“Dad,” I groaned, nearly buckling under his weight. “You have to help me out here. I can’t carry you by myself. Use your legs.”

I took a taxi to get us home, because walking was out of the question. The taxi dropped us off outside the trailer. Dad fell asleep on the way and was now barely able to get out of the car, let alone walk. His eyes closed again, and I struggled to hold him up.

This wasn’t going to work. I needed help and money to pay for the cab. Stepping away from him, I slowly let go of his waist and he slid to the ground. Not fazed at all with his new position, he curled up and started snoring. If only this was the first time he’d gone to sleep outside his trailer.

With a deep sigh, I stepped over his body and navigated my way past the plants and random pots Uncle Des kept in front of his trailer. I noticed a giant hedge that had been added to his collection, wondering what he planned on doing with it. It also looked like it had been chopped in places.

I knocked on his door as hard as I could in the hopes I could wake him up. He was just as heavy a sleeper as Dad. “Des, open up. I need your help.”

A light came on, and Des’s unruly mop of brown curly hair appeared in the doorway. “Whadda ya doin’ here, sweetheart? Shouldna you be in bed gettin’ ya beauty sleep?” He was still half asleep and mumbled his words more than usual. I had to listen closely to understand what he was saying.

“I’d love to do just that, but Dad’s passed out on his front lawn. Can you give me a hand to move him inside?” I moved back toward the snoring form on the ground. “And do you have thirty dollars I could borrow for the taxi?”

Des scratched his head in confusion. “I thought he wasna goin’ out t’night. He promised.”

“He promises a lot of things. But when have you ever actually seen him follow through? My tree house? Two planks aren’t enough to make a tree house. My old sandbox he was supposed to get rid of? Still there. And don’t get me started on the kitchen table. Three legs, the missing one has been replaced with books. And all he has to do is get some glue and put the missing leg back on.”

“Rightio. Gotcha. Let’s get him inside.”

We silently made our way to the sleeping form on the lawn. Des paid the cab fare before joining me at Dad’s side. “Garret, man, wake up. Ya sleepin’ on the ground again.”

As expected, there was no response from Dad. I had done this many times before, and there was only one way to wake him up when he was passed out. With a resigned sigh, I made my way over to the outside tap and filled one of the old buckets lying around the yard. Only when it was nearly spilling over was I satisfied. It was a sad truth that we’d need more than a few drops.

There was no time to waste if I wanted to get any sleep tonight, so once I was close enough I dumped the entire thing on Dad. He immediately shot up, spluttering. “What? Who? What did I miss?” he yelled, wiping the water out of his eyes.

We helped him up and managed to drag him inside his trailer. We didn’t quite make it to the bedroom, but the couch would do just fine. At least he was inside. He slumped in on himself and was passed out again as soon as his butt hit the cushion.

I looked at his still form, tears forming in my eyes. I hated having to do this over and over again. Every time he promised it wouldn’t happen again, I would get another call. The longest he had ever made it without an incident was three weeks. Three measly weeks.

Des knew how much Dad’s behavior upset me and put his arm around my shoulders like he’d done many times before. I needed more than a one-armed hug and turned into him, holding on tight and sniffling into his shoulder.

“There, there, girlie. No need to cry. He’ll be right’s rain t’morrow.” Des didn’t do well with tears and awkwardly patted my back. After allowing myself a moment to wallow in self-pity, I straightened back up. No need to cry about things I had no control over. One last wipe of my face on his shirt and I was ready to face the world again.

“Thanks, Des. I better get going.”

He walked me out to my bike that the cab driver had generously allowed me to take in the trunk of his car. It helped that I knew his mom. She used to be my fifth-grade science teacher.

Des put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly. “Take care, doll. It’s gonna be okay.” Always with the positive attitude.

Instead of answering, I got back on my bike and pedaled home.