Fatal Catch

by Roxe Anne

  “I guess,” Billie says hesitantly.

  We go back into the house to make our calls. I am happy not to be sleeping in the dark barn all night. I’ll gladly share the rest of my candy with Billie and Katie.

  “Okay, Billie, I said you could make the first phone call. Do you remember what to say when someone answers?”

  “When someone answers the phone I say, ‘Hello, do you have Prince Albert in a can? If they say yes, I say, ‘Well then you better go let him out. Is that okay, Katie?”

  “That’s it, Billie. You’ve got it!”

  The first call Billie makes, no one is home. He almost starts crying. Tears well up in his eyes. Katie assures him he can continue calling people until someone answers. It takes about five calls before anyone knows what he is talking about. Billie is having so much fun Katie lets him call a few more people. One person actually swears at Billie and asks him if his parents know what he is doing. He hangs up on them fast. Katie says I can go next. Then we will each take turns.

  I ask people if their refrigerator is running. If they answer yes, I tell them they better hurry up and fetch it before it gets away.

  We continue our prank calls until about ten o’clock. The jokes are beginning to get old. The people we call aren’t amused. We go back to working on our puzzle until midnight. Mama will love seeing the completed puzzle in the morning.

  Chapter Eleven

  It is hotter than the devil in the bedrooms upstairs. The air is stuffy, and I feel like someone is smothering me. I can’t roll over in bed. The sheets are wet with sweat and sticking to my body.

  There isn’t any breeze coming in through the open window. Even the crickets are quiet. Once in a while you can hear a car drive past our house. I know eventually one of the cars will be Mama and Uncle Frank’s.

  I sleep for what seems like only minutes when I hear a car pull into our driveway. As the car door opens, I hear Mama and Uncle Frank giggling like teenagers.

  “Oops, I must have tripped,” Mama says, laughing and stumbling on the driveway.

  Uncle Frank is trying to hold her up, but about every fifth step they both stumble. The next time she pulls Uncle Frank down with her. They both get back up after several tries and take a few more steps toward our garage door. I hope none of the neighbors see them.

  As they reach the house, they fall and knock over the metal garbage cans. It makes such a racket the neighbor’s black lab starts howling. With that, comes a chorus of all the other neighbor’s dogs. Sandy usually doesn’t chime in. Mama argued with Uncle Riley, but Sandy seems to be vicious when it comes to Uncle Frank fighting with Mama. Mama usually cuddles Sandy and holds on to her like a stuffed toy taunting Uncle Frank.

  I can see a few lights going on in some of the neighbors’ homes. I hope they don’t call the police.

  “Frank, you have to be quieter,” Mama whispers quite loud. “The neighbors will hear us, shhh….”

  Being quiet isn’t Mama’s best trait when she is drunk. Even when she whispers, you can hear her in the next room. Uncle Frank is never quiet. He doesn’t even attempt to talk soft. He says real men don’t whisper.

  I swear I can smell alcohol on their breath from my upstairs bedroom window. They smell like they fell into a brewery.

  There is a register in the floor where I can usually observe and hear what is going on in the kitchen. I lie down on the hot, sticky wood floor and watch through the register. It is almost as good as watching television if we had one to watch. The last time I saw television is when we went to Daddy’s boss’ house to watch the Wizard of Oz in color.

  Mama and Uncle Frank get another bottle of beer from the refrigerator and continue drinking. They just take a drink from their beer bottle and then puff on their cigarettes. Once in a while, I can see Uncle Frank blowing smoke rings to impress Mama. She has been blowing smoke rings for as long as I can remember. I even saw her smoke a long skinny cigar once.

  After a few more beers, the laughing stops cold. Their voices grow steadily louder.

  Sandy decides she isn’t going to take Uncle Frank’s yelling at Mama any longer. The fighting is getting far too serious. She starts snarling and growling at Uncle Frank. She wants him to know she means business. Uncle Frank kicks Sandy across the kitchen floor and makes her yelp.

  “Frank, don’t you ever touch my dog again. If she’s hurt, you are going to pay the vet bill! Do you hear me?”

  Frank is rattling on so fast I can’t understand a word he says.

