"Hey, Billy, what have you done with the milk?" I yelled from the trailer's kitchen.
"You know I ain't touched your milk," Billie shouted back.
"You must have done something with it. It’s not here and it was just here last night."
"I told you I ain't done nothing with that milk of yours. Why do you think I'm suddenly drinking that shit? That stuff'll kill you."
I walked to the back of the trailer where Billy was getting ready for work.
"I know I only had one glass of milk before I went to bed and that jug was still half full. Now there’s not even a sign of a milk jug anywhere. So what happened to it?"
"Maybe someone broke into the trailer last night and stole the milk. Did you notice if anything else was gone? Like maybe the Oreos?"
"Very funny."
I stood there for a few seconds watching Billy get dressed. I wondered why it took him so long in the morning. It's not like he ever shaved or did anything with his hair. Lord knows he didn't want to ruin that precious biker image of his with a real hairstyle or a clean-shaven face. And he only took a shower when he was going out drinking after work.
"Can ya' stop and get me some milk on your way home?" I asked.
"I'm a very busy man. I got things to do."
"Like what?"
"Like how about it’s none of your business."
"Oh, yeah? Well, screw you. And don't expect me to be here whenever you decide to come home."
"And just where do you think you're gonna go? You ain't even got a car. I know you’re not gonna walk that sorry ass of yours into town."
"I'll find a ride."
"Yeah, with who?"
"How about it’s none of your business?"
Before I knew it was coming, he hauled off and belted me right in the mouth. I fell over onto the floor. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me back to my feet. "Don't you ever speak to me like that again. You hear me, bitch?"
I tried to say "yeah" but I could barely open my swelling mouth to get the words out.
"I can't hear you," he said, grabbing me by my shirt's collar and pulling me right up to his sweaty face. "What did you say?"
I took a deep breath and managed to mumble, "Okay."
He pushed me down on the bed. "That's what I thought," he said. "I've got some time before I gotta be to work. How about a little entertainment?"
I could feel blood streaming down my cheek. I tried to lift myself up to get to the bathroom but Billy pushed me back down on the bed. "Where do you think you're going? We're just starting to have some fun."
He jumped on top of me, straddling me down while he took off his belt.
"You're gonna love this. I know you will. That's about all you’re good for, anyway.”
To this day, I'm not sure exactly how it happened or why, but I suddenly felt the anger to fight back. And fight back I did. I kicked Billy in the groin just as hard as I could and he doubled over in what I was sure was both pain and surprise. I jumped up from the bed and ran into the kitchen. Billy jumped up and ran after me. He grabbed me by the backside of my head and pulled me toward him. I managed to twist free by elbowing him in the stomach but before I could get away, he leapt forward and grabbed my shoulders. I started kicking at him with all the power I could muster and we began a strange kind of fight-dance around the kitchen. Before I knew what happened, we both lost our balance. Billy fell back and I fell forward.
When I got up, Billy was slumped on the floor right below the kitchen stove. I figured he was knocked out. I walked over to him and took the opportunity to kick him hard. "That's for busting up my mama's television," I said as I laid my boot to his side. He fell over like a rag doll when I kicked him. That’s when I noticed the gash in his skull. And it was bleeding. Lots. I knew he was dead.
It was still early so I figured Sheila would be home. I ran over to her trailer and pounded on the door.
“Sheila! Sheila, let me in,” I yelled. “Please.”
“What’s going on, Girl?” Sheila said opening the door. “Oh, my God, what happened? You’re covered in blood.”
“It’s Billy.”
“What did he do to you?”
“It’s more like what I did to him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Billy’s dead.”
“Dead? Are you sure?”
“I don't think he could get any deader.”
“Come inside. The kids already left for school.”
We both went into Sheila’s trailer and I told her the gory details of the happenings leading up to Billy death.
“What do I do now?” I asked.
“That depends on a few things. I want you to be straight with me, Ally. Okay?”
“I’m always straight with you, Sheila, you know I am.”
“It’s important.”
“Okay.”
She sat me down at her kitchen table and took a seat herself.
"Did you and Billy ever get married?”
“No. Billy never wanted to.”
“That’s good.”
“What else?”
“I've never seen you drive. Do you even have a license?”
“No. Billy didn’t want me to drive.”
“How about the trailer? Was your name on the lease?"
I shook my head. “Billy took care of all that.”
"What about the utilities? The cable bill?”
“Billy wouldn’t get cable. He paid Mr. Mooney month to month and that included utilities.”
“Did you ever take the rent money up to Mr. Mooney’s office?”
“Are you kidding? Billy never did let me handle his money.”
“Did you ever get any mail delivered here? Letters from family or friends—magazine subscriptions?”
“No. I don’t recall either of us getting any mail. I don’t have any family. My mama’s dead and I’ve never seen my daddy. I don’t have brothers or sisters.”
“So, no one knows you were here except for me and my kids.”
“Sure looks that way, don’t it?”
“You have to be sure there is no way anyone would trace you back to Billy or your trailer.”
“I don’t think there is. But what about my finger prints?”
“Have you ever been arrested?”