Like good shadows, me and Sal snuck downstairs to listen outside Dad’s study door, which hadn’t closed completely in the latch, allowing us to hear the sheriff.
“The woman at children’s services has said that if he returned here after his escape, it meant he felt safe amongst y’all and it’d be more psychologically harmin’ to take him away and place him with a different foster family. Accordin’ to her, he’s in a fragile state at the moment. Possibly abandoned in the first place, so he’s fearful of losin’ another home.”
“Is that true?” I whispered to Sal.
He placed his trembling finger to his lips.
“She says as long as you’re able to provide a safe and healthy environment for the boy, then she don’t have no problem with his stayin’ here for the time bein’. She knows about the accidents but not to the extent of the boy bein’ thought responsible. And after the promise from Elohim today, I feel no need to elaborate on the details with her.
“Folks only started believin’ those things about the boy ’cause of that midget in the first place, and if he swears he’ll turn things around with their thinkin’, then so be it. Lord knows why he suddenly wants that boy to stay. For the sake of calm, I’ll have to think nothin’ of it, though I’ll keep my eye on Elohim. I advise you to do the same.
“I told her you and Stella are very willin’ for Sal to stay here. I assured her you’re a respectable family. She likes that you’re a lawyer ’n’ all. She’s gonna be payin’ ya a visit in a couple days to check things out. I suspect she’ll look ’round the house, ask y’all a couple of questions, so I’d make sure Grand and Fieldin’ are here if need be. If she deems it all proper, you’ll be granted temporary custody of the boy.”
Suddenly the study door was yanked open the rest of the way. Me and Sal slowly raised our heads to see Dad shaking his and looking down at us.
“Go on up to bed, you two. I’ll be up in a little while.”
He made sure we climbed up the stairs before returning to the sheriff.
“So?” I asked Sal once we were in my room.
“So what?” He fell back in the window bed.
“I mean ain’tcha happy you’re stayin’? You’re lucky Elohim stopped the sheriff.”
“I don’t need Elohim. I’m the devil. No one tells me when to stay and when to leave. But it sure is nice to be wanted. I tell you, Fielding, it sure is nice to be wanted right in this very place.”
9
Where all life dies, death lives, Nature breeds,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
These yelling monsters
—MILTON, PARADISE LOST 2:624, 795
SHE CAME IN a large black car with candy bar wrappers all over the passenger seat. Her breath smelled like Butterfingers. Her shirt had coffee stains. Her gold bracelets dangled over the clipboard and her fake nails, in radioactive green, scratched the paper as she put the little checks in the little boxes. She was children’s services, and she spoke mostly to Mom and Dad. She did ask me and Grand things like, Do you get along with Sal? Would you mind him staying with you for a while? Is there any reason his staying would be a bad idea?
Yes, we answered. No, we said. And if there were any reasons, we couldn’t think of them. We fibbed on that last one, but Dad had said we were not to bring up Dovey or the runner with the gone spine.
She and her clipboard went through the house, wanted to see where Sal slept, things like that. At the end, she gave Dad and Mom some papers to sign. Temporary is what the papers said, though Dad still kneeled in front of Sal and said he was one of us now.
“Did you know that before you came along, Sal, our four-person family was too small to own our name?” Dad held up the piece of paper he’d written our name on so he could illustrate his point. “I had the B, Mother there had the L, Grand had the I, and Fielding had the S. But this second S here has been waiting to be claimed this entire time. You, Sal, you are the last S in our name. You are the wholeness of our family.”
So we were, suddenly a family of five, and June wasn’t even over yet. By that time, sweat lived on us, leaving our skin stuck between the sensation and the response to that unbearable heat. While the sweat dripped, dropped, and flowed, it seemed at times to press upon us like dry twigs threatening to spark.
Owing to that longstanding advice on how to stay cool, an aerial view of Breathed would have captured a town of pastel seersucker and beige linen. No one wore anything heavier. There were those who dared to free themselves of clothes altogether and nap quietly bare on the banks of the river or stretch out in their backyards with the garden hoses. At first those who went naked tended to unintentionally build fences of young masturbators, but soon orgasms, even the most triumphant ones, became too minuscule a wage for the labors of the hand in such a roasting heat.