~31 minute read time
I been makin’ Maw a lot of sandwiches lately. I set the plate down on the table, the old sandwiches pilin’ up as I push ‘em aside and set the new one in front of her. She likes the crusts cut off. The bread skins are startin’ to pile up in the old milk crate I been puttin’ ‘em in, they’re overflowin’ out onto the floor, gettin’ all hard and flakin’ off in crumbs. I was gonna take ‘em down to the pond and dump ‘em out for the ducks, but I been nervous ‘bout leavin’ Maw at home alone, she gets lonely and she has trouble movin’ on her own now. And course there’s the other thing. He can’t be left alone neither. So I don’t leave the house much nowadays. ‘Sides, I’m also afraid of runnin’ into Paw, it’s been a few days since I last seen him. Each time is always harder than the last.
I saw him ‘fore he saw me. I was at Mr. Miller’s little grocery store pickin’ up more bread for Maw when I heard his voice poking out above the aisles. ‘Course I recognized it right away. He asked Mr. Miller if he had gotten any more of those special clementines in, sayin’ “My wife loves ‘em. She’s been beggin’ me to come ask ya’.” I felt my chest growin’ warm at the words ‘my wife’ and decided to just lay low next to the sourdough until he was gone. I closed my eyes for a moment, tryin’ to escape the feeling of my heart poundin’ in my throat when I heard a little shuffle next to me.
I opened my eyes and there in front of me was a little boy, ‘round seven or so. I put my index finger to my lips to tell him to be quiet. Our eyes locked in on eachother, both round and blue like the lake water in the summer heat. His limbs hung long and gangly at his sides and I could see his knobby knees pokin’ out the bottom of his grass-stained shorts. I felt captivated by his mussed brown hair and the way it curled at the nape of his neck.
“Junior?” The boy turned his head at the sound of his name and Paw walked towards us. “There you are, kiddo, I been lookin’ for ya’, it’s time to go.” He scooped him up into his arms and held his head against his shoulder, closin’ his eyes and kissin’ the top of his head ‘fore he noticed it was me. I watched the color leak out of his face as he said “Peter? That you?” His eyes swept over me, I was now almost taller than him, my back and arms had grown muscular with the summers of choppin’ wood and haulin’ lumber at the timber mill. My jaw had gotten sharper and I had been able to grow some facial hair. “My, you’ve grown so much.”
I cleared my throat and lowered my voice a bit, tryin’ not to let Paw think he had any kind of influence on me. I ain’t want to give him no reason to think he could take credit for what I’d accomplished. “Ted,” I nodded, “How’ve ya been?”
He seemed to struggle to find his words, “I’ve been alright, just came in to get Junior here a treat.” He gestured toward the boy who had by now laid his head on Paw’s shoulder, “He got a perfect score on his spellin’.” He smiled like you’d expect a proud father would and I had to do everythin’ I could to not break somethin’.
Forcin’ my lips into a smile I said, “Well, ain’t that splendid.”
Paw stroked the boy’s head and replied “Yeah, he’s a smart boy, he is. Sometimes I think he’s even smarter than me.”
Hearin’ this somethin’ in me snapped. Like a piece of glass that suddenly gets a crack. It starts small but you know the crack can’t bear no weight. It’s unsturdy, unreliable, reckoned to shatter any moment. “I’m sure he is,” I picked up my bread and began movin’ around him, “Well, I oughtta get goin’, Maw’s at home waitin’ on me.” He stepped to the side to let me pass sayin’,
“Tell her hello for me, Peter. Will ya?”
My jaw tensed, “Sure, I can do that.” I said, knowin’ good and well that I’d rather drop dead than do that. I wish I woulda told him ‘Go to hell’ I wish I woulda said ‘Yer outta yer damn mind if you think I’m tellin’ her anythin’ from you’. But I didn’t. I told him ‘Sure’, and I hated myself for sayin’ it. As I walked away I looked back at ‘em once more, the boy’s eyes were closed and Paw was carryin’ him around while he slept. I reached my hand to the back of my neck to finger the little curls that grew there, the same curls I could see on the boy’s neck, the same ones I could see on Paw’s.
That night I went home and shaved my head.
