Page 53 of Whiskey Shivers

“You headin’ into the club?” I asked.

“Nah.” He shook his head and then jerked it into the direction of his daddy’s house. “I try to take the night shift while he’s out and I don’t have to listen to his bullshit,” he said.

“Good plan,” I said and nodded. “Wish like hell that you had a daddy like mine in your life. I’m sorry you didn’t.”

He grunted and shrugged, then said, “I got a good brother out of the bargain. A whole lot of ‘em. I have the love of a good woman out there,” he said, turning to look out into the tangle of trees and Spanish moss out in the water and mud of the swamp.

“You and me both,” I said. “Anything goes wrong, and I get locked up for longer, you take care of my woman until we get it sorted out?” I asked.

“You know I will,” he said.

I nodded.

“You make me your call. I’ll get the lawyer involved.”

I nodded. “I’m counting on it,” I said.

We bear hugged, pounding each other on the back, and then he struck out across the high grass of the yard, and I got into my truck.

There was a lot that could go wrong tomorrow night and through the weekend. A lot. But I chose not to dwell on it too much. I preferred to keep my eye on the fuckin’ prize, which was gonna be McDaniel gutted and bleeding, gasping like a landed fucking fish at my feet while I watched the light leak out of his eyes right along with his blood across whatever floor happened to be handy.

The first hurdle would be getting in with him. The second hurdle would be killing him. The third and final hurdle would be getting away with it.

Of course, I had plans for all that. I always had plans, and I had plans forthoseplans in case they fell through. Still, we would see.

My house wasn’t that big, but oh what a difference a near week made. It was as though the very walls echoed the ringing silence back at me with her absence, and I was glad that it would only be the one night with me in here alone.

I went to bed, I got up, and I went to work as I ever did. I went through the motions, talking to staff, talking to the kids who talked to me or who I recognized as the outcasts and loners. The ones who were smart as heck, and far too grown for their ages. That’s how I accidentally came across Tomeka Ross, standing at the bank of second-floor windows overlooking the faculty back lot, quietly crying and trying to keep to herself.

“Hey, now. What’s this?” I asked, leaning my dust mop I’d been swiping through the hallways up against the nearby wall.

“I just noticed Miss Legare’s car is gone,” she said. “Does that mean she’s not coming back?”

“Oh, hey, she’s coming back, honey. Just a matter of time,” I said. “A friend of mine and I picked up her car and took it to her just last Wednesday. She needs it to get to her doctor appointments and such. Surprised you knew which one it was.”

“She’s the reason I keep coming to school,” she said.

I felt my shoulders drop, and I said, “You know Miss Legare and I are real good friends. I see her out there from time to time. You want, you go on and write her a note or a letter. I’ll make sure she gets it.”

“Really?” The ninth grader looked up at me and there was hope in her brown eyes, her round cheeks stained with wet. I shook out my clean bandanna from my back pocket up under my coveralls and handed it to her.

“Really,” I promised her. “Why don’t you keep that, write your note, and come find me later. I’ll be around. Okay?”

She nodded and said, “Thank you,” and tried a smile. I smiled back and reached out and barely tapped her shoulder with a light bump.

“Anytime, I know she misses you guys, too.”

“Some of the boys are someanabout it.”

“Well, you just point ‘em out and I’ll have a chat with ‘em about whatever it is they’re sayin’. See if they’re comfortable sayin’ it to me. If not, then they maybe need to rethink it before it comes out their mouth, yeah?”

She nodded emphatically.

“She’s one of the good ones, Mr. Johnson,” she said, and I smiled that she even knew my name.

“Yeah, she is,” I agreed.

We parted ways. She came and found me at second lunch and delivered her note, which was thick, like four pages folded in quarters. I held it up in a gesture of “I’ve got it” and put it up in the breast pocket of my flannel shirt up under my coveralls. She nodded and looked like she felt better, which was all that mattered. Still, I was a man as good as my word and I’d make sure my Fable got it. I’d respect Miss Ross’s privacy and keep whatever it was between her and my girl.

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