Feuds and Reckless Fury

Eventually his breathing goes even as he drifts off. It lulls me to sleep where I’m caught between memories and a dream.

“Let me have him.”

“No,” Momma slurs. “There’s no telling what you’d do.”

“I don’t know, Tammy, maybe give him clothes without fucking holes in them? That’d be a start.”

“Fuck you, Colin.”

She slaps him and I cringe. I hate when she hurts him because she always ends up getting herself hurt. Then, I try to stop their fight, only managing to hurt myself in the process. At least now he doesn’t make me pee my pants. I’m not scared of him like I was a few years ago.

“Get yourself clean,” Colin snaps, his face contorted into one of rage. “Or I’ll be forced to make you.”

“Oh, you’re so high and mighty now that you ‘quit’,” Momma huffs, making finger quotes. “Why do you care anyway?”

“I don’t. Not about you. For him.”

“Because you’re such a stand-up guy. You’re a fucking tweaker!”

“For fuck’s sake, woman, I already told you I don’t touch the stuff anymore. I just sell it.”

“Liar.”

“One week. That’s all you get. If I come back and you’re still fucked up, I’m taking him.”

My heart hurts at the thought of Colin taking me. I don’t want to go anywhere with him. He may not scare me enough to pee my pants anymore, but it doesn’t mean I want to go anywhere with him alone. When he’s come to visit a few times a year to give Momma money, they fight and then he leaves. Sometimes he forces me to sit with him and tell him about school. I hate those times.

“You will not take my son,” she bellows. “Ever.”

“If you keep treating him like your meal ticket and fucking maid, then maybe I wouldn’t have to threaten it!”

I flinch at his words. Momma’s most recent boyfriend—the same one who gave me a giant bruise on my back just yesterday—also calls me the maid. I’m not a girl who walks around dusting in a dress. I just like to keep the trailer clean so the mice will stay away if possible. I’m not a stupid maid.

“One week, Tammy.” And then his voice is directed at where I peek at them from the hallway. “Come give your pops a hug goodbye.”

I don’t want to.

But it’ll mean he’ll leave sooner.

Quickly, I run over to him, let him hug me, trying not to wince when he squeezes my new bruise, and then hide in the kitchen until he’s gone.

I hope he never comes back.

Waking in a cold sweat, I panic for a moment, wondering where I’m at. It takes a second to realize I’m at home and Canyon is curled around me, sleeping deeply. I’m thrumming with anxious energy after my dream that was more of a memory than anything. Mom made sure I didn’t go with Colin. I’m still shocked at what she did. The next morning, we packed up our stuff, left Missouri, and took the bus to Florida.

Thankfully, I never saw that man again.

It wasn’t sunshine and rainbows with Mom by any means, but it’s what ultimately brought me to my dad and my life finally turning into something good.

Knowing I’ll never get back to sleep with my mind running rampant with the past, I slip out of Canyon’s grip and sneak out of my room.

Canyon

It’s so fucking bright.

What the hell?

I squint, trying to understand my surroundings. I’m not in my room. Hell, I’m not even in my house. The lingering lime scent I know so well surrounds me.

Alis.

I’ve determined it has to be his laundry detergent. It’s strongest in his bed. I inhale the scent for a moment, wondering where he’s gone. I kick my feet over the side and stand, ignoring my morning wood, and eye the bed that’s half made up. I’m surprised he didn’t make the whole bed with me in it.

My amusement fades as I think about the reason why I ended up in his bed. Well, not specifically his bed, but here at his house. Mom. She kicked me out. Fuck.

Dad, surprisingly, was angry on my behalf. Not because he didn’t want me to come live with him, but because of how she’d treated me. Even as pissed as I’ve been at him, I can’t help but be grateful he didn’t turn his back on me too.

If he knows you’re hooking up with his fiancé’s kid, he might…

I stride over to my new room, wondering if Alis is hiding in there. When I push open the door, a shocked gasp escapes me.

Everything is unpacked.

And redecorated.

Just like in my old room.

My posters and pictures hang exactly like they used to. Everything is arranged just as it was. If it weren’t for the walls being light gray rather than dark tan and the windows in different spots, I could almost pretend for a second it’s my old room.