Momma wasn’t home, though. Neither was Billy. Johnny sat and waited for a while. He showered the reservoir sand and grit off his skin and got ready for bed, revisiting some of his favorite parts in his now favorite book. He was just dozing off when Billy came in. His face was flushed, and he was wearing a pair of sweats and a tee shirt and sneakers. The kid wasn’t exactly an athlete, and he avoided sweating at all costs, but it looked like he was taking up running or something. Billy was always neat as a pin and careful about his appearance. He didn’t look at Johnny as he started to undress, and then he paused, gathered up his clothes and went into the bathroom. Johnny raised his eyebrows at his brother’s retreating back and decided it must be a puberty thing. Billy getting shy about changing in front of him almost made him laugh out loud.
It was 2 a.m. before his mother came in. Johnny jerked awake and listened, hearing her walk down the narrow hallway between the bedrooms. She flipped on her light and shut her door softly. Johnny eased out from under the covers and opened his bedroom door, wincing as it squeaked loudly. Billy didn’t stir. Johnny tapped on his mother’s door to warn her he was coming in, but didn’t wait for her to give permission. He didn’t want to give her any time to compose herself. Two a.m. meant she had been up to no good, and he was tired of worrying about her.
She screamed a little and tried to say she was undressing, not to come in, but Johnny didn’t listen. She was fully dressed and sitting on her bed, hands in her lap. She stood and turned quickly, hiding her face from him, but not quickly enough.
“Ah, shit! Momma!” Johnny flew across the room and spun his mother to face him, sucking in his breath as his eyes landed on her bruised and swollen right eye. Her bottom lip was puffy too, and it was split down the center.
“Who did this!” he roared, not caring anymore about being gentle or quiet.
“It was a misunderstanding,” his mother started, folding her arms against his anger.
“Bullshit, Momma!” He groaned, turning from her and locking his hands behind his head in frustration. “No one smacks a woman in the face, more than once by the looks of it, without understanding exactly what he’s doing.”
“Johnny Kinross!” his mother hissed, grabbing his arm and turning him to face her once more. “I am a grown woman, and you are my son, and you will watch your mouth around me. I may make mistakes, but you won’t talk to me that way!” Her lips trembled and her eyes fought against the tears that she had probably been holding in for a while.
“Momma,” Johnny sighed, more softly now. “Me respecting you is not the problem here. You don’t respect yourself.”
“That’s not it!” Dolly Kinross started up, but Johnny wouldn’t let her continue.
“Yeah, Momma. It is. You think you deserve to be slapped around and treated like garbage, so you do things you know you shouldn’t do so that when you are mistreated you can justify it. But if you think I’m gonna stand by and allow someone -- the mayor or anyone else -- to put a mark on my mother, then you don’t know me very well.”
“It’s over, Johnny. It’s done. I’m not seeing the mayor anymore. I promise.” His mother called out behind him as he turned to leave her room. “Please don’t do anything! Just let it go!”
Billy stood in the hallway between the bedrooms. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and his face was creased with sleep. He didn’t just look tired. He looked weary, and Johnny paused a moment, looking into his younger brother’s face.
“Is she okay?” Billy blurted out before Johnny could say a word.
“She’s fine,” Johnny soothed instinctively. “She’s just been hanging around the wrong kinds of people in the wrong places, and it caught up with her.” Johnny put his arm around his brother’s shoulders and led him back into their room. “I don’t want you to worry, Billy. I’ll take care of you, and Momma too, if she’ll let me.”
“She said for you not to do anything, Johnny! What are you going to do?” Billy grabbed Johnny’s arm. “You’re not going anywhere are you? The mayor could throw you in jail if you go after him, Johnny! I don’t want anything to happen to you!” Billy looked as if he were going to burst into tears, and Johnny pushed the anger away temporarily, for the sake of his younger brother who could obviously tell Johnny had revenge on his mind.
“I’m not going anywhere tonight. Let’s go back to bed. Come on.” Johnny pushed his brother gently back to his narrow bed and then climbed into his own, pulling the thin blanket around his shoulders and closing his eyes to Billy’s worried gaze.
“You promise you aren’t just waiting until I fall asleep?” Billy’s voice wavered, unconvinced.
“I promise I will be here all night long, and I’ll still be here when you wake up,” Johnny said calmly, fighting the impulse that wanted to send him raging through town, throwing bricks through the windows of certain distinguished citizens’ homes. He lay there silently, perfectly still, until Billy finally fell asleep and the tiny, dumpy house on Julian Street was hushed and still. Johnny would be true to his word; he would be there when Billy woke up, but he hadn’t abandoned his need for revenge, and the mayor was going to pay.
~17~
A Time to Cast Away Stones
“Maggie! Maggie! Wake up, Johnny’s here!” Irene was shaking her and Maggie winced, not knowing where she was or frankly WHEN she was. She lifted her weighty lids and peered at her aunt. Aunt Irene’s neat grey chignon and eyes lined with years met her bleary gaze and she readjusted herself to 2011.
“Wh-what?” Maggie moaned, pushing her hair from her face. Her glasses hung from one ear, sliding down her nose lopsidedly before she pushed them into place. She was still wearing Johnny’s white sports coat.
“Why are you in here?” Irene wondered out loud. “When I woke up this morning you were gone. I thought you were at school. Did you come in here and lay down after I got up?” She halted and gasped, looking at the rumpled red formal Maggie was wearing under Johnny’s sport coat.
“Where did you get that dress? It looks just like a dress I used to have. I looked everywhere for that dress....” Irene fussed at Maggie, and Maggie just stared down at the red formal and then around the room in wonder. Irene was acting like they hadn’t played dress up and fallen asleep in a tumble of tulle and old memories. Had they? Reality was a bitter old lady with a switch in her hands, waiting for you to turn your back. Maggie closed her eyes and flung herself mournfully back across the bed. She wanted to howl and kick her legs, and she fought the urge to shriek in frustration.