Fallout (Crank 3)

He looks at me, anger smoking,

black, in his already dark eyes.

I suppose you heard all that.

I hate talking ill about your father,

but that boy is doomed to go

straight on down to the devil

when he dies. He moves toward

me, trembling slightly. I should’a

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beat that boy more. He never

did have an ounce of respect

or caring for anyone except for

himself. Not even for your mama,

I’m guessing. I told Maureen

he was gonna end up badly

if she didn’t … never mind.

GRANDFATHER IS STERN

To put it too mildly. I love him,

of course. How could I not

love someone who gathered me

in, offered a home and his unique

brand of love? It’s hard for him

to love, I think. He has been divorced.

Remarried. Widowed. Left to live

mostly alone until Aunt Cora

reappeared, with little toddler me

tucked haphazardly under one arm.

I do love him. But sometimes he’s harsh.

“Mean” might be more accurate.

He reminds me of a cop walking