That did it for the joyride.
He drove to his dad’s place where he found his father and Consuela in the kitchen. Mitchell was dipping the fish in a bowl of milk and then into a bowl of flour and she stood next to him chopping cabbage and carrots.
Mitchell looked at his son’s forehead. “What happened?”
Russell reached up and pulled off the Band-Aid and dropped it in the garbage can and said nothing.
A wooden table for four in the middle. A dishrag draped over the edge of the sink. A row of brown coffee mugs hanging from hooks underneath the cabinet. The black and white tiles of the floor. The Coca-Cola bottle magnet stuck on the refrigerator. The framed picture hanging above the doorway of a handsome Jesus with His hands folded on His lap and wearing a white robe and the light of heaven shining behind His head. Only Consuela was different. She was still barefoot.
“Come on a second,” Mitchell said. He washed his hands and wiped them on a towel and moved toward the back door.
“What is it?” Russell asked.
“Just come on. Need a hand.”
They walked out and across the yard toward the barn. Mitchell’s truck was parked in front of the barn and he walked around and let down the tailgate.
“Couldn’t get this out of here by myself.”
In the truck bed lay a concrete statue of the Virgin Mary with arms open and ready to catch anything that might fall from the sky.
“Jesus,” Russell said.
“It ain’t Jesus. It’s His momma.”
Mitchell grabbed the round bottom of the statue.
“Grab on. And be careful.”
They pulled the end off the tailgate until the Virgin tipped upright and when she did Russell barely ducked in time to dodge her left arm. She was eight feet tall with a sharp, pointed nose and a look of empathy.
“I figured it might make Consuela feel more at home,” Mitchell said as he looked at the Virgin with a sense of pride. “You know how on TV you see those plazas and squares in other countries and there’s always a statue in the middle? I know they got them in Mexico. Clive told me about it the first time he went down there. Said there were plazas with red dirt streets and Virgin Marys all over.”
“Where’d you find this thing?”
“Guy out on the highway with all those concrete angels and dogs. Had it put away for himself but I got it out of him. We were out riding around. Hitting junk stores here and there. She saw it and grinned and nodded and I took that for her wanting it, so here it is.”
“Here it is.”
“Or here she is.”
“Yes. It’s a she.”
“Think I should move it closer to the house?”
The men looked toward the house and Consuela was standing at the edge of the yard watching them. She was wearing one of Liza’s aprons.
Mitchell got a dolly from the barn. Russell got behind the Virgin and wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled back and Mitchell slid the dolly under her. She weighed as much as them together and her weight helped her roll across the slightly downward slope toward the house. Mitchell directed them to stop when they got to the middle of the yard where a blooming vine had run up and around an old metal post that was once the anchor of a clothesline. They wrestled her off the dolly and faced her toward the kitchen window. Mitchell looked at Consuela and she said something that he didn’t understand and then she went back into the kitchen. Russell stepped back from her and admired her strong arms, her caring eyes, her open hands, as if news of the Christ child would flow from her lips any second.
“I ain’t even gonna ask what you paid for her.”
“Good,” Mitchell said. “Let’s go eat.”
Back in the kitchen Mitchell put his hands back into the fish. The deep fryer sat on the porch just outside the kitchen door and he went back and forth from the fryer to the counter. Dropping fish in the fryer. Preparing more. Russell moved along with him, sipping at a beer, getting hungry. Soon there was a plate sitting in the middle of the table stacked high with crisp, golden fillets. While the men went back and forth Consuela had mixed the cabbage and carrots with some mayonnaise and oil and vinegar and pepper and a bowl of coleslaw sat next to the fish. When it was all ready Mitchell told Russell to open the fridge and get beers for everyone. He got the beers and then the ketchup and the hot sauce and then the three of them sat down around the table.