Desperation Road

“Tornado.”

“Your dad told me the brothers been having a go at you.”

“I told you the same thing already.”

“How serious you think they are?”

Russell sat up. “Don’t know how serious they are together. But I think Larry is pretty serious on his own.”

“He’s always been the crazy one. He went nuts on his wife a few times. Ex-wife now. Stupid shit. Knocked her around good with the kid in the house over next to nothing. Can’t even see them no more, I don’t think. Now he’s married to some looker but word is she’ll pass it around. She’d better be careful is all I know.”

“I’m not too worried about him.”

“I’d say riding around with a loaded twenty-gauge is a fair sign you are.”

“That’s the reason I’m not worried. If I didn’t have it and it wasn’t loaded then I’d be worried.”

“I got you,” Boyd said and he stood up. “I hated asking all this. You know that.”

“I know it.”

“And you know I believe every word you say.”

“I know it,” Russell said and he stood and they shook hands.

“It was good to see your daddy. And I was sorry about your momma.”

“Yeah.”

Boyd walked to the front door and let himself out and Russell stood in the window and watched him walk to the cruiser. Boyd sat down behind the wheel and glanced at himself in the rearview mirror and ran his fingers across the top of his thin hair. Then he backed out and he was gone.

Russell stood in the window like a store mannequin. Maben and the child will have to leave, he thought. There’s no way around it.

He walked back to the sofa and drank his coffee and when he was done he went into the kitchen for another cup. He poured it and stood at the kitchen window this time. Across the street a woman dragged a sprinkler into the front yard and she turned it on and then a small child just old enough to run came out from under the carport wearing only a diaper. He walked into the yard and when the water hit him he squealed and he ran away and then he kept running in and out of the water and kept on squealing and his mother laughed and laughed and laughed.

God only knows what might happen if they find her out at Dad’s place, he thought. What she’ll say to stay free. She’s already killed one man when cornered and I’m not going back. Goddamn fingers are already pointing at me and I didn’t even do nothing.

He poured the coffee down the drain and stood there watching the boy in the sprinkler and he knew that rough lives got rougher and he hated it for the girl and he hated it for Maben. And he hated that there wasn’t going to be a happy ending and then he wondered how much longer he was going to have to keep that shotgun loaded.


He took a shower and then he drove out to his dad’s place to see about them. He got out of the truck and as he walked around the house he saw them out by the pond. His father and Consuela and Annalee. No Maben. The Virgin Mary with the sun on her face. His father waved to him and he walked out. It seemed to be getting hotter and brighter every day and he had broken a sweat by the time he reached the pond. The three of them wore fishing caps to keep the glare from their eyes, the child’s hat too big and hanging down across her eyebrows.

“Catching anything?” Russell asked.

Annalee peeped out from under the hat. “I got two. One big one.”

“Nearly dragged her in,” Mitchell said.

“And you,” said Consuela.

“I was wondering when she was gonna say something,” Russell said.

“She can say a lot. She likes to listen mostly,” Mitchell answered.

“Where’s your mom?” Russell asked.

“Up there.”

“Still sleeping, I reckon,” Mitchell said.

Russell left them and walked to the barn and up into the room. The room was cold after a full day of air-conditioning and Maben was asleep with a blanket pulled up to her chin. Russell sat down in a chair across the room and watched her. Trying to figure out what to say. How to say it. From outside he heard the child cheer at having caught another fish. A half hour passed and he sat and waited. Crossed and uncrossed his legs. Finally she stirred. First turning over and then sitting up and yawning and stretching and the blanket falling to her waist. She looked over and saw Russell sitting in the chair.

“I’m so tired,” she said.

“I thought you’d be.”

“Tired like I can’t do no more. You ever been tired like that?”

“Sometimes.”

“Where’s Annalee?”

“Out at the pond.”

“With who?”

“My dad and Consuela.”

She stretched again. Yawned again.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the shelter?” he asked.

She licked at her lips. Dry and chapped. “How you know about that?”

“A friend of mine. A deputy. Came to see me this morning.”

“For what?”

“I was riding around out there the night it happened. Figured they had to come and ask me about it. Told me they got nothing. But the shelter lady had called the cops about some woman with a gun who had run out of there.”

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