Between, Georgia (29 page)

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Authors: Joshilyn Jackson

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BOOK: Between, Georgia
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Okay, then. You call me, let me know you got this, hear?” She meant to call me again after she was home, but she was tired and forgot.

During dinner at Ona’s house, Henry had gotten out Ona’s tequila and tried to render everyone drunk enough to be harm-less. Teak and Grif had resolutely stuck to beer and were no more than solidly buzzed. Billy had taken every shot Henry offered, though he had a legendary hollow leg and seemed all but un-affected. Jimmy and Varner and Ona, however, were flat-out worthless drunk.

“You’da thought Nonny would’ve called,” Ona said over and over.

Henry sat on the sofa with his empty Chinet plate balanced precariously on his knee, nursing his beer and regretting the two shots he’d downed to try and get the ball rolling. Varner was already rumbling out bear snores from his chair, and Jimmy seemed close to joining him.

“S’not like her. She’s a ’sponsible little thing. Most times,” Ona said.

“Maybe she did go to Athens,” said Henry.

“How? You think she hitched? I saw her car. It was parked behind the church all day,” Ona said. “She couldn’t have tooken someone else’s—the blind one don’t got a car, and Bernese and Lou Baxter don’t got but one tire left between ’em.” Ona let out a snort that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “I keep calling Nonny’s cell phone, but I just get that voice mail, blah blah.

Leave a message, beep beep beep.” She took another slug of her salty dog.

“May as well go to bed, if Nonny ain’t gonna show,” said Teak to Grif, and there was a nasty edge to his voice.

“Why don’t
you
go to bed,” Grif said to Teak.

Teak sat up straight, leaning forward angrily. “I wanted to go to bed, didn’t I? But Nonny ain’t coming, so we might as well all go to bed.”

“Henry’s here,” said Jimmy blearily from the depths of the sofa. He had sunk down so low, his head was level with his feet, which were back up on the coffee table. One of his heels was resting in a drift of velvet potatoes; Grif had put his Chinet plate down in front of Jimmy when he was done eating.

Grif and Teak and Billy paused and looked over at Henry.

“Yeah,” said Henry. “I’m here, all right.”

“Henry’s a Crabtree,” said Billy.

“Not so’s you’d notice,” said Grif, and Jimmy cackled.

“Don’t talk shit about his mama, you prick,” said Teak. There was some conversation between Grif and Teak that was going on under the conversation everyone else was having. Henry couldn’t follow it, but he could sense its presence, and he wondered if he couldn’t find a way to use it. He sat up straight and leaned forward.

“Are you calling my mama a whore?” said Henry to Grif.

“Aw, Henry, don’t be like that. You know she was a whore,” said Grif. “Anyway, what you gonna do about it? I’d hand you your ass.”

“Then I’ll give Teak fifty bucks to hand you yours back,” said Henry, playing drunker than he was.

“Shit, I’d do it for a dollar,” said Teak.

“You couldn’t fucking do it for a million,” said Grif, and he started to get up.

“You going to take that?” said Henry to Teak.

Teak started to get up as well, but Billy glided to the center of the room, breaking Grif and Teak’s eye contact. “Nonny’s a Crabtree, too,” said Billy.

“Not so’s you’d notice.” It was Teak who said it this time, snide, mimicking Grif ’s facial expression with eerie precision.

Henry laughed, nasty, egging them on, and he thought Grif might go leaping over the table for Teak’s throat and the violence building in the room could be discharged in a Crabtree brawl, but just then Jimmy said, “Baby Jesus, but I fucking need some pie,” and Grif burst out laughing in spite of himself.

Billy said to Ona, “You got any of that icebox pie?” Ona shrugged and Billy said, “Grif, go and look. If she’s got any, just bring it. We can use our same plates.”

Grif said, “Jimmy has his foot in my goddamn plate.”

Billy shrugged. “He can eat off that plate, then. It’s his own foot, so it won’t bother him none.”

Grif went in the kitchen, and Teak sat back, cooling. Billy was staring at Henry, who felt a flush coming up under his cheeks.

“Don’t fuck with me,” said Billy. “Smart boy.”

“I’m not fucking with you,” said Henry.

Grif came back with five beers stacked in his arms like cord-wood and passed them out. “No pie.”

“Thanks, bro,” said Billy.

Jimmy held his loosely, unopened, but everyone else popped their tabs and took a drink, almost in unison.

