Black Rabbit and Other Stories by Salvatore Difalco

an intake.”
    These words came at Wendy in a whirring, incomprehensible stream. She didn’t know what to say. The guy’s smile started creeping her out, the teeth too white or something.
    Felix glanced at the clipboard again. “Legal guardian listed as a Wendy Smith.”
    â€œThat’s me,”she said, involuntarily touching her hair. “I’m the aunt. His father’s sister.”
    â€œOkay,” he said, winking at the triplets huddled around Wendy.
    â€œGirls,” she said sharply.
    They squealed and retreated.
    Felix continued smiling. “I understand Connor has no contact with his father.”
    â€œNo, and his mum’s in rehab at Collingwood ’til October. Connor never calls or anything. They aren’t close like that.” Ashamed to admit this, Wendy looked down at her small, bare feet—a further embarrassment—chewed up like meat from years of bad shoes,.
    Felix frowned and ticked off a box on the sheet with his shiny pen. “This program falls under the umbrella of extra-judicial measures—initiated recently as a consequence of the revised Youth Criminal Justice Act.”
    Again, the man’s words whirred by in a stream of guttural gasps and clicks that made no sense. But she noticed that Felix wore no wedding band, and warmly smiled at him, so handsome in his way, so strong and sure, and he returned the smile.
    Ronnie came by in the morning, screaming about being killed, that they were going to kill him. He stared right through Wendy as he screamed, waking up the girls, who scrambled from the bedroom to the bathroom in their pink pajamas. Twitching and drooling, Ronnie looked deranged, likely fucked up on crack cocaine. Crack fries the central nervous system, triggering frenzies and hallucinations. Wendy knew all about that. She’d had her time with crack.
    â€œJust keep your voice down,” she whispered. She hated Ronnie barging in whenever he felt like it, the fucking tool. She hated all these weak and stupid men. Her father was the same. An asshole through and through. If not for Mom, the family would have ended up on the street. As it was, working all kinds of nasty jobs, never saying no to anything, no matter how degrading, she eked out enough for bare necessities, while Dad drank beer and porked their slutty neighbours whenever he could get it up.
    Tears welled in Ronnie’s ruined eyes. “Listen—listen to me. If they come here—no, don’t say anything. Say you haven’t seen me.”
    Wendy glanced down the hall and saw Doris’s head pop out of the bathroom. Not Doris—Deb the little bitch, playing games again, grimacing like Doris did when something scared her. Deb didn’t scare so easy. Wendy laughed, almost proud of how clever they were. But she’d call Deb on it later and see what the little lady had to say for herself.
    â€œTell them you haven’t seen me,” Ronnie said. “I don’t want you involved.”
    She felt like kicking him in the nuts for saying that. “What’s going on, Ronnie?”
    Elbows together, he cringed. “They’ll fucking kill me!” He rocked on his heels, wheezed, his asthma acting up. Luckily, he had a puffer and took a few hits. But while this relieved the chest congestion it did nothing for his state of mind.
    Wendy seized his arm. “Get it together for a sec, man. Who the fuck is going to kill you? Ronnie, look at me. Look at me.”
    He turned up his face with wide, terrified eyes, tilting his head as if appealing to her humanity. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He mumbled something, then abruptly bolted for the door. She heard it open and slam shut. A car engine turned over. Tires squealed. Then she heard nothing but the girls bawling in the bathroom, and the cats bawling in the hall.
    After that night, Ronnie disappeared. He left Wendy with no money to care for Connor, no forwarding address, nothing. A week