  Mama holds onto her kitchen chair trying desperately to stand. She holds on to the table with one hand and smacks Uncle Frank with the other. “Get out of my house! Don’t come back!”

  Uncle Frank grabs Mama’s arm so quick after she smacks him in the face, it causes her to lose her balance; falling to the kitchen floor with him still holding on to her arm.

  “Frank, you’re hurting me! Let go! Oww…let me go….”

  “Dot, does it hurt?” Uncle Frank asks, jerking her arm harder. He shoves her face down onto the floor with her arm twisted behind her back. “One of these days I’m going to have to kill you! Tell me you’re sorry!”

  “I’ll never tell you, oww…I’m oww… sorry… you bastard! Get out…oww…of my house now or I’m calling the police!”

  Uncle Frank lets go of Mama’s arm. She crawls to a chair to pull herself up from the floor. Then she stumbles over to the kitchen counter. She opens a drawer and pulls out a large rolling pin. ”You bastard! You’ll never touch me again!”

  Uncle Frank staggers toward Mama and tries to grab her arm again. As he reaches for her arm, Mama swings the rolling pin with all her might. It lands smack in the middle of his ugly forehead. Uncle Frank falls backward. Blood oozes all over our clean kitchen floor. The small amount of hair on Uncle Frank’s head is now crimson red. I think Mama killed Uncle Frank right there in our kitchen. She has blood all over her clothes and on her hands. She raises the rolling pin up ready to strike Uncle Frank again.

  “Frank, get up I’m not through with you yet!” Mama yells.

  Uncle Frank doesn’t move. His eyes are red from blood trickling down his face. He just lies on our kitchen floor in his own blood, lifeless.

  • • •

  “Katie, get up. I think Mama’s gone and killed Uncle Frank. He’s lying dead on our kitchen floor. Get up, Katie!” I whisper, trying not to cry.

  I try shaking her. “Hmm, what do you want, Missy?” A drowsy Katie asks as she turns over in bed.

  “Katie, I’m serious. Please wake up. Mama’s gone and killed Uncle Frank!”

  “It’s late, Missy. You just had a bad dream. Go back to sleep and let me get some rest.”

  “I’m serious, just come and look for yourself.”

  Katie climbs out of her bed and looks through the register on the floor.

  “How do you know Mama killed him, Missy?”

  “I saw her hit him in the head with her rolling pin.”

  “There sure is a lot of blood. I can’t see if his eyes are open.” Katie acknowledges.

  Mama stares at Uncle Frank and says nothing. She doesn’t move. Her usually tan face is pale.

  “What do you think we should do? Do you think they’ll put Mama in jail? Will we have to go to an orphanage? They’ll probably split us up. Maybe we should wake Billie up and run away!” I cry.

  “Quiet. Let me think for a minute.” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “We better wake Billie up and help him pack his bags. Try to keep him quiet. We don’t want Mama to know we saw anything yet. We’ll wait until we know she isn’t in shock. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, Katie. What about Uncle Frank?”

  “Just pack your bags and don’t tell Billie what you saw. We’ll just tell him we are going to stay at Aunt May and Uncle Jimmy’s for a week.”

  “Billie, wake up, we’re going on a little vacation to Aunt May and Uncle Jimmy’s. You need to pack your bag. I’ll help you. Gather up your army men and a couple of comic books. I’ll st
art packing your clothes,” Katie calmly tells him.

  “I want to go to sleep. Wake me up in the morning,” Billie says yawning. He could sleep through a tornado if one were to come through his bedroom window.

  Katie shakes Billie again. “Billie, wake up! We have to pack tonight. I’ll let you get dressed and then you better start packing your stuff.”

  We go back to the register to see if Mama has moved. Maybe Mama wants us to help her bury Uncle Frank’s body in our back yard.

  Mama is still sitting on the floor next to Uncle Frank. Tears are streaming down her face. There are streaks of Uncle Frank’s blood on her face from wiping them. She was really mad at Uncle Frank, but I don’t think she meant to kill him.

  “Missy, I’m going to have to go down and help Mama. When you’re finished packing your bags, help Billie pack his. Throw some clothes and makeup in a bag for me, too, would you?”