Wheel of Fortune
had ended some time ago, and now a Schwarzenegger flick was on. “I think I better hit the sack,” said Billy, suddenly jovial. “We gotta drive home in the early A.M. Shit to do, you know. You don’t mind, hey, Henry?”

“No. I don’t mind,” said Henry.

Ona said, “I’da thought Nonny would’ve called.”

Billy tipped back his beer and opened his throat, chugging it, and Grif followed suit. Then Grif said, “Don’t matter, Aunt Ona.

You can catch up to her tomorrow. I guess I better go on and hit the sack, too.” He turned toward Henry. “You gonna keep these reprobates company for a little?”

“I’ll be right here,” Henry answered, but his eyes were on Billy.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good, then,” said Billy.

“Good,” said Grif.

“I better head on along to bed, too,” Varner said. Henry hadn’t noticed Varner wake up, but he was stirring, digging deep into his belly button with one thick forefinger and then rising and stretching. All four of the Alabama Crabtrees turned to look at Varner.

“You’re going to bed, too?” said Grif.

“Yeah. He’s going to bed,” said the sinkhole on the sofa that was Jimmy. He had oozed down even farther, his chin tipped to rest on his chest. Henry didn’t see how he could possibly see the TV over his feet. Especially since his eyes looked closed. “He’s sleepy, Grif.”

“Oh. Right,” said Grif.

Varner got up and headed out of the den. Henry could hear him lumbering down the hall toward the bedrooms. Grif stood up and turned sideways, stepping over Henry’s legs to get free of the coffee table.

Henry said, “You are about as covert as a stampede. You might as well tell me what’s going on, because I’m not leaving.”

“Nothing’s going on,” Grif said.

“Yeah, nothing’s going on,” said Teak. “It’s just that Grif ’s retarded.”

“And Teak’s an asshole,” said Grif, taking a step toward Teak.

“But you knew all that,” Billy interjected smoothly, grasping Grif by the elbow before he could get any closer to Teak. “Say good night, boyo.” He gave Grif a shove toward the doorway that led back to the bedrooms. Then he paused and smiled at Henry, all his teeth showing. His round cheeks made his expression bland and benign, but Henry felt gooseflesh break out on his arms. “You’ve kinda pissed me off.” Before Henry could answer, Billy turned and followed Grif off to bed.

Henry stayed where he was, watching Jimmy sink into a coma and Teak sulk and Ona, who had taken over Varner’s chair, get drunker and drunker. Schwarzenegger was running through a military compound, machine-gunning down men in fatigues.

“I can’t believe she didn’t come,” said Ona. “Henry, you think she’s in Athens?”

“I don’t know,” Henry said.

“You don’t think Nonny is at her house, do you, Henry?” asked Teak.

“Why would that be bad? What do you think is going to happen at her house?” Henry said.

Teak stirred, but Ona waved a hand at him and said to Henry,

“It’s better if we don’t know nothing, baby.”

“What are you going to do, Teak?” Henry demanded.

“I’m not going to do a damn thing.” Teak stared sullenly at the television.

“Shut your holes and watch the movie.” Jimmy was still conscious.

But Henry had finally gotten it. If Teak wasn’t doing a damn thing and was pissed off about it, it could only be because Grif was doing something. Right now.

Henry leaped up off the sofa, his Chinet plate tumbling to the floor, and went running down the hall toward the three bedrooms. The door to Tucker’s room stood open, and Varner would be in the master at the end of the hall. The door to the third bedroom was shut. Before Henry could open it, Tucker’s hand snaked under his arm and grabbed the knob, holding it shut.

“Let go of the door,” Henry said.

“You don’t want to look,” Teak said. “If you don’t look, then as far as you know, they’re in there.”

“And that was Nonny’s job, right?” Henry smacked the flat of one hand against the door, hard. “You and Jimmy were supposed to keep her here late, and meanwhile, Grif and Billy go to bed and slip out the window. She thinks they’re sleeping, and she’s sitting right there with you guys. So when something happens to her folks, she thinks it wasn’t you. And she tells the cops she was here with you guys all night. So you screw with her family, and she’s the one who alibis you? That’s sick.”

Ona, behind Teak, said, “Them Fretts are not her folks. We’re her folks.”

“Get out of my way, Teak,” said Henry.

“Make me,” said Teak.

Henry shoved down hard on Teak’s wrist, and it slipped off the knob. Henry threw open the door and stepped inside, flipping on the lights. The window was open, and a faint breeze was stirring the blinds. The twin beds were undisturbed. Henry turned back around and found Teak blocking him in. He moved toward the door anyway, and Teak reared back and popped Henry in the eye.

