Family Thang

“When I get some money? I thought we were in this together.”

“When we get some money. It doesn’t matter, it’ll still look the same. It’ll look like you married me for the money.”

Eric put on his tough face and looked her in the eye. “Why you always worried what your family think? Huh? Who the hell are they? One’s a punk, one’s a hoe and one’s a nut.”

Shirley winced, lips pursing into a thin line. “Who’s the hoe?”

“Huh?”

“Who in my family you calling a hoe?”

“Robert Earl.”

She stared at him so intensely he looked away. “You know, there’s a lot of stuff you’ve done I’ve overlooked. A lot of stuff made me question my own self-esteem. You know—and you definitely should know by now!—I don’t take kindly to anyone talking down my family, especially my sister.”

Eric considered an apology, but feared another word out of his mouth would tip the stick on her broad shoulders. So he sat there staring at soggy flakes floating in lumpy low-fat powdered milk.

“And,” Shirley said, “now with my daddy gone… you know I’m not putting up with your bullshit!”

He noted the sharp emphasis on your bullshit. This wasn’t good. He could hear Shirley breathing, tense and raspy. He well knew not to say anything about her stupid family.

If he had known Shirley was the type of woman who would wig out, go spastic, fight and continue fighting long after her adversary had lost interest and energy, he would not have gotten involved with her. The air inside turned stifling hot. His armpits were dripping sweat.

Shirley said, “I know you were talking about Ruth Ann. Yes, she’s had a few boyfriends—she’s not a hoe.” He could see the shadow of her head on the table, rocking side to side. “She’s not a hoe! With your history you should never fix your lips to call anyone a hoe. Never!”

He wished she wasn’t sitting so close. A roundhouse to the side of his head, and lights out. He stood up. “I’m going outside, check on Paul.”

Shirley stood with him. “A damn good idea, ‘cause I’m itching to play double jeopardy with your ass!”

She moved past him, and an impulse suggested he sucker punch the back of her head. Do it!

Hell no!

If he hit her and didn’t knock her out, there would be hell to pay. She resumed her seat on the couch as he crossed to the front door. The air outside, though baking hot, felt cooler than inside.

“Shirley, I apologize. I don’t know anything about Ruth Ann. She ain’t a hoe—she just loves sucking dicks.”

He quickly stepped out onto the porch, slamming the door behind him… but it didn’t slam, didn’t go Blam!

He hurried down the steps, looking over his shoulder, thinking she wouldn’t come after him… Wrong!… She was right behind him… He yelped and cranked up to run… Too late!… A forearm wrapped under his chin and he was pulled up the steps.

She’s outside naked!

He couldn’t believe it.

He hooked his right foot into the balustrade. Now his body was suspended. “Cut it out, woman!” he said through clenched teeth. “Stop it, Shirley, fo’ the neighbors see us! Cut it out!” She pulled harder and his foot fell free. She almost had him inside the house when he grabbed either side of the doorframe.

“Stop it, Shirley! The neighbors watchin’! You hurtin’ my neck!” Hurt hell, if she kept pulling she’d break it.

Darlene appeared at the foot of the steps. “Shirley, is something wrong?”

“No shit!” Eric grunted.

“Help me… get him… inside,” Shirley said, panting. “Pry… his… fingers loose.”

If you do, Eric thought, I’ll burn your damned house down. Then, save his soul, he felt his legs being pulled in the opposite direction.

“Let him go!” Shirley demanded.

“No, Momma!” A child’s voice. Paul, his beloved son, here to rescue his father. Pull, boy, pull!

Shirley said, “Oh my God!” and let him go. He fell flat on his back with Paul still holding his legs.

“Let me go, boy!” Eric shouted, thinking he wasn’t out of danger just yet. Paul released his legs and he felt a jolt when his heels hit the porch.

“Daddy,” Paul said, “why you and Momma fighting?”

Eric looked over his shoulder. Shirley was nowhere in sight, the door closed.

“Why you fighting Momma, Daddy?”

He got to his feet. “Stop asking stupid questions, boy. Your momma wigged out again. I didn’t want to hurt her.”

“Hmmph!” Darlene snorted. “Looked to me you were about to get your ass whooped.”

“Go home, Darlene!” Eric said. “This family business. You can get hurt sticking your nose in family business.”

Darlene snorted again and walked up the steps. Shirley’s loud sobs drifted out when she opened the door.

“You hurt Momma!” Paul said.

“No, I didn’t. You saw her choking the shit outta me.” Paul poked out his mouth and balled up his fist. “You want some of me too, boy? Huh, do you?”

Paul moved around him, keeping close to the green aluminum siding to avoid coming within a few feet of his father, and then ran inside the house and slammed the door.

Eric walked down the sidewalk. Mr. Joyner, shirtless, sagging chest covered with gray hairs, was sitting on his porch. Eric waved at him. Mr. Joyner shook his head, didn’t wave back.

Thirty minutes later, Eric made his third pass in front of Ruth Ann’s house.

Two choices: either work up the courage to signal Ruth Ann or go home and deal with Shirley and that wayward boy. He walked to the end of the block, then turned and walked back.

Fuck this, before someone gets suspicious and calls the police.

But he had to see Ruth Ann, just had to.

Knock on the door and ask Hot Lips to go get Ruth Ann.

Lester wouldn’t think much of him visiting Ruth Ann, would he? Maybe, maybe not.

If Lester took offense, he might want to fight. Could he take Lester? Lester was taller and more muscular than he, yet Eric doubted Lester was quicker with his jabs.

What if he was bumping Lester’s head and Ruth Ann stepped in and helped her husband. Then what? And what if their psychotic son, Shane, decided to throw in a couple licks?

On his fourth pass in front of the house, the front door opened and Lester stepped out and sat on the porch swing. Eric lowered his head and picked up his pace. At the end of the block he wasn’t quite sure what to do.

Wait! Rewind the tape!

If Lester was outside trying to get a sunburn to match the skin around his lips, then Ruth Ann was inside, alone. All he had to do was sneak round back and signal her. Bold, but doable. He turned the corner.

He’d expected an asphalt alley; instead discovered a rancid creek streaming parallel to fenced and unfenced back yards. A large polka-dotted dog, untethered in an open yard, barked at him. He hoped it wouldn’t give chase.

A white woman came out and yelled at the dog to shut up, and her presence incited the dog to react more viciously. The woman gave him a wary look. He waved at her and kept walking. Will she call the police? He hoped not. At the back of Ruth Ann’s house he casually walked up the steps to the deck and tapped on the patio door.

“Ruth Ann?” attempting to whisper loudly. “Ruth Ann?” Something stank. Did they have a dog? “Ruth Ann?” He raised his right leg and inspected the bottom of his sandal. Nothing. He then noticed bones scattered on the deck. Neck bones! Why would they throw them here? Why not in the yard? A box lay near