  “Be careful, Katie. I’m not sure if Mama knows what she’s doing. Try and get Sandy to come upstairs before Uncle Frank tries to kill her again—if he ever wakes up. He already tried kicking her to death!” I state.

  “Don’t worry. We’re going to be all right. I will do everything possible to keep our family together!”

  Katie sure can act mature when she has to. She makes me feel safe. I know she won’t let anyone separate our family. Maybe she is going to help Mama bury Uncle Frank’s body. He is pretty heavy. I’m sure they will need my help. Maybe we can put him in my red wagon to carry him. We better bury him deep so Sandy doesn’t dig him up.

  Billie packs his toys while I pack the rest of his clothes. I make sure he has enough underwear and socks for a week. He wants to pack every comic book he owns, which must be close to a hundred. I finally convince him to pack ten.

  “Missy, they lay flat and don’t take much space. I don’t need any socks. Please let me take them.”

  Billie never likes anyone touching his comic books. If he catches you looking at one of his comic books, he tears the cover off. He even tears the covers off his brand new comic books so you won’t know they are new. I like to keep my books looking like they are brand new and never used even though most of them come from garage sales.

  “Billie, what if we get some spending money and you purchase new comics; how will you bring them home?”

  Finally, Billie gives in and packs what I ask. I think he is too tired to argue.

  “If you want, you can go back to sleep until Katie and I are through packing our stuff, but you have to make sure Sandy stays in your room.”

  “That’s a deal, Missy! Goodnight. I’m tired. We stayed up too late already,” Billie says, as he wraps his arms tighter around Sandy’s neck.

  It isn’t five minutes, and Billie and Sandy are sound asleep. Good, then maybe Billie won’t ever know we had to bury old Uncle Frank to save Mama from going to jail, and Sandy won’t ever know where to dig up Uncle Frank’s body. Maybe we can bury him in Mama’s compost heap, that’s where she puts a lot of her garbage to rot. Next summer old Uncle Frank might just be pushing up daisies.

  Billie looks peaceful sleeping in his bed. I hope this won’t be the last time I see him sleeping there.

  I go downstairs to help Katie and Mama bury old Uncle Frank. He must weigh at least two times what Mama weighs.

  “Mama, are you all right? Mama, do you hear me?” A worried Katie asks.

  “It’s going to be okay, Mama. We’ll help you. Tell us what you want us to do.”

  Finally, Mama turns to look at us. She starts crying hysterically. She turns toward Uncle Frank’s body and just stares at it again. She is beginning to sober up now and must realize what she’s done.

  Mama stands staring at the bloody body on the kitchen floor. “I think I killed Frank!”

  “Are you sure he’s dead?” Katie asks.

  Mama looks alert now. There is a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

  She tries wiping some of the blood off of Uncle Frank’s face. “Katie, we have to see if he has a pulse. Help me see if he is breathing. Oh God, let him be alive! What have I done?”

  Mama checks Uncle Frank’s pulse then listens to his chest. I say a short prayer for all of us.

  “Katie, call an ambulance, Frank’s still alive. I can barely get a pulse. Tell them to hurry. Then help me wash up some of the blood. Oh God, what am I going to do? I don’t want to lose you kids. I don’t want to go to jail. Frank! Frank…wake up. You can’t die on me. Please, wake up. Missy, go pack your bags. I’ll see if Aunt May and Uncle Jimmy will come and get you kids until this mess is straightened out. Please hurry, we don’t have much time.”

  “Mama, we already have our bags packed,” Katie says. “We packed them before we came downstairs.”

  She looks confused but doesn’t ask Katie any questions. There will be a lot of questions asked when the police and paramedics arrive. I pray to God that if old Uncle Frank is still alive, Mama doesn’t go to jail and we don’t go to any orphanage.

  Mama and Katie clean up old Uncle Frank and all his blood on our kitchen floor. She puts a red checked oil cloth under his head to keep the blood from flowing on the freshly washed floor.

  “You know girls; you need to stop listening to my conversations through the register upstairs. I’m glad you helped me with Frank, but one of these times you are going to get yourselves hurt.”

  “But Mama—”

  “We can finish this conversation later. I need to call your Aunt May.”

