Caught in the Crotchfire

by Kim Hunt Harris

  “Shut up!” He shouted. He rubbed his head. “I would like to trust you, but I know I can’t. This has to stay in the family. I tried to trust Xavier and look what happened. He was about to rat us out and we had to lean too hard on him. No, Daddy’s right. When it comes to the important stuff, you can only trust family.”

  “Umm, well,” I said. “You’re lucky there. My family is small, but to the last person, they’re the ones I trust least.”

  He spared me a sympathetic glance. “That sucks.”

  “Tell me about it. I mean, I wasn’t anybody’s punching bag, so I didn’t have it as bad as you did. But my family is no bunch of saints, believe me.”

  “Tell me about it. Your friggin’ grandma is a little too trigger happy if you ask me.”

  “Yeah, umm, sorry about that. She’s a little on edge with all these…you know.”

  He paced and rubbed the back of his head.

  Viv ducked behind the big silver cooker.

  “Well, it’s almost over,” he said. “We’re down to the last few thousand now. So once we get Mario’s share and a couple others, we’ll have what we need to proceed.”

  He turned and looked at me, and I saw that once again, he realized that I was one of the things standing between him and his goal. I darted quick glances around the room, looking for a big knife or a stick or something, anything to knock him back a little. I couldn’t believe this odd little guy was that much of a threat, and yet the gun in his hand and the gash across Xavier’s head said otherwise.

  He caught me throwing glances around and started to follow my gaze, at the same time Viv had begun to rise from her hiding place. She realized he was turning toward her. Her eyes got big and she dropped like a stone.

  I don’t know what it was — the pent-up nerves, the way your senses are heightened in times of stress, and for me that happens to include the sense of humor, or something about the way Viv’s eyes had bugged out — or maybe it was just my own innate freak-show-ishness. But the whole thing suddenly struck me as hilarious.

  I barked out a loud braying laugh. I clamped my hands over my mouth, but it was too late.

  Five cocked his head and lowered his brow, confused.

  Which made it so much worse. Have you ever tried not to laugh while people looked at you like, “Why are you laughing?” And it’s the funniest thing ever?

  Probably that’s just me.

  I couldn’t breathe! I doubled over and told myself to get it together, but that has never been particularly effective for me.

  I looked up to see Five looking frantically around the place, trying to figure out just what the heck was so funny.

  In a panic, I whirled around and pounded on the metal door. “Viv! Viv, let me in! He’s going to kill me!”

  “Shut up!” Five stepped close and roared at me. “Just shut up and let me think!”

  I threw a glance over my shoulder. Beyond Five, Viv edged quietly up, the white rectangle lifted over her head.

  I whipped back around, afraid I would give her away.

  “Viv! Hurry! Let me in!” I pounded on the door.

  “Aaaiiiiieeeee!” With a war cry, Viv screamed and brought the white thing crashing down on Five’s head.

  Five froze. We all froze. Waiting for what, I didn’t know.

  Then his brow furrowed, and he slowly turned toward Viv.

  Then he collapsed.

  “Is he out?” I whispered, frantic.

  “I don’t know.” Viv bent a little but we were both afraid to get very close. He still held the gun. Pulling a face, she nudged at him with what I could see now was the heavy porcelain lid to the toilet tank from the women’s bathroom.

  Five made a snorting noise and sat up.

  Viv screeched and bashed him in the head again. He stayed down this time.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Peace on the Other Side

  The police showed up almost immediately. Two squad cars, then two more, then Bobby.

  He looked from Viv and me to Five, who was by this time sitting up again, albeit in handcuffs.

  “Okay, you two. Give me the story.”

  I told him, the words spilling out so fast that they made no sense. He finally put his hand on my arm and said, “Let’s go down to the station so we can get some quiet.”

  We followed him outside. G-Ma was talking to another cop, gesturing at the hole in her door furiously.

  “If you people would do your job and get those Bandits off the streets — ”

  Bobby stepped close to her. “I have it on good authority that arrests are imminent, ma’am.”

