*
I have never been good with anger, never knew what to do with it, and I was angry now. The names of towns flew by, but I had no interest in exploring. I had no sense of where I was and made no attempt to calm down.
When you had a child like Ethan, bitterness was a constant temptation. It was always there, scratching at your door, trying to lure you to dark places. Over the years, I had done my best to resist its call, but many, many times I succumbed and allowed myself a good wallow. I was knee-deep in a serious wallow now, I knew that, but made no effort to pull myself out.
“I’m doing this for you,” I said to Ethan. “I know you don’t understand, but I am.”
I pressed the gas and switched lanes, Mindy and the others following close. When I made an abrupt move around a car, they all stayed right with me.
Ethan remained oblivious, transfixed at first by the Etch A Sketch and later by my phone, which, unlike his unusable one, had lights, buttons, sounds.
I drove faster, the van pulsating. In that moment I wanted to lose my family, leave my life behind. I wanted to escape, literally and figuratively. The girls, Mary, Ethan. It was more than anyone could bear.
Sixty-five, seventy, seventy-five, eighty. I gripped the wheel with two hands and sped on.
*
In the parking lot of the truck stop, Mindy staged another ambush, this time with her car. She swung so close to me that I had to jump back, spilling some of my coffee.
“Watch it!”
She lowered her window and peered over the top of her sunglasses. “This isn’t funny anymore.”
“Mindy! Hello! Hello! Hello!”
“I’m not trying to be funny. That’s your job.”
“Mom can’t keep up.”
“Where is she?”
“Where. Mom. Be?”
“She’s in front of us now. She missed the exit and pulled over onto the shoulder. She’s waiting for us.”
“Where’s the other one?”
Mindy pointed at Karen’s car at the far end of the parking lot.
“Hey, Ethan,” she said. “Do you want to come with me? We can get pickles.”
“Yes!”
“Knock it off,” I hissed.
“Pickles!”
“Don’t try to bribe him; don’t do that. Just leave. I can take Ethan and do this myself. Even though I’m such a bad father, even though I’m such a pathetic, self-absorbed, whiny drunk, I can handle it.”
“Mom has to sign the papers.”
“Trust me, she’ll sign them.”
Mindy raised her window and drove off.
*
About an hour later, inside a North Carolina visitors’ center, Karen accosted Ethan and me by the maps.
When he saw her approaching, Ethan jumped up and down with excitement, almost dropping the can of Sprite I had just bought him. “Karen! Karen! Karen! Karen!”
“Funny running into you,” I said.
“You’re an asshole, Dad.”
“Please try to watch what you say.” I wiped Ethan’s mouth with the back of my hand, then returned to the large wall map that confirmed that we were just a few miles from Virginia.
“You’re a selfish person,” she said.
“I’m selfish? I’m the one who takes care of him. I feed him, I bathe him, I wipe his ass. And I’m selfish. You know, you could come visit him more often.”
“You’re going to get us all killed!”
“No one is getting killed, okay, so cut the drama!”
A young overweight mother wearing plaid shorts and pushing a stroller stopped and stared at us. This was not surprising, since Karen and I were more or less shouting at each other.
“Is everything all right?” she asked in a soft Southern accent.
“Everything’s fine,” I said.
Karen pointed at me. “He’s taking my brother to an institution!”
I looked wildly at Karen, then back at the woman, and felt compelled to explain. “It’s not an institution. She’s wrong. It’s a home.”
“It’s an institution,” Karen said. “He’s dumping him!”
“I’m not dumping him. Stop saying that.”
“Yes, you are!”
The woman’s eyes bounced back and forth between Karen and me before settling on Karen, who apparently appeared more sane.
“Do you need help? Should I call the police?”
Karen fell silent, as if considering this option. “No,” she finally said. “But he’s taking him to an institution, and we’re trying to stop him.”
“It’s not an institution!” I yelled. “It’s a home and it’s very nice!”
Ethan jumped up and down. “It’s. Nice. Outside!”
The woman hurried off.
“Where. Mom. Be?”
“Where’s your mother?” I asked.
Karen took off her sunglasses and stepped close to me. “What do you care?”
I took a step back. “You’re right; I don’t. Tell her she should go home. All of you should. I can do this alone. I don’t need anyone’s help.”
“You’re right. You’re the only one who cares.”
“Sometimes I think I am. You couldn’t move away fast enough. Ethan has always been my problem, always. You and Mindy check in when it’s convenient.”
“You’re his father,” she said.