Naturally some sonofabitches always looking for a way to get out. Like Sirius B, and who knew where the hell he ended up? Eddie done had enough after they pushed him down by the face on day one, but he tryna rescue his mama, so he couldn’t go yet. Darlene could see the point of other folks leaving, but what she gonna find out there? Probably a worse life. A life full of Unknowns, Don’t-Know-If-I-Cans, and Sure-As-Hell-Can’ts. Could she quit me, could she get on her feet, get jobs? What jobs she gonna get anyhow? Looking that type of change in the face could terrify the shit outta people who ain’t had them problems. And now Eddie done showed up at Delicious—safe, thank the Lord—so she ain’t even had no reason to run. Working for Delicious, you couldn’t call it luxurious, you couldn’t even call it nice, but it be steady, honest work for a li’l bit of pay, and nobody judging you ’bout no drugs, and that made a difference in Darlene life, allowed her some dribs and drabs of pride now and again. How always saying, Work be the salvation of man, and Work gonna set you free. He only said that shit to make fun of you, but he kept saying it and you heard them words in your head. And at certain times on certain days, you believed them words.
Darlene kept on tryna weigh the crazy danger of running against the safe misery of staying. Trouble was, they weighed the same, so without deciding not to decide or nothing, she ain’t made no decision at all. Inertia came in and kept her doing what she did. Now Michelle, she want to get the fuck out every damn night. Whenever Darlene talking to her, she be pointing out flaws in the system that she or everybody could use to they advantage and escape. Michelle had a great big forehead and talked a lot a lot. When my girl got going, she’d correct herself ten times before she could finish a damn sentence—she had a jumbo-size brain up in there, thinking and scheming 27-9.
If Michelle stood next to Darlene during roll call, she always say something like, Lookit—it’s only three of them. Then she move her eyes over to How, Jackie, and Hammer. And Jackie’s so out of it all the time, Michelle said, she like a half a one. It’s twenty of us. When they take roll inside one of these days, she’d say through her teeth—look at that window up in the corner. They don’t never put the padlock on that at night. When they go out and drink and smoke on the weekend nights, somebody could lift somebody up and push them out and they could run. You could hoist me up, Darlene. You’re strong.
Darlene would go, I’m not that strong.
So you saying I’m too big? That I’m fat? Is that what you saying?
No, you’re not fat! You need to stop that. I’m saying I’m not that strong. But once you get hoisted, who is going to hoist me?
The week after New Year’s, Darlene and Michelle had a opportunity to talk down at the depot ’bout what they plans for the coming year. Hammer and How had just gone inside to buy they own beer, and left the crew on that souped-up school bus.
Michelle ain’t waste no time, she bounced out her seat and down the rubber rug in the aisle to the back, where Darlene had hunched down into a seat, just pinching that glass tube between her fingers and sucking up my thick smoke.
Michelle goes, You know what’s my resolution? My resolution is to get out this hellhole—dead or alive. Truth be told, we oughta do it. Tonight. Just run. They can’t keep us here.
But what’s the plan after Let’s Run, Michelle! Darlene said. Do you have a plan for They’ve Got Guns? Do you know where we’re at so we can figure out where we’ll go? No. We don’t have a compass or anything. We could run all day and night and maybe we’d run in circles, or run the wrong way and end up deeper inside the farm than before. What then?
Michelle leant her head back far as it would go and roared, shaking her fists in front of her. Have you got a plan for We’re Gonna Die Up in This Joint? Do you want your son to grow up working for these people?
They’ve got guns. We don’t. We’re miles from civilization. Don’t you owe them fifteen hundred dollars?
It’s $1,749.35. But that’s a goddamn joke compared to what they owe me. Michelle folded her arms and cocked her head and cut her eyes at Darlene. At a certain point, she said, it’s not like I care anymore. Between being in this shithole, working seven days a week from seven a.m. sometimes to nine p.m. or later, and getting ripped off by these freakazoids for shit I don’t even know I did, not to mention shit I didn’t do? I will take getting shot over that—probably in the thigh, because you know they can’t aim worth a damn, right?
They’ve got better aim than that. They might get lucky on your skull. You could die, Michelle.
We’re all gonna die someday, Darlene. But I don’t want my damn body to get thrown on How’s trash heap when I go. They said your son was sixteen when everybody knows he twelve. You remember when How shoved him by his face that day we went out weeding? If they pistol-whip Eddie, or beat the crap out of him like they done to TT, he won’t survive that. People have disappeared, Darlene. Know how they always joking ’bout dumping folks in the swamp? What if it’s not a joke? Michelle pulled out a cigarette and start striking a match a bunch of times, then she finally got it lit. She sucked hard and blew a long blast of smoke above Darlene head. Darlene reached out to bum a cigarette, and Michelle gave her one and went, Honestly, I don’t know why I bother telling you. You’re probably just gonna tell them. Get a break on your debt.