  G-Ma frowned, but that appeared to take some of the steam out of her. “Yes, well…not before my building is damaged and my peace of mind shattered. But…good.”

  “And how is your business?”

  G-Ma lifted her chin. “Never better.”

  “Is that right?” Bobby crossed his arms and looked around the empty motel. “All legal, I assume.”

  “Of course,” G-Ma said with a snort. “I’m converting the motel into a shopping center.” Her eyes met mine.

  I smiled. “What a fantastic idea,” I said.

  “Yes, well, I hear it’s worked very well for some places in Amarillo, so it should work even better here.”

  At the station, Viv and I explained to Bobby everything we’d learned, but it turned out we really hadn’t needed to. Xavier had gone straight from Five Star Auto to the cops and told them everything. They were in the process of getting arrest warrants and rounding up the Pigg men as we sat in Bobby’s office.

  Viv and I eventually staggered out of Bobby’s office. Down the hallway, I could see that Charlotte Clancy-Pigg, Emily Pigg, Desiree Pigg, and Mama Pigg were all in the front reception area, with various expressions from fear, anger, to contempt on their faces.

  Charlotte’s was definitely of the angry variety. She recognized me, giving me a curt nod as we walked down the hall toward them. As we approached, Mama Pigg was giving them all a lecture on the importance of standing by your family.

  One of them must have said something she didn’t care for, because Mama Pigg got indignant and said, “Then I feel sorry for you, and for your family. Because family doesn’t turn its back on family.”

  “Oh. My. God!” Charlotte stood with her arms folded tightly across her chest, vibrating with anger. “Would you shut up! This isn’t about family. It’s never been about family. It’s about Five! That loser!”

  The loud crack of Mama Pigg slapping Charlotte came so quick that I wasn’t sure I’d even seen it. But she did it, alright. Charlotte gasped and put her hand to her cheek, and Mama Pigg drew her shoulders back in defiance.

  The cop behind the desk slapped handcuffs on her, of course, and she had to sit on the bench all uncomfortable.

  I went over to Charlotte. I didn’t want to say something obnoxious, like, “Gosh, did your husband and his brothers really rob a bunch of businesses so your brother-in-law could have his own Krunchy Kreem franchise? Seriously?” But I had to say something.

  “Man,” I finally settled on. “This is some crazy stuff, huh?”

  She rolled her eyes, but I think it was more at the situation than it was at me.

  “Not for this bunch. Well, actually, yes, even for this bunch, this is crazy.” She glared at the other two sisters there. One was sitting on the bench with her legs crossed, trying to look like she did this every day of the week, but her foot was doing ninety-to-nothing. The third one was talking quietly to another cop.

  “You didn’t know?” I asked Charlotte.

  “Are you kidding me? Of course not. Apparently they had a whole system worked out. Five would provide the cars from his lot, and then four of the five would take their turns pulling the robberies. The fifth one was in charge of monitoring the police traffic and getting the hideaway spot for the car ready. Then after everything settled down again, they would take that car back to the lot and find another one to use the next time.” She shook her head again.
“I thought he was working overtime at the station.” She looked at the other wives. “I’m not sure how much they knew, but Randy knew better than to tell me something like this.”

  “Because he knew he wouldn’t have your support,” Mama Pigg said. “He knows what kind of wife you are. He knows he can’t count on you.”

  “Damn right he can’t count on me to support him in felony crime! I’m not one of the standard Pigg robot wives.”

  The sitting blonde glared at her. The taller one blinked coolly and went back to her hushed conversation.

  “And he knows I certainly wouldn’t have been in favor of doing it for Five.”

  “You’ve always resented Five. You never had a kind word to say about him.”

  “He’s a lazy loser who pulls everyone else down with him and expects Mommy to come clean up after him.”

  Mama Pigg stared straight ahead, her mouth tight. “You have no idea what it’s like, living with a head injury like that.”

