future earnings. Sugar was always bragging how she would never have to work again in her life, nothing to do but concentrate on her appearance. To me, outliving one husband and divorcing another before you’re eighteen isn’t grounds to brag.
I stretched out on the grass, soaking up sun and waiting for someone to come arrest me. I wondered where Auburn was—in the house or with Dothan or Dothan’s mother or what. Would he be wearing his blue coveralls or the sailor thing or the Alabama Crimson Tide warm-ups? Did he miss me?
Sugar came back out and sat on the top step to do her nails. Now that the law was on the way, she decided to turn chatty.
“He’s been waiting to ditch you for years,” she said.
“We haven’t been married two.”
“He wanted me, only you’re too worthless to pay alimony or child support. Those are Dothan’s words, not mine, although I will always back up my man. You’re too worthless, so he had to wait for you to provide an excuse so he could dump you without penalty.”
It occurred to me that the whole time I’d been thinking Sugar was the town tramp, she’d been thinking the same of me.
Sugar held her left hand out to admire the nail job. “Boy, did you provide an excuse.”
***
The neighbors’ cowdog loped over to mark territory on the tent, and a couple of kindergartner types stood in the street sucking their thumbs and staring at me with blinkless eyes. The little one dragging the blanket shred reminded me of Shannon. I smiled at her and offered a bit of Mars bar, but the other child pulled her away. Curtains fluttered up and down the block, checking out the fallen woman, but no one ventured outside to give me grief. We were all waiting for authority figures.
Mangum Potter’s sheriff’s department Chevy came from the north just as Dothan’s GMC half-ton appeared from the south. They parked nose to nose with Dothan on the wrong side of the street. As the doors slammed and the two men with power over me made their way across the lawn, I concentrated on the Teton Peaks above their heads. In spring the sky mostly rains or spits sleet and the land goes mud as the snow melts, but on clear days when the valley floor is green and the mountains are white, the whole scenery thing can be uplifting as hell, and I needed uplifting.
Dothan walked over with his arms folded. He had on a corpse-colored sweater I’d never seen before with the collar points of his shirt neatly placed on the outside like he’d just taken a shower after wholesome exercise. “Jesus,” he said, “she can’t even pitch a tent.”
Mangum walked to the other side of the tent. “No privy, she must be squatting in the bushes.”
“I always knew she would wind up crapping in public.”
“Get away from my camp,” I said. “I’m not breaking any laws.”
It was like they couldn’t see me, or they didn’t realize I could see them. People talk that way around zoo animals and retarded children.
“Want me to arrest her?” Mangum asked.
“What law have I broken?”
Mangum took the macho thumbs-in-the-belt-loops stance. “We could run her in on public drunkenness.”
“I’m not drunk.”
Dothan stuck the toe of his boot under a stake and eased it from the ground. My rain fly went even droopier. “In jail where folks can’t see what a wretch she is, they might feel sorry for her.”
“Nobody feels sorry for her,” Mangum said.
“I do,” I said.
Dothan went on. “Let’s keep her out front where she can dig her own grave.”
Mangum nodded as he considered the wisdom of the plan. “Whatever you say, but I’d be more comfortable with her behind bars.”
Dothan turned to look at the house. Sugar waved and smiled, and Dothan waved back. “If she approaches my son or my home, I want her nailed to the wall.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Mangum said.
Dothan always sounds reasonable when he’s not. I started to stand up, but my knees got wobbly. “The part I don’t understand,” I said,
I stretched out on the grass, soaking up sun and waiting for someone to come arrest me. I wondered where Auburn was—in the house or with Dothan or Dothan’s mother or what. Would he be wearing his blue coveralls or the sailor thing or the Alabama Crimson Tide warm-ups? Did he miss me?
Sugar came back out and sat on the top step to do her nails. Now that the law was on the way, she decided to turn chatty.
“He’s been waiting to ditch you for years,” she said.
“We haven’t been married two.”
“He wanted me, only you’re too worthless to pay alimony or child support. Those are Dothan’s words, not mine, although I will always back up my man. You’re too worthless, so he had to wait for you to provide an excuse so he could dump you without penalty.”
It occurred to me that the whole time I’d been thinking Sugar was the town tramp, she’d been thinking the same of me.
Sugar held her left hand out to admire the nail job. “Boy, did you provide an excuse.”
***
The neighbors’ cowdog loped over to mark territory on the tent, and a couple of kindergartner types stood in the street sucking their thumbs and staring at me with blinkless eyes. The little one dragging the blanket shred reminded me of Shannon. I smiled at her and offered a bit of Mars bar, but the other child pulled her away. Curtains fluttered up and down the block, checking out the fallen woman, but no one ventured outside to give me grief. We were all waiting for authority figures.
Mangum Potter’s sheriff’s department Chevy came from the north just as Dothan’s GMC half-ton appeared from the south. They parked nose to nose with Dothan on the wrong side of the street. As the doors slammed and the two men with power over me made their way across the lawn, I concentrated on the Teton Peaks above their heads. In spring the sky mostly rains or spits sleet and the land goes mud as the snow melts, but on clear days when the valley floor is green and the mountains are white, the whole scenery thing can be uplifting as hell, and I needed uplifting.
Dothan walked over with his arms folded. He had on a corpse-colored sweater I’d never seen before with the collar points of his shirt neatly placed on the outside like he’d just taken a shower after wholesome exercise. “Jesus,” he said, “she can’t even pitch a tent.”
Mangum walked to the other side of the tent. “No privy, she must be squatting in the bushes.”
“I always knew she would wind up crapping in public.”
“Get away from my camp,” I said. “I’m not breaking any laws.”
It was like they couldn’t see me, or they didn’t realize I could see them. People talk that way around zoo animals and retarded children.
“Want me to arrest her?” Mangum asked.
“What law have I broken?”
Mangum took the macho thumbs-in-the-belt-loops stance. “We could run her in on public drunkenness.”
“I’m not drunk.”
Dothan stuck the toe of his boot under a stake and eased it from the ground. My rain fly went even droopier. “In jail where folks can’t see what a wretch she is, they might feel sorry for her.”
“Nobody feels sorry for her,” Mangum said.
“I do,” I said.
Dothan went on. “Let’s keep her out front where she can dig her own grave.”
Mangum nodded as he considered the wisdom of the plan. “Whatever you say, but I’d be more comfortable with her behind bars.”
Dothan turned to look at the house. Sugar waved and smiled, and Dothan waved back. “If she approaches my son or my home, I want her nailed to the wall.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Mangum said.
Dothan always sounds reasonable when he’s not. I started to stand up, but my knees got wobbly. “The part I don’t understand,” I said,
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