It ain’t always used to be like this. I remember when Paw would pick me up by my overalls and throw me onto his and Maw’s big bed. I’d squeal like piglets do when you set the slop bucket down and run back over to him sayin’ “Again, Paw! Again!” and he’d hoist me up and for a moment I felt like I weighed nothin’ at all. I felt like my body, which was beginnin’ to grow too fast for my clothes, had nothin’ to it. In those brief seconds I was just a set of eyes seein’ the world from a new height before I crashed down on it, red in the face and itchin’ like an addict for another taste. Happiness is a drug just the same as liquor or tobacco. Maw would shake her head with a smile sayin’,
“Teddy, yer playin’ too rough with him.” He smirked at her as he picked me up and threw me again all while I screamed the whole way.
“Aw Lacy,” he said, “you worry too much. Boys his age are like rubber, nearly unbreakable.” Paw was always like that, stubborn and a bit of a troublemaker. Him and Maw got hitched real young, Maw’s Paw didn’t like him much at all, datin’ his daughter and whatnot. But they was in love and that’s how the story went. Paw bought a house at 18 and they moved in togither and I was born not long after that. ‘Cept Paw ain’t kept Maw outta his troublemakin’ it seems.
He thought, at the time, that we ain’t knew but I did. He told Maw that he ought to walk me to school each mornin’ to keep me outta trouble—as I am his flesh and blood—but I ain’t never was a troublemaker, not in the same way. I was a good boy and I loved my Maw more than anythin’—still do. I never woulda caused her grief. I saw him in the mornin’ makin’ eyes at my teacher Miss Dalia, he would smirk at her and linger in the hallway like a shadow while she wrote the date on the board. Then she’d wipe the chalk dust down the front of her dress and say “Pardon me, class, I’ll be just a moment.” Once, and only once, I followed her out. I felt like a storm cloud rollin’ in all silent and dark, but I was watchin ’em. He placed his hands on the round part of her hips and pulled her closer, leanin’ his lips close to her ear he smiled and whispered somethin’ I couldn’t hear. He looked nothin’ like my Paw, he looked like an animal and there was somethin’ in his eyes I couldn’t recognize. He ain’t never looked at Maw like that. I heard Miss Dalia say “Theodore, you dog,” but she ain’t hit him or push him away, ‘stead she wrapped her arms ’round his head and kissed him.
I was eight years old when I lost respect for my father. I was eight years old when I started hatin’ school. I was eight, and filled with so much anger it could fill a grain silo. I walked back into the classroom, slammin’ the door behind me. Sittin’ at my desk I couldn’t stand lookin’ at that woman, I thought, she was pretty but she ain’t nothin’ special, she ain’t my Maw. She ain’t sit at home makin’ Paw dinner every night, she ain’t the one who does his laundry or draws his baths. What did she even know ‘bout my Paw? She ain’t even call him by his name. That’s why I ain’t feel no ounce of bad when she wound up gettin’ fired from school.
Right around after I turned nine Miss Dalia’s belly started to poke out under her flowery button-down dresses, over time it just got bigger and bigger ’til she couldn’t hide it no more. Folks started noticin’ and began askin’ questions. She weren’t married, you see, so it was a big ol’ mystery for the nosey do-gooders to solve. Some of the parents started knockin’ on the classroom windows durin’ school hours, lookin’ like lost little birds, red in the face and squawkin’, callin’ Miss Dalia a whore and a harlot. They told the principal they don’t want no slut teachin’ they kids and the week after that we had a new teacher, Ms. Croust. She was much older than Miss Dalia, her hair was pulled back in a tight bun that made her look bald and she hunched when she walked like there was a string tyin’ her neck to her feet. Her lizard lips never smiled and were always peelin’ at the corners. When she walked past you, yer nose couldn’t help but crinkle at the smell. It’d fill the classroom like a deeply perfumed fog and some days I’d swear you could see it cloudin’ around her loose skin, like a mist that followed her around. It gave me a headache, I never asked for help ‘cause I was afraid if she came near me I’d pass out, slammin’ my head down on the desk.
Maw ain’t knew that Miss Dalia’s baby was Paw’s, and Paw ain’t know that I knew it was, too. We’d sit at the dinner table makin’ quiet conversation and Maw’d say somethin’ like “Peter, that teacher of yours got herself in quite the trouble, didn’t she?”
Paw wouldn’t look up from his steak as I said, “Yeah, somebody done got her pregnant. She don’t teach no more.”
She leaned back in her chair and sucked in her teeth, sighin’ and shakin’ her head, “I suppose that’s just what happens to girls who whore around. They get in God’s bad graces and get what’s comin’ to ‘em. Bless her heart.” I looked over at Paw outta the corner of my eye and watched as his jaw tightened. His knuckles turned white around his steak knife and the tips of his ears burned a little red. I kinda liked seein’ him get a little angry. I thought it was just what he deserved, I decided to push his limits a little bit, sayin’
“Yeah, I don’t know who woulda done it though. Frankly Maw, she kinda has a face like a horse.”