  “I know what it’s like being in a family with someone living with a head injury like that. It’s disaster, followed by lame excuse, followed by disaster, followed by lame excuse. It’s having to make allowances and excuses for someone who isn’t mature enough to take care of himself.”

  “It’s not a question of maturity. He was fine until that accident.”

  “Then why was he in the accident in the first place? If he was so mature, what was he doing robbing that store?”

  “That wasn’t him, that was Xavier and you know it.” Mama Pigg blinked and shifted in her chair, her mouth drawing up tighter and tighter. “And besides. They were both punished for that.”

  “At least one of them learned his lesson.”

  Mama Pigg frowned and looked at the floor. “You’re so self-centered, you can’t even see it. Family is there for each other, always. You fight and make up and hurt each other and forgive each other. The whole reason for family is that there are people there who are guaranteed to have your back. No matter what.”

  Charlotte snorted. “Whatever you say. I’ll stick with my canine kids, thank you very much.”

  “Well, they are very cute,” I assured her. Then Viv and I left.

  I woke up Thursday morning feeling like I’d been hit by a truck. I was exhausted and it took all the energy I had to roll over and rub Stump’s belly. I felt guilty about leaving her alone with Frank for the past several nights. In true Pigg family fashion, I knew Stump had my back, no matter what, but she was going to destroy something of mine if I didn’t spend some cuddle time with her.

  I called Flo and asked if it would be okay if I took the day off.

  “I’m not sick or anything, I’m just really tired and could use a break. If we’re not too busy, I mean.”

  “No problem, honey,” Flo said. “You caught the Knife Point Bandits. You’ve earned a break. We can cover for you today.”

  So Stump and I lay on the sofa for half the day, while I took turns wondering if Tony was going to call and cancel our date, and trying not to think about it.

  Les showed up with tacos at lunchtime.

  “I went by Flo’s and they said you had taken the day off. You okay?”

  “Sure,” I said, unwrapping a taco and edging away from Stump’s sniffing snout. “I’m just tired.”

  “Late night?”

  I nodded as I crunched. “We solved the High Point Bandit case,” I said, trying to sound modest.

  Les laughed. “Is that right?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “No big deal.”

  “You know it’s all over the news, right?”

  “Oh. No, I didn’t know that.” I really should watch the news. “Crazy, huh? That family was robbing everyone so Five Pigg could open a Krunchy Kreem franchise.”

  “That’s what I heard. Clete Pigg justified it because it would benefit the entire neighborhood. Like a forced investment opportunity.” He shook his head. “Craziness.”

  I remembered something that I’d put at the back of my mind. “Jeez-O-Peet. One day last week, Viv and I were interviewing some of the robbery victims, and there was this guy who owned a dry cleaners and a donut shop. The cleaners was robbed, but not the donut shop. Because they knew it would go out of business, once a Krunchy Kreem moved in.”

  Les laughed and shook his head again. “I guess they were going by a moral code of some kind, even if it was a messed up one.”

  I ate my tacos and thought about moral codes: how we did what we thought was the right thing to do, even if our justifications or reasons didn’t make sense to anyone else. I thought about what Mama Pigg had said the night before. The whole point of family was to have people who had your back, no matter what. You fight and make up and hurt each other and forgive each other. I supposed that could translate to any group, though. We form groups because we feel a need to be a part of something bigger. Even though, sadly, it often didn’t work out the way it was supposed to.

  I thought of Mom.

  I thought of Tony.

  I sighed and looked at Les. “I have a feeling I know what you’re going to say, but…I have to ask anyway. How do you forgive a person who isn’t sorry?”

  “Holy spirit,” Les said.

  Of course. I knew better than to give voice to the groan of frustration in my head. But I needed to get some real answers.

  “The thing is, I know I need to forgive my mom. I can feel it. I know it’s the right thing to do. I know it’s the good thing to do — it will help me. And I want to. You know that. We’ve talked about this before. But Les, every time I think I’ve forgiven her, it just pops right back up. Over and over.”

