He got out of the truck and slammed the door. Then opened it and slammed it again. And again and again.
I had never seen him this mad. In fact, I don’t think I’d seen anyone so mad, even Dad, and it was scary.
“Wow,” I whispered.
“Shhh,” Bart said, and he grabbed my hand. It would have been nice and I would have maybe felt embarrassed but things were too tense. Plus, he was trembling.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
He shook his head, still watching Grant who was now kicking things. He was kicking an old gas can, he kicked a pile of boxes. He walked over to Melody’s house and kicked the side of her trailer.
She came out and he said, “Stay away from me.”
And she said, “What’s going on Grant? Where’s Bob?”
She spoke calm and collected. Like she was trying to soothe him. I realized maybe Melody cared about Grant even though he was such a dumb-bum.
“I don’t care where Bob is and you stay away from me.”
He climbed up on his trailer then.
“What is he doing,” Bart whispered.
I had no idea. I had really no idea and I told Bart that.
Grant started swearing again and kicking more things off the top of the roof, which were leaves and dirty water and then an old bucket which was ours, and how did that get up there?
Melody stood below watching with her hands on her hips.
Then Mrs. Sydney Gunnerson came out. I looked at Bart to see if he was thinking, “Oh, I know that lady. I do Water Zumba with her.” But his face didn’t flinch or say anything.
“What’s going on?” Mrs. Sydney Gunnerson asked Melody.
“No idea. I think we should call Bob.”
“We should call the cops,” Mrs. Sydney Gunnerson said.
Melody looked at her. “No. He’s just upset.”
He was ignoring all of this. Instead he was climbing back down and then getting his dumb radio and then climbing back up.
“Grant,” Melody said. “What are you doing?”
He ignored her. He got up there and then he turned on a song and started singing with it like he was in a concert in an amphitheater or something. “Welcome to the jungle,” he screamed.
Now Tandi came out.
And Carlene.
“Grant!” Melody said.
He kept screaming.
Randy was standing by his trailer watering his pots and watching.
Baby George and his mom.
When Grant got to the end of the song, he chucked his radio onto the ground.
And we all sort of gasped as it shattered to pieces on the concrete.
“I DON’T CARE!” he yelled.
My body got cold then. This wasn’t a joke at all.
Bart squeezed my hand and Grant really did look so bad.
He was crying and he’d climbed back down and was kicking things.
He was kicking the grass. He kicked his own truck. And then he acted like he was going to kick Mrs. Sydney Gunnerson’s Cadillac and she said, “Oh no you don’t, you old coward.”
“What did you call me?” he yelled. “What did you just call me?”
I thought Mrs. Sydney Gunnerson would be scared because he was scary; he was out of control. But Mrs. Sydney Gunnerson didn’t look shaken at all. She just stood there and said, “You leave my Caddy alone, you brute. Just because you don’t know how to live your life don’t mean you can ruin ours.”
This got him hopping. Hopping up and down.
“Oh you think I’m ruining your life, Sydney? Who ruined whose life? Huh? Who ruined whose life?”
Mrs. Sydney Gunnerson said, “Grant, I am not getting involved in whatever you’re talking about but if you don’t get off my property I will call the police and they will not waste a second hauling your sorry butt into jail.”
Grant was going crazy now. He was squatting and pointing to himself. Stabbing himself really hard with his pointer finger. “You’re going to call the cops on me? ME?” He looked around wildly. “What have I ever done to anyone? What? Has every woman gone crazy?”
He was making no sense. I was going to tell this to Bart but he was still gripping my hand hard and he hadn’t moved an inch.
So I decided to hold still. Wait.
“Calm down, Grant,” Paul the MMA fighter said. He was walking up and Grant said, “You want to beat me up, Paul? You wanna?”
And Mrs. Sydney Gunnerson said, “Do it.”
And Melody said, “Someone stop this. Will someone please stop this? Please?”
No one made a move except Paul, who I was pretty sure could kill Grant if he wanted.
Melody came down her stairs. “Please. Someone. Stop this.”
Grant pointed at her. “Go inside.”
~
That’s when Mom came out.
~
I was shocked because for a while now she hardly ever came out unless it was to get in her car and drive away. And especially not to get involved in neighborhood fights. But now she was out of the house and the entire air changed.
Everyone looked at her.
She stood big even though she wasn’t big. She stood big and said, “Grant. Is this about that woman?”
His eyes were wild. What woman? What was she talking about? Trinity? That was like two years ago.
“What do you know, LeAnn?” he said.
Mom didn’t move. She had him in a death stare.
“Did she hurt you?” Mom asked.
Grant’s face started to tremble.
He shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come over here,” Mom said.
“I’m kind of busy,” Grant said.