Paw stood up from the table, lettin’ his knife drop onto the plate with a clatter. “Peter, I ain’t raise you to be a man who can talk ‘bout folks like that. No matter what they did.” He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out his tobacco pipe. Clearin’ his throat and lookin’ towards Maw now he said “I’m goin’ out on the porch for a smoke. Git yer son under control ‘fore I smack him.” I watched his wide back disappear down the hallway, slow and lumberin’. I couldn’t make myself understand why he’d be so mad. She was just a woman, she ain’t been there for him. He had my Maw, why did he care so much ‘bout Miss Dalia? I knew I’d touched a nerve but I didn’t regret it, not until Maw looked at me with a gentle frown and said,
“Peter, hon, I think you upset yer Paw. You know it’s rude to say people have horse faces, don’t you?”
I felt incredibly sober, lookin’ down at my untouched broccoli I replied “Yes, Maw. I’m sorry.” We ain’t talked much ‘bout Miss Dalia after that night. Not until the day my whole life came crashin’ down on me, the day everythin’ fell apart in my hands like a wet newspaper. I wish I ain’t remember it as well as I do, I wish I could forget it and wipe it all clean. Sometimes I lay in bed with my eyes shut, wishin’ that when I opened ‘em again things would be normal, the way they used to be before Paw went and messed it all up.
It was a Sunday and we’d just got back from church. I was in the kitchen helpin’ Maw prep vegetables for a stew she was fixin’ to make for dinner and Paw was in the back choppin’ logs when she knocked. I could hear the faint wails comin’ from the baby and somethin’ inside my stomach dropped. I knew nothin’ good was gonna come from that sound. The baby’s cries sounded like a lamb getting slaughtered, an omen of misfortune and disaster. I shoulda heeded it. Maw sat her knife down on the choppin’ block and muttered “Now, who could that be?” I watched her open the door from the hallway. Miss Dalia was standin’ there with a cryin’ baby in her arms, her hair was in pieces, hangin’ from her scalp like the strings of noodles that stick to the strainer. She was sobbin’ somethin’ awful.
“Is Theodore here? Please, I needa see him.” She peered around Maw’s shoulder into the house. Her desperation made me feel sick. Maw stepped to the side to block her view.
“Why do you needa talk to my husband?” she dug her fingernails into the back of the door but kept her voice level.
“Please, I need him. I don’t know what to do.”
“Do ‘bout what?” I watched the back of Maw’s neck begin to turn red. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Paw through the kitchen window. He slammed the ax down into the base log, leavin’ the handle stuck up in the air like a bone sticks outta a broken leg. He pulled the t-shirt that was hangin’ from his back pocket out and dragged it across his forehead and around his neck before throwin’ it to the side and walkin’ towards the back door.
You know those moments right before somethin’ awful happens? The ones where you can see the tragedy linin’ up just right, all the terrible things fallin’ into place, but you can’t do anythin’? Like watchin’ a glass of milk beginnin’ to tip over but you ain’t quick enough to catch it. There’s that brief second where you know the milk is gonna spill. You know what’s gonna happen. You know that somethin’s ‘boutta be ruined, but yer completely and utterly powerless. You sit there watchin’ as the milk flies through the air, and you do nothin’.
The door slammed. Paw stood tall and sweatin’ and his eyes bugged outta his head. Despite the fact that his skin was burnt red from the sun it now held a ghostly shade of white. He seemed to stand there for a real long time while Maw and Miss Dalia stared at him. Even the baby had stopped cryin’. It was like all the world had made itself small and quiet so that Paw would be the biggest, loudest thing in it, until finally he muttered, “What,” takin’ a deep swallow and switchin’ his eyes back and forth between both women, “Is goin’ on?”
Maw opened the door wide so that he could see Miss Dalia’s whole body in the doorway, the frame perfectly boxin’ her in like she was on the other side of a portal. “I dunno, Theodore,” she said, “Why don’t you tell me?” His eyes softened when they met Miss Dalia’s and he took a small step towards her,
“Dally? What’re you doin’ here?” He spoke with a gentleness I’d never heard before, and as I looked over to my Maw I could tell she was just as shocked as I was.