Henry went down.

“Teak, no!” yelled Ona.

Henry got slowly back to his feet. He hadn’t been in a fistfight since he was in third grade, and Teak, long-armed and tall, was in a brawl or two every month. Henry went for him, landing a solid right to Teak’s belly before Teak put him on the ground again.

“Stop it! Stop it!” Ona was still cawing.

“Think it through, Teak.” Henry got to his feet again. “You better let me go stop them. Nonny didn’t come, and you were so transparent that even I saw through it. The cops will, too, in a lot less time than it took me. And you won’t have a witness to back up your story. You’re sending Billy and Grif out there with no alibi.”

“Serves Grif right,” said Teak.

“But not Billy,” Henry replied softly. “Do you know what they’re going to do?”

Teak shrugged, but Henry was still turning it around in his mind. Something was niggling at him. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his aching head. His eye and the side of his head hurt. And then he had it. Back at Crabtree Gas and Parts, he’d looked into the bed of Grif ’s truck and seen the toolbox and a blanket. And three gas cans. No one needed three gas cans.

“You piece of shit,” said Henry. “There’s a little girl living in one of those houses. There’s a deaf and blind woman in the other, sleeping. What if they don’t get out? If you keep me here while they light those places on fire, Billy’s going to end up in trouble for felony murder.”

“Fire?” said Ona.

“I ain’t shifting,” Teak said.

Ona clutched at Teak’s arm from behind. “Teak, they can’t mean to light them houses on fire with all of them sleeping?”

Teak didn’t answer, and Henry said to her, “It’s better if we don’t know nothing, baby.”

Ona said, “Teak, no. And what if my Nonny’s in there?”

Henry started forward again, but Teak held up both hands.

“Don’t, man. You think I like beating the piss out of family?”

Ona tugged on Teak’s elbow from behind. “Nonny could be sleeping in that house. She’s your blood.”

“Aw, crap. Lemme think,” said Teak. “I better ask Jimmy what to do. Henry, sorry, man, but you ain’t going nowheres until I ask Jimmy.” To Ona he said, “Watch him and call me if he tries to go someplace.”

Teak went back up the hall, and Ona and Henry stared at each other for a heartbeat. Then Ona cut her eyes at the open window and deliberately turned her back. Henry was moving as soon as she began to turn, climbing over the windowsill and dropping into the azalea bushes. He took off at a dead run.

He didn’t bother heading back down Hook to Philbert. That was where Teak would come looking for him. Instead, he ran into the woods, cutting through the trees until he emerged in a cul-de-sac in Country Glen. He sprinted through the backyards, making a beeline for Mama’s house. He got to the other side of Country Glen and ran back into more woods, thin, filled with hiking tracks, mostly Georgia pine and some scrub.

The air was burning his lungs. His feet pounded against the ground, and he could feel the tequila and the beer and the velvet potatoes sloshing around in his gut. As he came out of the woods onto Grace Street, he slowed. He was looking from Bernese’s house to Mama’s, his eyes flicking back and forth. But everything there was peaceful and still. Grif ’s truck wasn’t there, and Henry didn’t see Grif or Billy anywhere.

He panted, trying to think like one of the Alabama Crabtrees, and that was when he heard the first booming explosions coming from the square. He started running again, up Grace this time.

Three gas cans, three gas cans! He’d been stupid.

They’d changed their plan and gone after Bernese’s store and the museum. Billy had thought it through, and maybe he didn’t want to set fire to a house if I was in it. More likely, though, Billy had switched targets because the Dollhouse Store was attached to Henry’s bookstore, and Henry had pissed him off.

Henry ran as fast as he could, listening to the staccato bursts.

He couldn’t figure out what the noise was. Something in the museum? In his mind’s eye, he saw the blue velveteen drape that hid Bernese’s dollhouse terrarium going up in flames. It would incinerate quickly, fusing to the melting plastic framework. He saw the glass cracking and then running down itself as it liquefied. The adult moths would flutter as they burned, and the heat would push the blackened tissue of them upward even after they had changed from animal to ash. He was seeing the plastic smile of the mommy doll peeling off and crackling as her head melted, and the flames touching the feet of the young girl doll with my face. In his mind, the popping noises were the cocoons of the luna moths, bursting in the heat, and he saw all the solid little caterpillars that Fisher loved, curling and uncurling as they burned.

He sped up, his head aching where Teak had hit him, his pulse beating so hard through his body that he could feel it even in his eyes.

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