“I can see that and I don’t care. I need to tell you something and then you can let Paul over there beat the crap out of you.”
Grant looked at Paul. Then back at Mom. He was sweating and huffing and you could tell things were turning in his head.
“Come on, Grant,” she said. “I need to go back to my nap.”
“He’s out of control, LeAnn. Let me take care of this,” Paul said.
Mom scoffed. “I’m not scared of old Grant. He would never hurt me, right, Grant?”
Grant swore, then he said, “Nah.”
And Mom said, “Back off, Paul.”
Paul took a step back.
Then Grant, he walked over to our porch and my mom, in her ratty old muumuu and her hair up in her sleeping bun, she leaned down and whispered something in his ear.
We all watched.
This time the whole place froze.
For my mom.
What could she possibly be saying?
Grant listened.
He nodded.
She kept talking.
And I swear this really happened, a tear rolled down his cheek.
And then, like she did stuff like this every day, she did this: She came down the steps and she hugged him.
Sweaty old dumb-bum Grant.
Hard.
My mom hugged Grant hard.
I bit my lip. Didn’t look at Bart, who didn’t look at me, either, I was sure. The whole thing was too much.
And Grant started really crying then. Heaving and sobbing, and Mom, holding him.
Holding him and saying, “I know. I know. I know. It’s okay. I know.”
And him nodding and wiping his nose and nodding.
The whole world on pause for the two of them.
Then, as fast as it had started, it was over.
He pulled away, wiped his nose with the back of his hand, took a deep dark breath and said, “I’m going inside.”
And then he did.
“What did she say?” Bart wanted to know. We were still on the tr
amp.
I shrugged.
The whole place was silent, wind chimes tinkling in the afternoon breeze.
No one ever would have known that just a few moments ago somebody was about to get his brains busted in by his neighbor.
“Are they friends?” Bart asked.
Were they? And the more I thought about it, yes. They were friends.
I said, “Yes.”
“They are?” he asked again.
“Sure,” I said.
This seemed important to Bart. Then he said, “Can you ask her what she said?”
Bart was looking at me. “Can you?”
I nodded. “I’ll try later.”
“Why not now?” he said. He wasn’t holding my hand anymore and anything that had felt different only ten minutes before had vanished.
“I don’t know,” I said. “She’s probably sleeping.”
“She just went inside.”
“I know but she goes to sleep really fast.”
The two of us lay there. Me thinking about how strange this whole afternoon had turned out. Him, I have no idea what he was thinking but probably about my mom.
“I wish my mom was like your mom,” he said.
“What?”
“You know,” he said. “She seemed tough.”
I couldn’t believe that was what he thought.
“She’s not tough,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
He was quiet.
I was quiet.
Then he said, “I know you bring Berkeley to school.”
I looked at him, my stomach a washing machine. “How do you know that?”
“It’s not like she’s invisible.”
Oh crap oh crap oh crap. If Bart had seen her, who else had?
For some reason, and I know this is stupid, for some reason, I kind of thought she was invisible. I thought we both were because no one had noticed us by now.
“When did you find out?”
“I saw you guys back a week ago when you were supposed to meet me but then you didn’t.”
“You saw us?”
He nodded. Then he said, “And I’ve seen you guys every day after.”
Now my gut ached.
“Why didn’t you come help me?” I said, my heart pounding. “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you talk to me?”
Everything started coming out and I should have stopped myself but I didn’t. “I don’t have anyone to help me. Why didn’t you say something? Where were you? Where did you see us?” and on and on and on and on and on.
When I finally stopped I felt hot and red and he looked hot and red and he said . . .
~
He said . . .
~
“Sorry.”
~
Sorry.
I said nothing, my eyes tired.
He said, “I’m really sorry. I thought you didn’t want my help because you didn’t meet me.”
He said, “I should have said something. I should’ve done something. I’m not good at doing things.”
He kept talking. “I don’t like school and you saw. You saw. I don’t belong there. The teachers hate me.”
I said nothing.
“Every day, every day,” he said, “I try to make myself stay. Try to stay. Go to class. Sit still. Sit there. Sit there. Listen. Do what they say. Focus. They say focus, focus, Harrison,” he hesitated, his voice wobbly. Then he said, “If I miss any more school I might get held back so I have to go but I’m trying not to get noticed. I want no one to see me.”
He looked at me. “It’s better for me if no one sees me. Like you and Berkeley.”
I nodded.
He nodded.
And we sat there.
And sat there.
And sat there.
Finally, he said, “You know, because of the FBI.”
The sun was easing behind the lake, the colors splattered across the sky. Oranges. Purples. Pinks. And even though I was mad and confused and sad and mad mad mad, even though that, it felt good to be outside, with him.
