The Goddesses

by Swan Huntley

  Quickly—he was losing patience—Chuck said, “It was fine, thanks.”

  “We were just talking about college,” Ana informed him. “I was telling all four of these boys they need to go to college.” She pounded the table once and laughed.

  “Absolutely,” Chuck agreed.

  Jed whispered something to Liko.

  “No whispering at the dinner table,” I said.

  Liko’s eyes got big. His mouth turned into an O. “Dude,” he said to Ana, “you were a stripper?”

  Chuck furrowed his brow. He couldn’t tell if this was true or not.

  “Does that intimidate you, Liko?” Ana asked him. Her eyes were dark and spinning, and she was sweeping her pointer finger through the candle flame now, back and forth and back and forth.

  “Hell no, it doesn’t intimidate me,” Liko said, sitting up straighter.

  “She made six grand in one night,” Jed blurted out.

  “Daaaaayum,” Liko said.

  Tom nodded like this information was very interesting. Cam shifted in his chair. Jed’s face flushed.

  Chuck said, “I’m going to the bathroom,” not very cheerily, and left the table again.

  When I realized I’d been twirling the same bite of pasta for way too long—I’d only taken one bite this whole time—I gave up and put the fork down.

  Ana said, “I used to dance for guys like you, Liko. I know guys like you like I know the back of my hand.” She trailed the back of her hand through the flame.

  “What do you mean, guys like me?” Liko’s joker smile. He was acting like he didn’t care what she thought of him but of course he did. He wanted to know what kind of guy she thought he was.

  “Small guys,” Ana said, “with big trucks.”

  “That’s right I got a big truck,” Liko said, and held his hand up for a high five from Jed, who slapped it. “Got the big-ass wheels.”

  The toilet flushing, Chuck coming down the hall, and then there he was, looking like he’d been smacked. The bottle was gone from his pocket. He must have stowed it behind the toilet. Or drunk the whole thing.

  “What kind of car do you drive?” Liko asked Ana, proud that he had finally come up with a retort.

  “Jeep Wrangler,” she said. “Purple. It’s in the driveway.”

  “Oh yeah, I saw that thaaaang,” Liko said.

  “Nice car,” Tom said, maybe because he hadn’t spoken in a while and felt that when invited to dinner, you should say things every so often.

  “Thank you, Tom,” Ana said effusively, and Tom smiled, which wiped the worry off Cam’s face.

  “Hondas are the best car,” Chuck said to no one or everyone. “They last forever.”

  Ana grabbed a candle and held it to her face. “The eternal Honda,” she said in a spooky voice.

  Liko looked at her. “You’re kinda batshit, yeah?”

  “Meeee?” Ana said, placing a hand on her heart.

  “Yeah girl, you,” Liko said. That joker smile and the tomato fragment lodged between his two front teeth.

  “Moi?” Ana dramatized a look of disbelief. “A girl?”

  “Yeah, girl, you girl.” Liko pointed at her with both hands.

  “Boys,” Chuck said, “should we talk about H-two-oh polo?”

  Oh, Chuck. He was trying to do things right, and he was doing them so wrong.

  “No, Dad, let’s not,” Jed said, rolling his eyes for Liko.

  “No? Come on, boys!” Chuck put his hands on Liko and Tom’s shoulders and shook them a little. Tom took it because he was polite and Liko put his hand on Chuck’s shoulder and shook back hard enough for Chuck to say, “Whoa there, Nelly.”

  The song ended, and in the silence, we all heard Cam whisper to Tom, “Are you okay?”

  Fine, Tom mouthed, embarrassed because we were all looking at him.

  “Are you okaaaaay, sweetie pooooo?” Liko said in a baby voice.

  “Shut up, dude,” Cam said, and rubbed the sweat from his temples.

  Liko’s head danced in a zigzag don’t-mess-with-me pattern. “Why should I shut up?” With every word, his body moved into a slightly different position.

  Tom looked at his lap. Ana leaned forward and touched the tips of her fingers together and glared at Liko. My neck was prickling. I set my water glass down. No one spoke.

  Until Liko said, “You guys are obviously boyfriend boyfriend. You should just tell everyone.” And then he was laughing hard and slapping his belly.

