“You lose track of time in here, but you wouldn’t know about that.” He turned from Verna to Bernie, bending down to try to see Bernie’s face. But Bernie was watching his toes swing back and forth so hard Angel could hear his heels banging the chair rung. “Bernie, my man, how goes it?” Bernie didn’t even look up.
“Get off that chair, Bernie. Angel, take him somewhere else. I got a few things I got to say to your daddy without...”
Angel grabbed Bernie by the hand and started across the crowded room to the opposite corner, where some charity group had put a few worn books and discarded toys for the kids who had to spend their Saturdays in jail.
“Ow,” said Bernie. “Quit pulli
ng on me. I’m tired of you and Mama yanking me around. Yank. Yank. Yank. That’s all you ever do.”
“I’m sorry, Bernie.” She really was. It wasn’t any life for a little kid. He was barely seven. He’d been coming here since he was less than a year old. He couldn’t remember anything that had happened in his life before. She wrestled a toddler for a truck, and, when she and Bernie had both sat down on the floor, she gave it to her brother. He still liked playing with trucks. The toddler wailed briefly, but soon began to fight another toddler for a car with only three wheels.
“I hate it here,” Bernie said, pretending to drive the truck in front of his crossed legs. “I don’t know why we have to come all the time.”
“’Cause he’s our daddy, Bernie. It would just break his heart not to see his family. It’s the only thing keeps him going in a place like this. You gotta know someone cares about you, or you just give up.”
“Well, I don’t care about him,” Bernie said, pushing the stupid little truck hard into Angel’s shin, daring her to ignore the metal bumper cutting into her flesh. “I hope he just gives up.”
“Oh, Bernie, you don’t mean that. I know you can’t remember. You were only a baby when he left, but he is your daddy. When he comes out...” She moved her leg back a little.
“I hope he never comes out,” said Bernie, attacking her shin once more.
“Quit it, Bernie. That hurts.”
“I know,” he said.
She wrenched the truck out of his hand. “If you can’t play nice—”
“Go say goodbye to your daddy.” Verna was standing above them.
“Is it time already?”
“Way past time. You, too, Bernie. Give him a hug.”
Bernie didn’t give Wayne a hug, but if saying goodbye meant getting out of there, he was more than glad to obey.
“Bye,” he said and bolted for the door.
“Goodbye, Daddy,” Angel said. She gave Wayne an awkward hug under the eye of a guard who was making sure she wasn’t passing anything to him in the process.
“Bye, angel girl,” he said. His face twisted like the face of the little boy she’d scared earlier.
“I’m leaving, Angel.”
“Okay, Mama.” She tried to smile at Wayne. She didn’t want him bawling like a kid in the waiting room. She’d seen other men do that, and it was like watching someone take off all their clothes in public.
“Well, that’s that,” said Verna when the three of them were back in the truck. “That’s the last time you’ll ever have to visit this hellhole again.”
“Is he coming home?” Angel asked.
“Nope. He says they might let him go out on a work crew, but he says a lot of things.” Verna started the engine and began to back out of the slot. They were past the outside gates and on the road to the apartment before she spoke again. “Soon as we get to the house, I want you kids to pack up your stuff. We’re moving.”
“Yippee!” Bernie bounced up and down as high as his seat belt would allow. “Yippee.”
“My sentiments exactly,” said Verna. “It’s well past time for me to put Wayne Morgan behind me and get on with the rest of my life.”
“You mean I don’t never have to come to jail again?”
“Never,” Verna said, patting his bouncing legs. “Never! Never! Never!” Bernie sang out, throwing both arms in the air like a football player after a touchdown.