“He’s yours, Theodore,” she tilted her head down to the baby nestled into the crook of her chest. I couldn’t tell if it looked like my Paw or not, everythin’ on its face looked like it’d been wet too long. “He needs a father, he needs you. Please, I can’t do it by myself.” A tear rolled down her chin drippin’ onto the baby’s nose makin’ it begin to fuss. My Paw—or his Paw I ‘spose—stepped forward and took him into his hands. He was so small compared to Paw that his whole body was nearly covered when Paw wrapped his arms ‘round him. Maw stood there and watched him, not sayin’ a word. I could hear her though. I could hear what she was thinkin’, I could hear the sound of her heart fallin’ out onto the floorboards with a thud. I could see the changin’ in her eyes, the instant knowin’. Her Teddy was gone.
He looked up at her and started, “Lacy darlin’, I—”
“It’s alright, Teddy.” She looked down at the floors when she spoke, “I know what you gotta do, I’ll pack yer things for you, okay?”
He couldn’t say nothin’ at first. He reached his free hand over and cradled the back of her head, and bringin’ his lips to her he planted a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you, Lacy. I’ll come by tonight for my stuff.”
She nodded with heavy lashes before turnin’ to Miss Dalia and sayin’ “Take care of him for me, Dalia.” It was like all the life had left her body. She took defeat in grace but I could tell that she weren’t right. She was bein’ strong for Paw, maybe even for me, but Paw ain’t the one who had to pick up her pieces, he ain’t think ‘bout that. I was the one who had to listen to her cryin’ through the walls, I’m the one who took care of her. I’m the one who was like her husband.
Miss Dalia breathed quietly, “I will.”
Paw left with Miss Dalia and the baby. He could barely look me in the eyes as he closed the door behind him, the little baby sleepin’ soundly against his thick neck. He told me, “This don’t change much Peter, I promise. I’m still yer Paw. I just gotta go be a better man now and take care of what I done. I’m sorry.”
But it did change much. It changed lots, actually. Years passed and I ain’t have a father for any of it. I went through puberty, I went to school and got jobs, and the whole time I ain’t had a man in the house ‘sides me. Everythin’ I had to figure out ‘bout bein’ a good man I had to figure out on my own. All the while, I took care of my poor Maw who’s health had been on a downward spiral since the day he left. I had to watch as she lost herself, I could see her light leavin’ her body, gettin’ sucked away like water down a drain. She wandered around the house at night, I could hear her footsteps triggerin’ the creaky floorboards. She would talk to him, askin’ him why he did it. What she did wrong. I pretended I ain’t hear it but I was listenin’ to every word. With each imaginary conversation my hatred for my Paw bloomed in my gut like a rotten bouquet.
“Teddy, do you remember I always wanted to learn to read? I’d beg ya to just teach me one little word. I just wanted to be able to spell yer name. But you were always so busy. I wish I knew how to write it. I’d write it over and over again until I wore my pencil down to the stub.” Of course all her questions were never answered, my Maw talked to the man she loved and the only one who answered back was the humming crackle of the logs in the woodstove and the gentle winds that rattled the windows.
I watched as she began to stop eatin’, her bones poked through her clear skin. I could see the blue veins in detail beneath her eyelids like rivers on a map. She’d sleep all day and talk to Paw all night. For years it was like I was livin’ with a ghost. I started makin’ dinners that she wouldn’t touch, I got a job to pay the bills and buy groceries. I never let no one know that I was the one takin’ care of her. I didn’t want them to take her away from me. I needed my Maw. It was so hard to watch her lose herself. I resented Paw with every strand of DNA that we shared. I ain’t even mind that he left me and all of a sudden decided to be a lovin’ father. I can take that. I hate what he did to Maw. Some nights I listen to her talkin’ and I run through my mind what I would give just to kill him. What I would do to make him hurt just as bad as my Maw was.
Then one night, when the house was silent for the first time in a long while, it hit me. I had been thinkin’ a lot about Paw ever since I seen him at Miller’s. I realized that Paw took somethin’ away from my Maw. The only way to make it even, to really make it right, was to take somethin’ away from Paw, too. Somethin’ inside me lit up with a chaotic typa excitement. I got up and went to the kitchen table where Maw had been sittin’, pushin’ the crustless sandwich she hadn’t touched aside I said, “Maw, I got an idea. I’m finally gonna set the world right, again.”
I stood outside Paw and Miss Dalia’s house the next day, rubbin’ my bald head like my fingers were searchin’ for the hair that used to be there. I felt naked in a way, my hair was just ‘bout the only part of me I liked, but I hated that it was Paw’s hair. I ain’t want any part of me to resemble that man. His new house was smaller than mine and Maw’s and it was surrounded by tall corn fields. I woke up before the sun that mornin’, the dusk makin’ a fine blanket for stealth, and as I stood just barely at the edge of the corn I felt like I was one with the plants. My body swayed in the wind with the same rhythm, my feet fused to the ground like roots.
