When I was a kid, my dad would leave me alone in various places while he went off the drink.

The most frequent of these was a laundromat that happened to be across the street from his favorite local bar.

Sometimes he would take me to do the laundry

with him before telling me he had to step out for a few minutes. Dad would give me some quarters

for the arcade machine in the back of the laundry mat, one of those racing games with an attached steering wheel.

To be honest, I kind of liked being left at the laundromat.

I didn't have video games at home and the arcade machine was a nice escape. Anyway this story isn't about

the laundromat but the fact that I like that game so damn much might explain

why dad thought that Chester's kids own looked like a perfect place to leave me while he

drowned his sorrows.

I believe I was eight at the time.

I was stuck running errands with my father on a hot summer day, and he drove out to a hardware store located in a strip mall off the highway.

The strip mall consisted of two long run-down buildings which faced each other at a right angle.

Among the various businesses these buildings contained, all of which had seen better days,

was the dive fire at the end of the strip.

After we left the store,

Dad looked longly at the bar.

He wanted to go in, but he didn't know what to do with me.

I watched him reluctantly fight off temptation as we walked to the car.

Dad was putting the keys in the ignition when he paused, looking at something

in the distance.

At the end of one of the buildings tucked into an easy-to-miss corner of a a strip mall was a set of double doors

...