  The kinder part of me could tell how uncomfortable he was, and the Mom part of me wanted to attack this horrible child, whose obvious destiny was to become a convicted felon.

  Cam crossed his arms over his chest to make himself smaller. Tom was still looking at his lap.

  “Okay,” I said sternly. But I didn’t know what else to say. Not my proudest moment.

  Chuck was looking at Tom and at Cam and at Tom and at Cam, and when they didn’t defend themselves, he brought his hands to his cheeks slowly and then he was muttering something under his breath.

  “Chuck,” I said, trying to snap him out of it.

  “Oh shit, you didn’t know that?” Liko widened his eyes.

  A bead of sweat rolled from Jed’s hairline down to his nose.

  Ana pressed her palms together, staring straight at Liko.

  My neck was on fire.

  Gently, Tom put his hand on Cam’s shoulder.

  “You,” Ana said to Liko, “are going to get what you deserve.”

  “You’re batshit, lady,” Liko said and wagged his finger, but he was obviously a little scared.

  “Cam, why don’t you and Tom go outside?” Ana said, which was exactly the right thing to say, and why hadn’t I said it first?

  Cam nodded. He stood. Tom stood. They walked toward the door. It was silent except for Bob Marley. The happy beating drums of reggae music—it was just so absolutely wrong right now.

  For a few beats, no one moved. And then Chuck squeaked his chair back and followed them out of the house. To tell Cam that he loved him, I hoped.

  Liko relaxed into the chair and checked his phone. Ana was still boring a hole into his head with her eyes.

  “Liko,” I said.

  He didn’t answer. From his phone, an arcade noise. Like a pinball machine.

  “Liko,” Ana said.

  Liko didn’t look up. He flicked us off.

  “Dude,” Jed said, “that’s my mom.”

  The sound of a car starting in the driveway.

  “Where are they going?” Jed asked. And then he sprang up. “I’ll go check.”

  I should go outside, I thought. But something made me stay. Maybe it was the look Ana gave me. A mutual understanding, though I couldn’t have articulated it then.

  Liko put his phone away. He rolled out of his chair like a stuntman. “I’m gonna pee and then I am outta this mess.” He went to the bathroom.

  I got up. I looked out the window. The boys’ car was gone, and Tom’s car was gone. I hoped Chuck wasn’t driving.

  I started pacing. Back and forth, back and forth along the wooden floor beams I could barely see in the near dark.

  The toilet flushed.

  I looked up. Ana was standing by the front door. I had no idea why.

  The bathroom door opened. Ana flicked the light. The living room lit up. I stopped pacing.

  Liko walking down the hall. Right in front of me he stopped. He stood there, his feet inches from mine, and stared at me. The pimples on his nose. His small black eyes, full of hate. I thought I saw his lip quiver. And then his lips, curling back. I expected him to growl. He looked like a pit bull. “What you gonna do?” he said, heavy Hawaiian accent and his whole body seething.

  I was going to kill this person.

  And then Liko was done staring me down. He pushed past me, bumping my shoulder on the way.

  “Hey!” I said. I felt my fingers press into my palms.

  Liko kept walking.

  “Hey!” I said again.

&nbs
p; Ana was blocking the door. She was standing squarely in front of it.

  “Move,” Liko said.

  Ana said nothing. She just blinked at him.

  “You’re going to apologize to Cam.” I was behind him now, right behind him, yelling into his hair.

  He turned. “Cam’s a little bitch!” he said, right into my face, his nose almost touching my nose, and then he spat on my floor.

  And almost before the spit had touched the floor, my fist was smashing into Liko’s cheek.

  And my initial reaction—what is wrong with you, Nancy?—was yes! Because I hadn’t punched anyone in a long, long time, and I’d forgotten how good it could feel. Like such a release. Like the simplest way to solve a problem. So basic. Just use your hands.

  Liko was stunned. His mouth was hanging open. Saliva dripping off his lip and there was blood in it.

  I couldn’t feel my hand. I couldn’t feel anything.

  If Liko had said anything else in that moment, I know I would have punched him again.

  But he didn’t say anything else. Maybe he knew I would have punched him again. My fists were still clenched. I had become the pit bull.

