Page 120 of Badges
I’m pretty sure I undercooked a piece of chicken I made myself at lunch yesterday, because I was queasy by three in the morning.
Today I’m opting for a big salad for dinner, it’s safer.
“Grandpa had to drive to Missoula for a part for the tractor, so Ihaveto take care of Trixie. She gets a flake of alfalfa in themorning and the evening. Plus one scoop of grain.” Her fists dig into her hips defiantly.
“I don’t have a problem with you feeding her. What I have a problem with is that you’ll spend the rest of the evening out there with her andnotdo what you’re supposed to do.” A wave of nausea has me setting down my knife.
The tomatoes I’m slicing look suddenly gross. Did one go bad and I caught a whiff?
Her hand flies up and she starts ticking off fingers as she counts. “I did my chores. My laundry is put away. My lunch for tomorrow is already made. IswearI’ll do my homework later. It gets dark out so early now, I can’t hang out in the barn.”
“Okay. But I’m gonna hold you to it.” I squint one eye so she knows I’m serious.
She tugs her baseball hat low over her eyes, then runs outside.
I finally finish the tomatoes and get started on the green onions when my phone rings in my back pocket.
After a quick wipe, I dig it out.
“Hi, daddy. Dinner’s almost ready.” I glance at the mushrooms and weigh putting them in.
They don’t sound appealing.
“I can’t talk long. I just got on scene to a three car accident, so I’ll be home late. Don’t wait up. Love you, bye.” He clicks to end the call before I can reply.
This isn’t the first time it’s happened. I know it won’t be the last.
Does it get easier knowing he’s putting himself out there?
It’s not like I didn’t know what he did when I met him.
Tears sting my eyes looking at the array of food in front of me.
Damn onions.
The house suddenly feels empty knowing he won’t be walking in the door any second.
It’s fine. Everything is fine.
I’ll put in the mushrooms. I know he likes them.
Busying myself with preparing him a plate to put in the fridge helps me focus.
But when I shut the door, there’s a weird sound coming from it.
Wait.
I open and close it, yet the noise doesn’t change.
Except it’s getting louder.
Fuck, it’s outside.
Running out onto the porch, it’s obvious now.
Cynthia.
She’s howling in pain, staggering as she tries to run towards me.
