Page 2 of Bozo

Finally, Dad sighs heavily. "Alright, kid. Let's say you're right. What do you think we should do?"

I look up, surprised. Dad's never asked for my opinion before. "Well," I say slowly, "if we could make more money..."

“How?” Mam whispers. “How do you expect us to make money, honey? We’re struggling. We’re already spread thin enough. None of us are able to get a better paying job, let alone both of us taking on more hours. We’re struggling with the workload and lack of money as it is.”

“When Dad plays cards, I could go with him again,” I suggest. I learned how to count the cards while he plays Blackjack. Iwatched as an old man did it at the casino when dad was there. He was drunk and explained the general rules to me. I’ve always been good with numbers, so it didn’t take me long to understand what he meant. Soon I was able to count the cards. I’m really good at it now.

I see Dad’s eyes light up. “You think you can earn me money, boy?”

I glance back down at the castle and nod.

“We don’t have any money,” Mam whispers. “We can’t afford to lose any.”

"We won't lose," I say quietly, still fiddling with my Lego bricks. "I can count the cards. I've been practicing."

Dad leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "What do you mean, you've been practicing?"

I shrug, not meeting his gaze. "When you play with your friends at the casino, I’m beside you. I count the cards in my head."

There's a long pause. I can feel the tension in the room, thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Craig," Mam says, her voice trembling. "You can't possibly be considering this. He's just a child!"

Dad ignores her, his eyes fixed on me. "How accurate are you, boy?"

I finally look up, meeting his gaze. "Very."

Dad's lips curl into a slow smile, one I've never seen before. It's not a nice smile. "Well, well," he says, leaning back in his chair. "Looks like we might have found our miracle after all."

"No," Mam says firmly. "Absolutely not. I won't let you drag him into this."

"Maggie," Dad says, his voice suddenly soft, persuasive. "Think about it. We're drowning here. This could be our way out."

"By exploiting our son?" Mam's voice rises. "By teaching him to gamble?"

"It's not gambling if you know you're going to win," Dad argues. He turns back to me. "What do you say, boy? Want to help your old man out?"

I look between them, torn. I want to help. I really do. But Mam looks so scared, and Dad... Dad looks excited in a way that makes me nervous.

"I... I don't know," I stammer.

"You don't have to decide now," Dad says, standing up. "But think about it, okay? This could change everything for us."

As he leaves the room, Mam comes over and pulls me into a tight hug. "Don't worry, honey," she whispers. "We'll figure something out. You just focus on being a kid, okay?"

I nod, but as I hug her back, I can't help but think about the numbers. About how long it would take to pay off our debt. About how much we could win if I helped Dad at the card games. And I wonder, not for the first time, if being just a kid is a luxury we can't afford anymore.

I’m almost finished buildingmy castle, mam is in the bath. She said she needed some peace and quiet and dad’s been drinking. I’ve kept to myself, not wanting to anger dad any further than he already is.

“Come on, boy,” Dad says, grabbing my T-shirt by the collar and dragging me out of the house. “What your mam doesn’t know won’t hurt her. We’re going to make some money.”

I stumble as Dad pulls me along, my heart racing. The cool night air hits my face as we step outside. Dad's grip on my collar is tight, almost painful.

"Dad, I don't think—" I start to say, but he cuts me off.

"Shut it," he growls. "You said you could do this, so you're gonna do it. We need this money."

We reach his beat-up old car, and he roughly shoves me into the passenger seat. The familiar smell of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener hits my nostrils as Dad gets in and starts the engine.

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