Nicolette grabbed hold of her shirtsleeve, wanting to know Momma’s favorite cartoon, wanting to know had she been in an airplane. “Say, Momma Trish. Say.”
An edge come on Momma’s voice could’ve cut a pop can in half. Said, “I don’t know, goddammit. God Amighty, Dawn.”
I said, “Nicolette, leave her alone.” What I wanted to say is,
But I didn’t.
“Tricia,” Willett said, “you need me to stop?”
“Need you to stop talking,” she said. Momma stayed grim and tight, but she didn’t lose it. Then about a mile later, Momma said, “Stop there.”
She went in the bathroom at a filling station. She was gone a good fifteen minutes.
Willett said, “I’m worried about her.”
I said, “I’m worried about her and those guys knowing where we live.”
“She aint doing too good, is she?” Willett whispered, “She looks like she might jump out of her skin.”
“How would she do that?” Nicolette said, looking scared the first time all day. “How would she jump out of her skin?”
I said, “She aint gonna jump out of her skin,” pounding Willett hard on the ball of his shoulder. I said, “Don’t say stupid shit like that in front of her. It don’t help.”
Momma came back to the car, wiping her mouth, and we went on to the trailer.
* * *
OUR TRAILER set in a quiet park with a creek run through it outside Kingsport. Willow trees stood waiting for kids to chase in and out amongst the whips of their branches. There were trees stout enough for tire swings and plenty of room between the trailers, like you wouldn’t see nobody do now. Now everything is stacked tight, cracker boxes crammed on a shelf in a jammed-up dollar store.
We walked in the trailer to Groundhog lying on his side, barely on the sofa he was so huge, his shirt off and sweating, sucking his thumb, eyes opening and closing slow. The TV blared the bells and screams of a game show. Slobber ran down Groundhog’s wrist.
I said, “Get off my sofa, you nasty fuck.”
Momma said, “Where’s the bathroom?”
I said, “Take her, Willett. Watch her.”
Momma said, “God Amighty, Dawn.”
I said to the couch, “Get your fatshit ass out of my house.” Groundhog rolled over away from me. I slapped both hands on his arm to drag him off, but he was so sweatslick, I lost hold. I gouged my fingernails into him, rolled him off onto the carpet. Shook the whole trailer when he hit. Fu Manchu laughed from my kitchen. Everything in the refrigerator was out on the counter. Mustard splattered like paintball on the floor. Bread stacked up outside the bag seven slices high.
I said, “God Almighty.” So as not to cry I started kicking Groundhog. Fu Manchu laughed and shoved his mouth full of potato chips. I started stomping Groundhog. I said, “Get up.” He curled up like a ball.
“Get him out of here,” I said to Fu Manchu. When he didn’t do nothing, I said, “Don’t bother me to call the law, motherfucker. Get him up.”
Fu Manchu said, “Evie let us in. She had a key.”
I said, “What?”
Fu Manchu said, “We’re invited guests.”
I said, “I didn’t give Evie no key.”
Evie come up the hall. “Yeah you did,” she said. “You sure as hell did.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” I said. “Before I blow the hell out of all of you.”
Groundhog said, “I’d like you to blow the hell out of me.”
I pulled a piece of old shower curtain rod out from under Willett’s chair. I rared back to bust Groundhog over the head with it. Fu Manchu come up behind me and snatched the rod from my hand. He shoved me over top of Groundhog. I fell headfirst onto the sofa. I turned to get up but Fu Manchu shoved me back down. Groundhog got up. They stood over me, a stone wall of suck. Cool air come off Fu Manchu, like an open icebox. He drew the shower curtain rod back like he was gonna backhand me.
I started crying. I wasn’t scared of getting hit. I was grieving. Grieving for my lost house, my lost safe spot. I cried cause my baby’s private place, my quiet place, the peace place where me and Willett might be able to work things out was gone.
You don’t know, do you? You don’t know what it’s like to never want anything cause you don’t have a way to keep it safe.
Or stole. Or lost. Every chair in pieces. Every rug pissed on. Every glass and plate and toy and pretty little thing on every shelf shattered. You don’t put your hand down in the cushion of your burnhole sofa cause you’ll come back with your finger cut on bottle glass or a needle or tin can lid. Blood beading like a superball cause can’t nobody give a shit.
But our house hadn’t been like that. It wadn’t perfect like Willett’s mother’s, but it was ours and it was nice cause none of my family knew where I lived.
Fu Manchu went back to the kitchen, lay that curtain rod on the counter. He took out his hog-sticker lock blade. He cut summer sausage into little pieces and he raked them off the counter into his hand. He threw them in his mouth like they were my baby’s teeth. He stared at me.
I said, “GET OUT.”
Fu Manchu said, “I heard you before.” He was bigger than the refrigerator. I felt like one sweep of his arm might knock my house down.
Groundhog crashed to the floor, set with his back against the sofa. Willett come back down the hall, Nicolette hanging on his leg. She went to Groundhog and put her hand on his face. She said, “Momma said leave, Slobberface.”
Groundhog raked his arm and caught Nicolette in the side of the knee, knocked her down, which was enough for Willett and he set into kicking Groundhog, saying “Don’t you ever, EVER touch her.” Which we all stood and watched till Momma come out of the bathroom, bolting down the hall like a wiener dog shot out of a cannon, and Evie said, “This is stupid” and grabbed the Jeep keys off the counter and left out.
The rest, Momma included, filed out after Evie. Nicolette dragged a chair to the sink and filled up a squirt gun I’d been using to train the cat to stay off the counter and out of my spider plants. I didn’t make a move to stop her, nor did I when she went running out the door straight as a string, pointing the squirt gun dead ahead of her. Willett grabbed the squirt gun as she turned sideways and slipped past, and I finally did stand up.
“Here, girl,” Momma called from the front seat of the Jeep.
Nicolette ran to her grandmother. Willett stood there, pointing Nicolette’s squirt gun at Momma, his finger on the trigger. Momma hugged Nicolette and the Jeep started moving before she set her down. But she did get her set down before they took off, and then Momma was gone in a cloud of gravel dust.
* * *
I WOKE up that night alone in bed. Willett’s snoring came through the closed bedroom door. I got up and went down the hall. Willett’s legs curled on the sofa. The streetlight on the corner lit up the room. On the table next to him was the blue folder holding his new hire papers.
I sat down on the edge of the couch and opened the folder and held the direct deposit form to the light, did the same with the medical plan papers. The credit union papers. The paper explaining how Willett gets time and a half for all hours over eight worked in a shift, double time for all