I watched, and waited, Paw’s corn-orphan stalkin’ in the distance. I didn’t quite know what I was waitin’ for, I could feel that I had to be here, though. I ain’t never was one to believe in destiny, but if I was I’d say destiny brought me here. Got all up in my brain and drove me here with a force outside myself. A voice whisperin’ in my head to ‘go’. It wasn’t until I saw the boy step outta the back door to go play in the yard that I knew. He was the answer; the boy. I kept my eyes on him like a fox lurks to hunt rabbits. I coulda swore my breath was so quiet, so still, that it wasn’t even there. Maybe I did stop breathin’. The boy was all alone, he was playin’ with a tiny wooden car and talkin’ to himself. I saw his pale skin glistenin’ in the summer heat, sweat makin’ him look almost golden.
He looked so much like Paw. I knew he’d be perfect. I stepped outta the corn and walked towards him, splittin’ my face into a smile, tryin’ to act unassumin’. “Heya, Junior!”
He looked up at me and his eyes held a perplexity almost too complicated for a boy his age. “The boy from the store? What’re you doin’ here? Where did your hair go?” His questions fired at a rate that made me think they were asked just as soon as they were thought of.
I laughed, “Oh yeah, I forget you don’t know who I am. I’m yer cousin, Junior. Yer Paw’s my uncle. That’s why he talked to me at the store.” I could feel the sun beamin’ down on my neck as sweat dripped down the collar of the shirt.
He seemed to take this in and let it roll around his little head, “That makes sense, you kinda look like Pappy.” I ain’t know that he called Paw ‘Pappy’. It seems that Paw just changed everythin’ ‘bout himself for his new family. I s’pose it made sense he ain’t even wanna be called ‘Paw’ no more. I thought about what he said ‘bout me and Paw lookin’ alike. Is it that obvious? Would I never be able to escape that man?
“Yeah, he asked me if I’d like to watch ya sometime, figured today was a time as good as any. And I shaved my hair ‘cause it was gettin’ in my eyes.” My hair actually wasn’t gettin’ in my eyes, I could see just fine. I hoped the boy wouldn’t take this into consideration and hold it against me.
He stood up and looked back to his house, “Oh, should I go tell him we’re leavin’?”
“No, that’s alright. ” I started to panic. “I already called and told him,” I smiled, prayin’ that Paw wasn’t in the house watchin’ this strange figure speakin’ with his prize child.
“Alright,” he seemed to be skeptical but too afraid to disobey someone older than him, “Can I bring my car?” He held the toy up for me to see. I recognized it as one I used to have when I was his age. Paw whittled it for my sixth birthday. My jaw tensed up and I had to hide my rage as best as I could.
“‘Course you can. It’s a nice car.” I laid my hand on his shoulder, gently guiding him to the path in the corn I’d made. “C’mon, lets git goin’, I know a shortcut.”
He smiled at me and I envied the trust he had. I remember bein’ that way. Thinkin’ the world was good and that nobody wanted to hurt me. I was jealous of him, I knew that deep down. I hated that he got everythin’ I should’ve. I ain’t had any ill will for him though, I believed children should be protected, it was Paw who I was after. It was Paw who I wanted to hurt. I lost somethin’ important to me, so why shouldn’t he lose somethin’ important to him? I know that an eye for an eye ain’t always just—it ain’t always make you feel better. But this time it was like takin’ Paw’s eyes and given’ ‘em to Maw. The boy could make her happy, I knew it. He could fix her if he fixed Paw. I wasn’t enough anymore and that was okay, I knew this would help her. I just wanted my Maw to feel better, to feel alive again. The house was so cold, it needed a child to make it warm.
That was two days ago, now. I brought Junior home and told him how much he’d love my Maw. She was a pretty lady, I told him. When he asked where she was I told him that she sits at the kitchen table now, she has trouble movin’. I told him to run along and go play while I made her somethin’ to eat and he ran down the hall explorin’ the house. As I stood in the kitchen I could feel Maw’s eyes starin’ at the back of my head, I turned ‘round sayin’ “What Maw?” She just looked at me, was it disappointment? Pity? “This’ll be a good thing, Maw.” I told her as I turned back to the counter, “You’ll see.”
