people forever, Jack Landry," she called after him, but
he didn't stop. He got into his truck and pulled away,
leaving Mama and me standing by the door. "It's
going to come to no good," she predicted, and shook
her head. "No good."
Sure enough, late in the afternoon, the police
arrived to tell us Daddy was in the lockup.
"He caused a terrible commotion over at the
Tate Cannery," the policeman explained. "We're
holding him until Mr. Tate decides whether or not to
press charges."
Mama thanked the policeman for coming by to
tell us.
"What are you going to do, Mama?" I asked
after they left. "Are you going to go over to speak to
Octavious?"
She shook her head. "I'm tired of bailing your
father out of trouble, Gabriel. Let him sit in the clink
for a while. Maybe it will drum some sense in his
head."
That evening after Mama and I had a quiet
dinner, we sat on the gallery and watched the road,
both wondering if Daddy would come driving up.
Mama was very troubled, and those worries made her
look so much older to me.
"Things have a way of going so sour
sometimes," she suddenly muttered. "I guess I'm not
doing so well as a traiteir. I can't do much for my own
family," she moaned.
"That's not so, Mama. You've done a lot for us.