  Ana stepped away from the door.

  Liko took a step. He took another step. He didn’t look at us. He walked out of the house.

  Why wasn’t I shaking? I looked at Ana. Why wasn’t she?

  We were the same height, so our eyes were level.

  We said nothing.

  The only sound was the reggae song, and it was a song about love.

  27

  “Nan?”

  Warmth. Comfort. Encased in cement. Outside, the birds.

  “Na-aaaan?”

  Fingers tucking hair behind my ear. I opened my eyes. Ana. And light, too much. Light all around her face, radiating like a wallet-sized portrait of a saint. Her face in shadow. No wig. Just her plain bare head, as bald and smooth as an apple.

  “Honey, it’s time to wake up now,” she cooed.

  “Mmm.” The reality of this day was expanding when I wanted it to contract. But it was already there, covering me in light and words. I was thirsty. I didn’t want to move. If I moved, if I reached for the water glass, I would be a body again and it would be over.

  “Those pills really knocked you out, Nan.”

  Oh—it all rushed back, the whole night—no. I gasped a sharp breath. I opened my mouth several times like a fish. My tongue was made of sandpaper.

  She held out the water glass. It was dirty in the light. “Have some.”

  I didn’t speak. I didn’t move. But I was blinking rapidly, trying to find my thoughts.

  Ana set the glass back down.

  Drunk Chuck. Poor Cam. Tom. Jed. Where had they gone last night? Were they okay? And Liko. Liko. My fist crashing into his cheek. How could I have done that? After all this time?

  “Nan?”

  My hands on the sheets. Unbruised, unscratched. “I hit a child,” I whispered.

  “Oh please.” And then Ana said exactly what I wanted her to say, exactly what the other voice inside me was saying. “He deserved it.”

  “What if he tells? Oh God, what if he tells his mother? Or the police?”

  “He’s a thug,” Ana said, her hand firm on my leg. “Thugs don’t talk to cops. Trust me.”

  “Did they come home last night? Where’s Cam?” The last thing I remembered was looking out the window, waiting for the blue Honda to reappear. None of them had picked up their phones, and that’s when I’d decided to thank Alan Jeffries for his pills and go to sleep.

  “Well, that’s why I’m waking you up, honey. Someone burned a sign last night at the high school and the boys got dragged in for questioning.” She laughed. “The pigs just called. We have to go pick them up.”

  “What?” I sat up.

  “I pretended to be you on the phone. I did a really good job. You would have been proud.”

  “Oh my God, Ana,” I said somewhat disapprovingly, although, really, I was glad she’d taken the call instead of me. The last thing I wanted to do right now was talk to cops.

  “No, Nan, not ‘Oh my God.’ Oh my free will.” She whipped the covers off me. “Now get up! We are brave mama bears today. Let’s fucking own it.”

  I didn’t think. I got up.

  “You’re going to take a shower. And wash away that guilt!” She took my hand and led me into the bathroom and turned on the water. “We need to leave in ten minutes,” she said, pulling my pants down, pants I didn’t remember putting on. “When you get out of this shower”—she unbuttoned my pajama top—“you will not feel guilty, Nan.” She looked straight into my eyes. “Do you hear me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now go. Wash your sins away! I’ll make coffee.” She closed the door.

  •

  Ana and I, walking hand in hand into the police station. I wore a light scarf. I didn’t take my sunglasses off. I spoke in a low voice. When the clerk couldn’t hear what I was saying, Ana explained for me. There were uniformed people everywhere, and I was waiting for one of them to slam me against the wall and cuff me. This one or this one or this one. I could only see their feet.

  I signed a piece of paper. The boys came out. Their familiar flip-flops. “Free to go,” a uniform said.

  Ana said, “Thank you, kind sir.” And we left. And then we were in the parking lot, and then we were getting into the Jeep, and then we were driving through the fields of lava, and it was more surreal than usual.

  “Boys,” I began, and before I could say anything else, Ana said, “Did you light this fire or what?”

  In the rearview mirror, I saw Cam turn to his brother.

  “No,” Jed said, “we did not.”

  Cam put his sunglasses on. “No, we did not,” he repeated.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Mom,” Jed said, keeping his voice steady.

