American River Review 2022 - copy - Flipbook - Page 43
“Think I got something here,” did I
let the good side of my mouth curl in
a smile.
The officer, who’d been sitting with
us, stood when Walt came through
the door. Another cop come up in
the doorway, his hand at the ready,
resting on his gun.
Walt, hiding something behind his
back, stared at Ryker, who was still
sitting in the rocker.
“You boys done now?” Ryker said,
raising his eyebrows and smirking,
his leg bouncing like a lid on a pot of
boiling water.
“I think we can just about call it
a day.” Walt, with them blue kind of
rubber gloves on, held up the cigar
box just as the officer, who come in
with him, yanked Ryker’s hands behind his back and cuffed him.
Walt lifted the lid and Ryker’s
mouth fell smack open when he saw
all them hundred’s inside.
“That ain’t mine,” Ryker said,
shooting daggers at me and Ma as the
cop gave him a shove. “What is this?
That ain’t mine. I ain’t never seen that
before!”
“You’re right, Ryker. It’s not yours.
But with all this cash and Blaze
Martin’s driver’s license and dog tags
in this King Edward box, I think it’s
quite clear who this once belonged
to. Question is: Why was it in your
truck?”
Ryker, yelling that he was framed,
yelling about getting an attorney,
yelling about handcuffs and broken
wrists and cruel and unusual punishment was led out the door and down
the porch. He was yelling when they
put him in the car and probably never shut up the whole drive to jail.
Ma sat with her head in her hands
while the other officers went through
each room. I put my arm around her
as Walt explained that, once they was
done, they’d be back to take Ryker’s
truck away.
“I really think you and your mama
should get to a doctor. Have those injuries looked at,” Walt said. He turned
his attentions on Ma, “I suggest you
allow me to send over one of our
female officers. She can take some
photographs of you both and get
charges filed.”
Ma curled her legs up into her
chest, gave him that vacant-looking
no of hers that always hung across
her face after one of Ryker’s temper flares. I could hear the officers
pulling drawers out in the bedrooms,
tossing them on the floor when they
was done.
“We’ll think on it,” I said.
Walt poked around, feeling underneath the kitchen table and the TV
stand. He asked me and Ma to get up
and he moved the couch, picked up
the cushions and looked underneath.
Another officer started in on the
kitchen but it wasn’t long before the
big one gave the all clear.
Walt pulled a business card from
his coat pocket and handed it to me.
“Toby, if you ever need anything, you
call me, you hear? And ma’am, I guarantee. You file charges? He won’t be
bothering you anymore. He screwed
up royal this time,” he said, talking to
Ma but looking at me.
Walt waited to see if I’d bite on the
word royal, give myself away. But I
didn’t flinch. The officers, one by one,
worked their way outside like they
was buzzards who done picked their
kill clean. Walt’s face had them tired
lines around his eyes and, for a minute, I thought he was fixing to apologize for the mess they made, but he
just walked out the door, closing it
soft out of respect.
Ma and me sat on the couch
together, the house having gone
that deep quiet that comes after too
many dust-ups. The silence seemed
to stretch on forever and just as I was
about to ask her if she’d like some of
her special sweet tea, she spoke.
“I can’t believe Pa, after all he
did to me growing up, comes back
and…,” her words trailed off into
mutters. I squeezed her hand,
brushed the hair from her face. “He
watched me and Gram struggle to pay
the bills. You know how much them
pills cost. How we scraped by each
month. And he had money the whole
time? He never even offered to pay
rent. Said he was down on his luck.
Only thing he was ever down on was
me.”
“Ma, some men is just bad. Can’t
change—”
“And Ryker? He was no saint, but
there was a time when I thought we
had something real to hang our hats
on.” She stared at her hands in her
lap and the sad swimming through
her words made my heart ache a bit.
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