He tapped my hand with his finger. I looked at him. “I’ve been watching out for you guys though. I made sure you were safe.”
I took a breath.
And even if I didn’t know how he could be watching out for us, even if there was no way he could be keeping us safe, even though it didn’t make any sense, I took a real breath for the first time in a long long time.
............
Dear Dad,
I guess Grant has a really bad temper. There was almost a fight but Mom broke it up. I’d never seen her do something like that before. Sometimes I think I don’t know her so well. But you know her really well, right? Is she tough? Did she used to be tough?
Also, do you still love her? I guess you don’t. Why don’t you? Did she change? Or is she the same? Did you change? How did you decide to stop loving her? Is it something you can turn off and turn on?
When Grant got mad and Mom stopped the fight, I asked her what happened, what she’d said, and she told me that Grant is in love. I said how do you know? And she said, did you see how mad he got?
I’ve been thinking about that. Does love make you mad? Why? And if it does, why does it? Mom does seem mad a lot and I realized maybe it’s because she still loves you. Is that why? Do you know? And if she does but you aren’t here, that means it doesn’t end even if the person you love is done loving you. I think that sucks.
Are you done loving her?
Also, Mom really hates our neighbor Melody and I don’t understand why. Melody’s husband is gone all the time and sometimes he comes back and she’s happy but most of the time he’s gone and Melody is all alone. Mom’s not alone. She has me and Berk and does she still have you? Do you guys call each other? Do you text each other? Do you send her letters and tell her you miss her? Or do you not miss her at all? Even if you don’t love her anymore, wouldn’t you still miss her? Because you lived together and got married and had kids together so I think that would mean you would miss her, that you’d be friends, or at least think about each other but maybe not?
Does anyone love someone forever? And what happens to all those good things and memories when you stop? Do they disappear? Have you forgotten when you used to dance with her in the living room or when we all sat on that dock by the lake one time and you said, this is what I love. Were you lying?
Do you lie?
Do you have a girlfriend?
Olivia
............
I stared at the screen.
I shouldn’t send it. I knew that.
But he probably never read them anyway.
The night was dark and out the window I saw Grant sitting on his front step. Bob was talking to him and he was nodding. Then Bob went inside and Grant, he looked up at the moon, and I could see he’d been crying. He wiped his nose with his shirt.
I stared at him.
~
Then I clicked send.
The next day when I took Berk to school, I was more careful.
I made sure to take extra precautions like varying our routine and taking different routes. I even drew a map of the school and potential exits in case we were compromised:
I didn’t see Bart but I knew he was watching and I hoped he was helping. Not waiting to turn us in.
~
My goals at school were these:
Take care of Berkeley.
Smile.
Keep everything normal.
Draw no attention to myself.
Not get caught.
~
My goals at home were these:
Make Mom eat.
Figure out why Mom is working late and not putting Berk in day care.
Make Mom talk more. (Sh
e had gotten back to being quieter except to tell Berk she wouldn’t sing at the circus.)
Do the laundry.
Change the air filters on the swamp cooler.
Clean the bathroom, especially the floor.
Enter more contests.
~
I made all my school goals on Monday but the home goals were harder.
I changed the filters.
I did the laundry.
I sort of cleaned the bathroom but it was gross.
I entered more contests, even ones that weren’t so good like I could win a complete set of Louis L’Amour books, which I don’t even know who that is.
I did all that but the Mom goals were harder.
She got home late again and didn’t talk even though I waited up and when I got her cereal and Diet Coke in the morning, she only took the Coke.
Same thing on Tuesday.
Then, on Wednesday night, she got in a huge huge screaming fight with Tandi on our front patio.
Tandi was yelling at her about work. Something about not doing a good job on a house. One she was covering for Tandi.
And Mom said something quiet.
She had been watching Wheel of Fortune and me and Berk were playing Operation but without batteries because they ran out, when Tandi came over and told her to come talk to her outside.
At first the conversation was quiet. But then it got loud.
Tandi yelled again. “I got you this job and I’m not going to lose it because of you.”
Mom: “I’m sorry, Tandi, okay? I’ve had a lot going on.”
Tandi: “Oh come on, LeAnn. You’ve had a year to get your crap together.”
Then Tandi went on and on about things that had been happening. Houses. Clients. Money. She said something about me and Berk. I held my breath.
Did she know?
Did she know?
But then she didn’t say anything about school or day care so maybe she didn’t. And was Mom going to lose her job?
I looked at Berk and she looked at me. Both of us frozen. I took her hand.
Finally, when it all ended and Tandi said, “You need to get it together, LeAnn. And soon.”
Mom said: “Get off my property.”
And then Tandi laughed like this was the most hilarious thing in the whole world.
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