  “Yes, Mom,” Cam repeated.

  I didn’t believe them.

  “Let’s talk alibis.” Ana adjusted her sunglasses. “Where did you go last night?”

  “In circles, basically,” Jed said. “Dad kept asking Cam how he felt about being gay.”

  “Yeah,” Cam said, “and I was like, ‘Dad, I don’t know. It feels the same as being straight, probably.’ ”

  “And he wanted to know when Cam figured it out,” Jed said, “and all this other stuff.”

  “I know Dad loves me though,” Cam said.

  “Because he said that like nine hundred times, too,” Jed said.

  “Freaking Dad.” Cam sighed.

  “Dad was a hot mess last night,” Jed said.

  “Oh, and he thought he saw some chick he knew named Brenda, and he was all, ‘Brendaaaa!’ out the window, and he made me pull over, and—”

  “—and the chick was like, ‘Um, sir, I’m not Brenda,’ ” Cam finished.

  “That part was actually kind of funny,” Jed said.

  “Totally,” Cam agreed.

  “The chick was like, ‘My name is not Brenda, sir,’ ” Jed said, and laughed.

  I tried to say it with curiosity. “Who’s Brenda?”

  “Who knows,” Jed said.

  I tried to breathe. “What did this not Brenda woman look like?”

  “Um,” Jed said, “like a woman?”

  “She was wearing a tube top and some shorts,” Cam said. “And walking down Ali’i with her friend.”

  “And she had blue eyes and blond hair,” Jed said.

  “Oooooooh.” Ana hit my arm. “Was she walking toward her red car, by chance?”

  “I don’t know,” Cam said.

  “Did your father say anything else about this Brenda person?”

  “No,” Jed said.

  “No,” Cam repeated.

  “Interesting.” Ana nodded.

  And then Jed, who was so naïve, asked, “Why do you care so much, Mom?”

  And Cam, who was just as naïve, said, “Yeah, Mom, who cares?”

  So I told myself to dr
op it for now. It was a good thing the boys didn’t see this Brenda person as a threat. It meant that they were still wholesome. We hadn’t ruined them completely. And maybe their not getting it wasn’t that surprising either, since we’d never told them about Shelly.

  I tried to focus on the rushing wind. On the fields of lava. On the salt air. On the sky. And then there was Ana’s voice. “Brendaaaaaa.” And I felt like I was losing my mind again.

  A whole minute might have passed. I was trying to imagine it. The boys and Chuck in the car and Chuck yelling “Brenda!” at this woman—ugh—and then them driving in circles and then—and then what?

  “How long did you drive in circles?”

  “And where did you go?” Ana asked. “Were you near the high school?”

  “No,” Jed said. “We went to Magic’s, then to town, then back to Magic’s, then Dad wanted Denny’s.”

  “But he was passed out by the time we got to Denny’s,” Cam said, “so we came home.”

  “You didn’t stop to light a li’l old fire on the way home?” Ana pretended to light a lighter.

  “No,” Jed said.

  Cam didn’t answer.

  I knew that was exactly what they’d done. And to think of Chuck passed out in the car while they did it—that was a bold move. In a way I knew was wrong, I was almost proud of them. At least they were expressing anger without hurting other people. Except for, I guess, the taxpayers who would have to pay for the damages.

  “Hey,” Ana said, “how’s Liko doing? Did you guys see him this morning? Is he wearing a Band-Aid on his face?”

  “Wait,” Cam said.

  “Did you punch Liko?” Jed asked.

  “He told everyone he got jumped by an ice dealer,” Cam said.

  “Your mother is the one who punched Liko, boys.” Ana patted the top of my head.

  “No way,” Jed said.

  “Way,” Ana told him.

  “Dude, Mom, you rock!” Jed said.

  “Yeah. Whoa. Go, Mom,” Cam said.

  “But he’s doing okay?” I asked.

  “He’s totally fine,” Jed said.

  “Yeah, Mom, he’s totally fine,” Cam said.

  “Mom punched Liko!” Jed clapped his hands a few times. “Dude!”

  “You’re a badass, Mom,” Cam said.

  I might have been trying not to smile. Ana turned up the road toward the high school. “I want to see where the fire happened. I love ashes.”