  He nodded. “Forgiveness is rarely an event, Salem. It’s a process. It’s an over and over kind of thing.”

  “That’s what Trisha said, too. I have to tell you, I hate that.”

  He nodded again, unperturbed.

  “I mean, seriously. That is majorly unfair. If I can work up enough — enough whatever — to make that decision the first time, that should be enough. If I can say, okay, you damaged me, and you caused all this crap in my life that wouldn’t be there if you had been doing your job, but I’m going to forgive you — I should get the grand prize. I should get the peace. It should be mine. For keeps.”

  Les just smiled.

  “Seriously, Les. Why would God make it this way? I’m not the one who did anything wrong. I was the innocent bystander who got sucked into the tornado of dysfunction.”

  “I agree.”

  “So why should I be the one to have to do all the work?”

  “You’re not doing the work, Salem. The Holy Spirit is. You’re making the choice, over and over.”

  “It feels like work to me.” I sighed. There was no point pouring energy into trying to get Les on my side here. It wasn’t going to happen. “When I get to heaven, I’m going to take this one up with God. I told him in my prayer time yesterday that I thought there was a serious design flaw somewhere along the line.”

  He laughed and kissed the top of my head. “So, I take it the weekend didn’t go very well?”

  “Not at all. I did what you said. I didn’t miss the chance to make peace. I was even prepared to get to the peace on the other side of the conflict. But she wasn’t having any of it. She was defensive and blew it all off. I was making a big deal out of nothing. I was blaming her for all my bad choices. She did the best she could in an impossible situation, and I’m an ungrateful snot for not seeing that.”

  “And you’d hoped for…?”

  “I want her to be sorry! Les, she let — ” I stopped and swallowed. “She stood by and let me be raped when I was just a kid. And she won’t even acknowledge it. I want her to recognize that she had the power and the responsibility to protect me, to take care of me, and she didn’t do it. She failed. And I want her to recognize that, yes, I’ve made some bad decisions myself, but I made them based on the information that she gave me. That I wasn’t worth protecting. That I wasn’t worth taking care of.” I wadded up my taco wra
ppers and tossed them into the bag.

  “You know that everything you just said is true, right? It’s not dependent on her recognizing it. She had the responsibility, and she failed. It affected you. Those are facts. Whether she ever says it or not, it’s still all true. Her acknowledging it doesn’t make it true. It just is. You get that, right?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but then closed it again. Did I know that? “I guess I need to ponder that,” I finally said.

  He nodded. “Absolutely. Think on it, Salem. Truth is truth, whether she recognizes it or not.”

  I looked at him, feeling a faint flutter of something. Hope? Clarity?

  “She didn’t give you what you needed, and that’s a tragedy. But she’s not the only source, Salem. Your heavenly father wants to give you everything you missed out on. He wants to restore you to what you had before, what you should have. Every time that resentments pops back up, it’s nothing more than a block that needs to be dealt with. It’s real, and it’s justified, and you can acknowledge it for what it is. You have a right to feel what you feel, and I don’t recommend you pretend like that resentment isn’t there. But don’t camp out on it. Because it’s blocking the complete healing and restoration that God has for you. It’s not easy, Salem, but it is simple. You just make the choice, over and over.”

  I nodded, my throat tight and my heart full.

  He stood, then put a hand on my shoulder and leaned over so he could meet my eyes. “And Salem? I know she’s not sorry, but does it help to know that I am? I’m sorry that happened to you. So sorry. It shouldn’t have. It was wrong. It wasn’t your fault. And it was wrong.”

  Well, what else could I do but burst into tears? I nodded, sobbing, and then he folded me into his arms, and I sobbed some more. I finally pulled away, wiping my face with my hands.

  “That actually does help,” I said. I sniffed and rubbed at the damp tear marks on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “You deserve to have someone affirm you, Salem, and I’m glad to do it.”

  “I feel a lot better, Les. Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”