the fence and crossed over, I kissed him one last time, handed him Dusty's leash and walked on clouds back to my trailer.
Alfie was waiting for me the moment I stepped through the door. From the look on his face and the number of beers on the table, I knew he'd been drinking heavily. He smiled and took a long drink from the bottle in his hand.
"Where have you been?"
"Out with Michael." I wanted to run to the bathroom, wash myself up and hop into bed. With Alfie on the couch, my escape through the hallway seemed narrow.
"Liar." He stood up and adjusted his pants. "You've been fucking Michael, haven't you?"
I swallowed. Had he seen us leave? I know he wasn't at the Bus while Michael and I were making love, but— Where was Mama?
"No." I felt my face grow flush. "I was just out, walking his dog."
"He don't have no dog."
"He just got one. We were—"
"You're nothing but a slut. You know that? Your mama was right—you ain't nothing but a whore."
I pulled all of my senses together to try to quell the fear rising inside of me. I didn't want to fight. I wanted to turn and run, my tail between my legs. This wasn't Alfie's business; this wasn't something I wanted to discuss with him—especially in light of the alcohol in his system.
I took a step toward the hallway.
"Where you going?"
"To wash up and go to bed."
Alfie stepped in front of the hallway and unfastened his belt. I would have thought he meant to beat me with it, if I wasn't convinced he wanted to take me to bed. I stared at the belt and watched him reach for the buttons on his pants.
"You couldn't wait until I showed you."
I turned and ran for the door. Mama obviously wasn't home and no matter how loud I screamed, the neighbors weren't going to help me. If I didn't make it outside, if I didn't make it as far from Alfie as I could, I was sure to be raped.
Mama swung the door open just as I reached it. It hit me on the head and pushed me back against the kitchen table.
Thank God! Mama could beat me all she wanted—wooden spoon or closed fist. I knew she wouldn't let Alfie have his way with me.
Mama took one look at Alfie with his hands on his zipper. His pants were loose around the waist. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Nothing." Alfie quickly zipped up his pants and sat back down on the couch like nothing happened. "I was just tucking my shirt in."
Mama turned and looked at me. If I tried to put on a scared face, it would have looked nothing like the scared face I already wore. I think she saw something in me that day, and whatever motherly instinct she never felt like sharing before suddenly reared back and prepared to attack her daughter's attacker.
" Get out of my house! " Mama lashed out with all she had. All the anger I'd seen her bestow on me, all the hatred that boiled in her eyes before—all of it was directed at Alfie. She leaped forward, grabbed not one, but two beer bottles off the coffee table and threw them at Alfie. They broke open on his forehead. He pushed back against the couch and screamed.
"Get the fuck out of my house!"
Alfie struggled to get up. He wiped broken glass from his face just as Mama picked up another beer bottle.
He pushed past Mama and ran for the door, his arms up around his head. I saw the bottle fly through the air, end over end, striking him on the back just as he reached for the handle.
" Don't you dare come back here! " Mama stared at the screen door, now swinging shut. I could hear Alfie's footsteps across the patio, down the steps and finally across the gravel.
He ran.
I looked at Mama as she stood staring at the door. Her nostrils flared, her fists still clenched in rage. The air was still, but I swear I heard Grandma laughing softly.
"What did I say about the tongue, Maggie?"
"Watch it," I whispered.
"Do you see?"
I looked at the belt Alfie left on the floor by the couch, then back at Mama. My mind raced from meeting Dusty to making love with Michael to seeing the ugliness of man explode in front of
Alfie was waiting for me the moment I stepped through the door. From the look on his face and the number of beers on the table, I knew he'd been drinking heavily. He smiled and took a long drink from the bottle in his hand.
"Where have you been?"
"Out with Michael." I wanted to run to the bathroom, wash myself up and hop into bed. With Alfie on the couch, my escape through the hallway seemed narrow.
"Liar." He stood up and adjusted his pants. "You've been fucking Michael, haven't you?"
I swallowed. Had he seen us leave? I know he wasn't at the Bus while Michael and I were making love, but— Where was Mama?
"No." I felt my face grow flush. "I was just out, walking his dog."
"He don't have no dog."
"He just got one. We were—"
"You're nothing but a slut. You know that? Your mama was right—you ain't nothing but a whore."
I pulled all of my senses together to try to quell the fear rising inside of me. I didn't want to fight. I wanted to turn and run, my tail between my legs. This wasn't Alfie's business; this wasn't something I wanted to discuss with him—especially in light of the alcohol in his system.
I took a step toward the hallway.
"Where you going?"
"To wash up and go to bed."
Alfie stepped in front of the hallway and unfastened his belt. I would have thought he meant to beat me with it, if I wasn't convinced he wanted to take me to bed. I stared at the belt and watched him reach for the buttons on his pants.
"You couldn't wait until I showed you."
I turned and ran for the door. Mama obviously wasn't home and no matter how loud I screamed, the neighbors weren't going to help me. If I didn't make it outside, if I didn't make it as far from Alfie as I could, I was sure to be raped.
Mama swung the door open just as I reached it. It hit me on the head and pushed me back against the kitchen table.
Thank God! Mama could beat me all she wanted—wooden spoon or closed fist. I knew she wouldn't let Alfie have his way with me.
Mama took one look at Alfie with his hands on his zipper. His pants were loose around the waist. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Nothing." Alfie quickly zipped up his pants and sat back down on the couch like nothing happened. "I was just tucking my shirt in."
Mama turned and looked at me. If I tried to put on a scared face, it would have looked nothing like the scared face I already wore. I think she saw something in me that day, and whatever motherly instinct she never felt like sharing before suddenly reared back and prepared to attack her daughter's attacker.
" Get out of my house! " Mama lashed out with all she had. All the anger I'd seen her bestow on me, all the hatred that boiled in her eyes before—all of it was directed at Alfie. She leaped forward, grabbed not one, but two beer bottles off the coffee table and threw them at Alfie. They broke open on his forehead. He pushed back against the couch and screamed.
"Get the fuck out of my house!"
Alfie struggled to get up. He wiped broken glass from his face just as Mama picked up another beer bottle.
He pushed past Mama and ran for the door, his arms up around his head. I saw the bottle fly through the air, end over end, striking him on the back just as he reached for the handle.
" Don't you dare come back here! " Mama stared at the screen door, now swinging shut. I could hear Alfie's footsteps across the patio, down the steps and finally across the gravel.
He ran.
I looked at Mama as she stood staring at the door. Her nostrils flared, her fists still clenched in rage. The air was still, but I swear I heard Grandma laughing softly.
"What did I say about the tongue, Maggie?"
"Watch it," I whispered.
"Do you see?"
I looked at the belt Alfie left on the floor by the couch, then back at Mama. My mind raced from meeting Dusty to making love with Michael to seeing the ugliness of man explode in front of
Similar Books
