“Shirley, please! I don’t want to die!”
“I’m sure you don’t. Didn’t you think I’d be a teeny weenie bit upset when I found out about you and Eric? Didn’t you think Shirley might ding out and do something drastic?”
“Yes, I did!”
“Anything you have to say before you go?”
“Please, Shirley! Please! Don’t do this to me!”
Shirley thumbed the trigger. “That’s it? Nothing for Momma? Shane? Lester? What about Eric? Surely you want to leave him a message.”
Ruth Ann covered her face with both hands. “Oh God!”
“One last thing before you go. Do you love him?”
“Love who?”
“Lil Wayne, dammit! You know who!”
“Just shoot me and get it over with!”
“Take your hands down and look at me! And answer the damn question! Do you love him?”
Ruth Ann shook her head… and felt the gun on the back of her hand.
“Take your hands down and talk to me or I’ll shoot you in your knee.”
Ruth Ann dropped her hands and said, “No! No, I do not!”
“Tell me why, Ruth Ann? Why were you fucking him?”
Ruth Ann stared at her knees, opened her mouth and closed it. A lone tear trickled down her face.
“Shirley, I don’t know why!” She started crying. “I’m sorry, Shirley. I’m so sorry! I never meant to hurt you. I swear I didn’t. It just happened. It shouldn’t have happened, but it happened. I swear to God I never intended to hurt you! Never! Go ahead, Shirley, kill me! I don’t deserve to live! Kill me!”
“You’re so right,” backing up a step. “Close your eyes, you’ll never know what hit you.”
Ruth Ann’s eyes bulged. “Wait a minute, Shirley!” She raised her hands, shielding her face. “Just wait a minute! Maybe we could work this out another way. Why don’t you just beat me down? Okay? You don’t have to shoot me. Just beat me bloody!”
“You do your dirt and when it’s time to pay the piper, you squeal like a chicken.”
“Bawk-bawk-bawk-bawk!”
“Funny. Doesn’t change anything. Have a nice trip. See ya!”
Ruth Ann closed her eyes.
She opened one eye… Shirley was sitting on the bed, the gun on the floor between them. She rolled onto the floor, grabbed the gun and pointed it at Shirley. “Don’t move!”
Shirley rolled her eyes at her. “I knew you would do that. It’s a pellet gun, Ruth Ann, and it’s not loaded.”
“Pellet gun?” She read the word on the barrel.
“Sit down and listen to what I have to say.”
Ruth Ann shuffled to the couch, staring at the gun.
“Each month Mrs. Avery sends me a two hundred-dollar check. Lord knows I need the money. The twenty years I worked for Mrs. Avery I always did what she told me, never stole anything, never disrespected her—and, believe me, some days she almost drove me crazy.
“When Obama got elected something snapped in Mrs. Avery. I’d be working and she’d come get me, want me to listen to a multi-millionaire got rich sitting on his butt dissing welfare recipients complain about a paltry increase in the minimum wage, ignoring the fact if he’d went deaf before he got rich, he’d be praising Obamacare.
“‘Mrs. Avery, I don’t have time for this! I got work to do.’
“‘Listen, Shirley, you’ll learn something.’
“‘The man is out of touch, thinks black folks still saying ‘right on, right on’ and ‘jive honky.’
“‘Y’all don’t say that anymore?’
“‘Not since the seventies. Bo Snerdley should update him.’
“‘Shirley, you know he’s trying to take our future and country away from us.’
“‘Is he? He must’ve relapsed on OxyContin.’
“‘Not him! Your president.’
“‘How is he trying to do all that?’
“She never answered that one.
“‘Shirley, look what he’s done to your people.’
“‘
“‘Nothing! He’s done nothing for your people! African American unemployment has skyrocketed a whopping two percent since he’s been in office.’
“Now she and I both know if President Obama so much as declared Popsicle Day for African Americans, she and a buncha other like-minded people would take to the streets, pulling their hair out and stomping their feet in one mass hysterical hissy conniption. The back-in-the-day bunch will be in the mix, too, crying it ain’t enough and looking for a shitty-assed mule. I know the history, but I feel sorry for anyone who desires to own a mule.
“Last year Mrs. Avery’s husband died and she found out her youngest boy had blown all their millions on cocaine and leveraged funds. Now she lives in a ratty duplex on Mallory Street and walks seven miles each day back and forth to work at McDonalds. Poor, just like me and a lotta other folks. Each week faced with tough decisions. Rent or fill the prescription? Food or the light bill? Not enough money to do both. Kid’s clothes or the gas bill?
“You either got it or you don’t. If you ain’t got it, you need to figure a way to get it or learn to live without it. Doesn’t matter what you used to have, what you used to do, what you gonna do when you get it again. All anyone cares about is do you have it now. Everywhere you go—bank, hospital, courthouse, wherever—the second someone sees you don’t have it now, you might as well sit down because you fixin’ to wait a long time. ‘You ain’t got no money, what’s your rush?’ The more money involved, the longer the wait.
“I know Mrs. Avery is having a helluva hard time adjusting to now and she can’t afford to send me two hundred dollars. She can barely feed herself. She thinks I’m in far worse shape than she. So each check I put in another envelope and mail it back to her with a note. Thank You, Mrs. Avery, But There Are Some Things I Cannot Do. This Is One Of Them.
“Ruth Ann, someone could have a put a gun to my head and I would not have done what you did to me. Never! Hungry, dead broke, living on the street, there are some things you should never do.”
“Shirley, you’re not going to beat me down?”
“You didn’t hear a damn thing I said, did you? Not one word. It doesn’t matter. You’re no longer my sister. You’re bad news. Somebody ask you who I am, tell em you don’t know. Tell em I’m an acquaintance, someone you used to know. Don’t tell em I’m your sister because you’re no longer related to me in any way.”
Ruth Ann laid the gun on the couch and stood up. “I do love you, Shirley.”
“Don’t you dare! You hear me? Don’t ever say that shit to me again!”
Ruth Ann swallowed. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Do I look like I’m bullshitting? I’m not! Sit down and let me finish what I have to say. Where’s Shane?”
“Out hunting. Shirley, how long we supposed to act like we’re not sisters?”
“Forever! Shut up and listen! I want a life, a real life, not this nightmare I’m currently living. I aim to have it, one way or the other. I also want Eric. He’s a dog, a dirty dog, but he’s my dog. I picked him and I’m keeping him. I’m not giving him up to you or no one else. We’re still getting married. No, before you ask, you’re not welcome at the wedding. Don’t even send a card. I’ve thought about this long and hard, and there’s no reason to change my plans because my former sister doesn’t give a fuck about nobody but herself.
“I want a computer for my son. A car for Mrs. Avery so she can at least drive to work. I want a home of my own. You know how I’m going to get all this? The money Daddy left for us, is how. Once I get it, Eric, Paul and me, we’re getting the hell out of Dawson. You feel me, Ruth Ann?”
Ruth Ann nodded.
“Good. Then you’ll have no problem helping me out, will you?”
“Uh, what do you want me to do?”
“Help me catch whoever killed Daddy.”