  Mama barely gets through talking to Aunt May when we hear sirens. It doesn’t sound like just a siren from an ambulance. It sounds like the whole police department!

  All the neighbors’ dogs are howling in unison. I’m sure the neighbors are awake by now. It’s too bad we just couldn’t have buried old Uncle Frank quietly in our backyard. I saw them do it in the movies.

  You can hear the sirens for miles. When the police from the surrounding towns have a slow night, they listen to other police calls to get the latest gossip. They don’t want to be the last to hear what happened the next day from Charlene, the waitress at Dixie’s Donut Hole up the road.

  It sounds like a parade on the Fourth of July with all the local police, fire, and ambulance sirens blaring. Maybe they figure Mama has gone and killed Uncle Frank for real this time. It sure will be a lot quieter around our house if she has.

  We can hear Sandy howling from Billie’s bedroom window. Lights are going on in bedrooms all around the neighborhood. I will never be able to face any of our neighbors again.

  When Katie called for an ambulance, the dispatcher asked her a lot of questions she answered truthfully to the best of her knowledge. She told the dispatcher, “Mama hit Uncle Frank over the head with a rolling pin after he had pinned her face down on the kitchen floor. He had her arm twisted behind her back. They both had been drinking and were quarrelling before she hit him smack in the middle of his forehead!”

  The dispatcher wanted to know if Uncle Frank was still breathing. Katie told her Uncle Frank lost a lot of blood and is unconscious, but he still has a faint pulse. Then she tells them they had better arrive quickly.

  When the ambulance arrives, the drivers put Uncle Frank on the stretcher and take him to Dixon Hospital. Mama can go there later to see how he is doing. First, she has to talk to the police.

  Mama is friends with most of the police officers from the area. In fact, Uncle Riley is still the Chief of police. When Daddy died he assisted with all the necessary arrangements that come with an accidental death or at least that’s what they called it. I heard Uncle Riley tell Mama they didn’t have any proof someone ran him into the telephone pole, but it looked suspicious.

  A very good looking police officer places his arm around Mama. “Damn, Dot, what did you go and try to kill Frank for? You could have just kicked him out and I would have taken care of you, darling!”

  Another charming officer interrupts. “Uh hum—Dot, you should have known a rolling pin would do a lot of damage to that man of yours!”

/>   “You sure got yourself in a pickle this time. You better hope Frank wakes up soon or I won’t be able to help you out. Sit down and tell me what went on here tonight,” Chief Riley tells Mama, as he points to a kitchen chair.

  Chief Riley and some of his officers ask Mama questions for about an hour. Then they question Katie and me.

  Aunt May and Uncle Jimmy arrive not long after the police and ambulance. They are escorted to the porch and are told to stay there until they are finished questioning all of us.

  “Dot, do you need a ride to the hospital? I have to go there anyway and ask Frank some questions when he wakes up. In fact, this isn’t the only case I need to discuss with Frank. You really should think about moving Frank out. I have a bad feeling about this man!” He says concerned, as he gives Mama a more than comforting hug.

  “That would be nice, Riley. Thanks for wanting to protect us, but as you can see, I can handle myself. Jimmy and May are going to take the kids for the night. I just hope Frank lives. I don’t know who will raise my kids. Jimmy and May have enough trouble raising their own!”

  Uncle Riley ruffles my hair. “I’m always here for you and the kids, Dot. I need to know you are all safe. I’ll finish up with the rest of the investigation, and then we’ll leave. Do what you have to for your kids.”

  Everyone else is gone except a few police officers, Aunt May, and Uncle Jimmy. It is sure quiet in our kitchen now. Mama lets out a big sigh as she slumps into a kitchen chair. “What am I going to do, May? Frank has to be okay, I can’t afford to miss work and I sure don’t want to go to jail for killing him!”

  “We can drop you off at the hospital and take the kids for the night if you want us to.” Aunt May tells Mama. She hands her a freshly brewed, strong cup of coffee trying to sober her up. “You had best not drive yourself tonight, Hun!”

  “Thanks, May, for all you’re doing and coming out here in the middle of the night. Riley is going to take me to the hospital. He still has a few questions for Frank.”