I listen for a laugh—any kind of reaction—but all I hear is her heavy breath.
“What I said to you the other day, or didn’t say … that was wrong. It’s not too late for you … to make something of your life.” I swallow hard and press my palm against her door. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you’re not important. It’s been a tough year for all of us. But I’m going to be better. We all need to be better.”
I set down the plate in front of her door.
I’m walking toward the stairs when I hear her door creak open. I turn just in time to see the plate slide into her room and the door slam shut again.
She’s going to be okay. Jess is a tough girl. I just need to show her that I’m going to step up and lead this family.
It gives me the courage I need to face Mom. Enabling her isn’t helping anyone.
I turn on the light in the living room. Mom doesn’t even flinch. She’s sitting in the same position she was in yesterday. She looks awful, dark bags under her bloodshot eyes, but I’ve let this go on long enough.
“L.A.W.,” I say, watching her spine stiffen. “Why was Dad giving money to Lee Aric Wiggins?”
She clenches her jaw. “Don’t say that name in this house.”
Normally, that would be enough to shut me down, but I need answers. “It’s time,” I say as I crouch in front of her, forcing her to look at me.
Her chin begins to quiver, her eyes clouding up with tears. “We’re cursed,” she whispers. “Your dad was going to take care of it. He was going to fix it. And now, every time I see him, the burns, it reminds me of the shame he brought on this family … but something’s happening.”
“What is it? Tell me.”
“Shh…,” she whispers, as she peers over my shoulder, so she can get a better view.
“This has to stop,” I say as I snatch the flyswatter hanging from the nail in the kitchen. “This whole fly business is over.”
As I haul back the swatter, Mom jumps up from the couch and grabs on to my arm, but I don’t let her stop me this time. I shake her off, hauling back again and again, killing them without mercy. There must be fifty of them now. They don’t even move. They don’t try to get away. It’s almost like they’re asking for it.
When I’m finished, I drop the swatter and turn to find her crumpled up on the ground, her shoulders shaking. I feel a stab of guilt when I realize what I’ve done … what this place is doing to all of us.
“Mom, I’m sorry,” I say as I go to help her up.
She peers up at me through her disheveled hair. At first I think she’s crying, but she’s laughing, her face contorted with madness. “I can still hear them,” she whispers. “He’s coming. He’s coming for all of us. We’re all going to die.”
*
I’M SO exhausted, I don’t even try getting Mom in bed this time.
When I get back to my room, my phone is vibrating. It’s a text from Ali.
I’ve been thinking about the prophecy thing. Miss G has it all wrong, but I think I know the source. It’s from an old book in the council archives at PS.
Can you show it to me?
Sure. Anytime.;)
Now?
Too risky. How about tomorrow? We’ll have the whole place to ourselves. After practice. Meet in parking lot?
K.
This is going to sound weird, but I had fun today.
I let out an unexpected laugh. Definitely weird, but me, too.
It vibrates again, but it’s just Dale calling for the millionth time. One of the things I always liked about him was that he never treated me any different after what happened with my dad, but I don’t think I can stand hearing him talk about Ben, or not talking about him. Probably best to avoid him for now with everything that’s going on. He’s my second cousin and the last thing I want to do is hurt his feelings.
I turn off the phone and pull out the family Bible. I know my dad wasn’t in his right mind at the end, but why would he write Lee’s initials on such an important family document? And why was he giving him money? I’m sure as hell not going to get any straight answers out of my mom, not in her condition, which leaves me with only one option. I could hang around Merritt’s, wait for him to find me, or I could go straight to the source. I know where he deals. I know where he lives. He probably doesn’t think I have the balls to go out there, but he’s dead wrong.
44
JESS STAYED scarce again this morning—wasn’t begging me for a ride. I think about barging in her room to give her a pep talk, tell her to get back on the horse and all that crap, like Dad used to do, but maybe she just needs a few more days to herself before she goes back to school. And if I’m being honest, I’m not ready to deal with it either.
I could use some cheering up, so I take Noodle to school instead.
“Did you see the plane?” Noodle asks.
I look up in the sky.
“Not here, silly. Over the farm.”
“What, Mr. Wilson’s crop duster?”
“Smaller than that.”
“Like one of those drones?”