I had to lock him in my bedroom. He began askin’ questions and gettin’ antsy. I can hear him sobbin’ through the walls now. He’s bein’ dramatic. I give him three meals and juice and water and a comfy bed. Maw still won’t talk to me. I been ‘fraid to leave the house. I’m scared he’ll escape and tattle on me. I’m certain folks in town are lookin’ for him.
He’s asleep now, the house is finally quiet. I can hear myself think. I can rest my eyes. I close them for only a moment, brief seconds of sleep quickly interrupted by the sound of a door slammin’ outside. My heart starts racin’, this is it. I’m done for. I begin to panic, the boy ain’t heard the car pull up, he’s still quiet. I try to calm myself down, tellin’ myself I can do this.
There’s a knock at the door and I open it right away, Paw’s disheveled face stares at me with a grief that has dragged all of his features downwards. I play dumb, “Ted?” I say.
He chokes out the words “Peter, can I come in?”
I should tell him no. I should tell him I’m busy. It’s the smart thing to do. But instead I find myself sayin’, “Sure,”. I walk him over to the couch and gesture for him to sit down, I ask him what’s the matter, tryin’ to keep my voice down so that the boy doesn’t wake up.
“Theo Jr. is missing,” he says. I watch as a tear rolls down his stone-set cheek. I feel no amount of remorse for the man sittin’ in front of me. I try to look concerned but I think I can only give off a look of apathy. “I know I weren’t a very good father to you, Peter,” he starts to say, “I was an even worse husband. I know that.” He clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “But I had the chance to be better. I got the opportunity to start over and do it right. God doesn’t give many men second chances like that. I know that you have every reason to hate me. I was cruel. I was selfish. I know you have no reason to help me or to care and I know that yer still so young to be without a father, but you gotta understand, that boy is my whole life. I need him more than I need a shirt on my back or food in my belly. I love him in a way that I never was able to love anythin’ before. I can’t handle him bein’ gone. I don’t think I been a very good man in my life, but to him I’m the best man in the world. Please, Peter,” he looks up at me and I can see that he’s been cryin’ “Please help me find my boy.”
I can’t tell what’s goin’ on in my head. Paw has squirmed his way in like a worm in an apple. I don’t know what to do anymore. I want to talk to Maw. I want to ask her what I should do.
He starts talkin’ again, “And look, I know that my words probably aren’t worth nothin’ to you, but I just want you to know that I am so sorry. I never should have done what I did to yer Maw and I never should have left you. I should have done it all right the first time. I’m sorry, Peter. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I just want you to know that I regret the hurt that I caused you and Lacy.” Right as I open my mouth to reply the boy starts yellin’. Paw’s brow furrows and he looks at me, “What’s that?”
I scramble to find my footing as I stand, “Oh it’s nothin’, I think you oughtta git goin’ now, Maw’s waitin’ on me in the kitchen.”
He stands up and starts walkin’ towards the noise, “No, it sounds like a boy. Junior?” he shouts.
“Pappy, please help me, please.” he wails through the wood. I have one of those moments again where time seems almost in slow motion. It seems like a million thoughts race through my head all at once. I consider runnin’ out the door but I can’t let ‘em git to Maw. I consider grabbin’ my gun, but I forgot to load it and the shells are in the shed. Instead of doin’ anything I just stand there and watch as the whole damn glass of milk tips over and soaks into my clothes. Paw rams his shoulder through the door, knockin’ it through the frame.
“Junior, oh my God! What did he do?” He comes outta the room carryin’ the boy and clingin’ to him like a sloth. “Peter, what the hell is wrong with you? Does your mother know that you did this?” He charges past me headed to the kitchen.
“No! Don’t bring Maw into this! It’s my fault, okay?” I race after him but I’m too late. He’s standin’ in the kitchen starin’ at the table, not sayin’ a word.
Slowly, as if he was scared of me, Paw says “Peter, what on Earth did you do?”
I look at the scene from his eyes for the first time. The table is full of sandwiches, mold dusts the oldest ones and flies crawl ‘round the soggy edges of the bread. Some of the sandwiches have fallen on the floor, pieces of turkey sprawl across the hardwood. Maw is sittin’ at the table, her eyes vacant and hollow. The front of her nightgown is stained a deep, dark brown and there’s a similarly colored dried up puddle by her feel on the floor. Her neck gapes open like a grin, a devil smile. Little white bugs squirm inside the hole, fallin’ onto her lap.
Paw asks me again, “What did you do?”
And all of a sudden it all comes back to me. All at once I remember the night my Maw killed herself.