a sunny late afternoon cleared his
head. At least until he made his head swim just slightly with two
Newcastles on an empty stomach. But even with the small buzz and
loss of fine motor skill, Chris experienced these moments clearer.
The turning of meat at just the right moment to create a burnt
outside that complemented the juices trapped inside was felt rather
than timed out. His gut told him when it was done or when the corn
needed to be pulled off to cool down. And he listened and it
worked. But the biggest reason Chris pushed to cook his dinner over
an open fire so often was that the greatest stories were generated
in this platform. This was another thing he could feel. Whether it
was the tragic love drama put into such breathtaking measures by
Louise and Frank’s wife Gail, a school yard epic adventure by Gerry
and Frank’s son Simone, the live staging of powerful personalities
in Sadie and Frank, or Chris’s own fanciful myths about the origins
of everything. A barbecue created the best narratives. 
    “You better not forget my pineapple. And
don't grill it next to the hotdogs this time. I could taste it,”
said Sadie from her lawn chair.
    “Sure you could,” said Chris.
    “You better enjoy that beer. It cost me
eight fucking dollars for a six pack,” said Frank, as he handed
Chris a third bottle. “Like the new grill, by the way. You just
have to match the rest of your backyard to it.”
    “You calling my backyard ugly?” said
Chris.
    “Yes,” said Frank. “Don't burn my steak.
There better be some red left in the middle.” He walked over to
Gail, who was sitting next to Sadie in the second lawn chair Chris
owned. Frank kissed his wife on the cheek and jokingly offered
Sadie his beer.
    “Stop giving my husband beers. He's had
enough,” said Sadie.
    “Last one, I swear. They're too expensive to
waste any more on him,” said Frank.
    “Don't be a jerk,” said Gail, and slapped
Frank on the butt. “Check on Simone and the others please while
you're up.”
    “Yes ma'am,” said Frank, and saluted the two
ladies. He opened the sliding door to the house and stepped aside
quickly. Simone popped through the door wearing a plastic Captain
America mask and matching plastic shield. Gerry was next out the
door but with a Thor helmet and foam hammer. Frank watched the two
boys run across the grass and then disappear around the side of the
house. He made to walk into the house, but stepped back again to
let Louise through.
    Louise stared into her phone as her thumbs
punched letters with blinding speed to form a very important
conversation. Frank yelled at her hello and moved his hand over her
phone to block her vision. Louise instinctively slapped his hand
away and yelled a just as loud ‘hello’ back. Frank finally made his
way into the house. Louise sat on one of the few patches of grass
next to her mother and Gail to partially join the conversation.
    “Gerry hasn't touched those toys in years,”
said Sadie. “I have the cutest pictures of Chris and Gerry running
around the house pretending to fight evil villains together.”
    “Dork and dork junior,” said Louise.
    Sadie smiled knowingly at her daughter. “And
you had the cutest little Wonder Woman outfit that you used to
wear. You would beg daddy to pick you up and fly you around the
house. I'm sure I can find those pictures too.”
    Louise rolled her eyes. “At least I was
young, like four or something.”
    “Try seven.”
    “Whatever.”
    “You were cute then,” said Gail. “But now
you're becoming so beautiful. Texting a boyfriend?”
    “It's my friend Tiffany. She wanted to know
what happened to Dad. Everyone wants