Fallout (Crank 3)

My grandfather—Grandpa Scott,

he said to call him—has announced

that it’s time to eat. We all gather

at the table, which has two large

folding tables placed at one

end, and still we’ll all barely fit.

Once everyone has found a seat,

two chairs are too obviously empty.

Hunter goes to the door, calls loudly,

Kristina! We’re all at the table.

Are the two of you planning to join

us? Room service is closed.

His voice carries thinly veiled anger,

and his girlfriend shoots a warning

glance that says, Watch your temper.

Earlier, I heard Hunter talking

to Grandma Marie. Why is Kristina

outside? he asked. Why isn’t she

with her kids? Why can’t she just

act like a mom? Doesn’t she care

about them? Doesn’t she love them?

Grandma answered right

away, as if she’d thought about

the question many times before.

I think she wants to love them.

Wants to love all of you. But

she can’t. I told you how meth

eats into the brain. Well, the part

that gets chewed away is

the part that lets people love.