American River Review 2022 - copy - Flipbook - Page 36
hair off her neck and said something
about the heat, her lips forming a
pretty little pout.
“No, no, no,” Ryker said, shaking
his finger back and forth, the hunger in his eyes trying to eat up all
his rage. “Ain’t none of that gonna
work this time, Mar. I’m in a heap of
trouble. That detective? He come in
the bar today. Sat down and ordered
a drink. Started asking questions
about….” Ryker glanced at me.
Ma placed her finger on Ryker’s
chin, guided him back in her direction, let her hand trail down his chest
until it landed on his belt buckle. She
said, “You worry too much, Ryker.”
Then she looked in the cab. “C’mon
Bug, we got to get you something to
eat. It’s been a long day.”
Ma took off for the house and I got
out of the truck.
“You don’t get it, Mar. This guy was
fucking with me. Asked me if I was
up for a game of Liar’s Dice, then
tipped his glass over the edge of the
bar. Said, ‘Do you think that drink fell
or would you say it was pushed?’ Jesus, Mar.” Ryker ran his hand through
that stringy hair, then quick as snot,
punched the truck.
Ma stopped, her body stiffening at
the sound.
We both knew once Ryker started
swinging, things could go any which
way. I might get a punch to the gut or
Ma might be wincing later with every
move, asking me for some of them
pills to take the edge off. Or he might
start crying like a little girl and I’d get
shooed off and have to eat my bologna and mayonnaise sandwich down
by the creek, then listen by the door
to make sure all was quiet before I
come back inside.
Ma turned back around, face twisted up with worry. Ryker was holding
his hand and cursing a white streak.
“Oh baby, come here sugar. Come
here,” she said, her words fading into
whispers as she pressed his cheek
into her chest. “Come inside, let’s get
some ice on it.”
She shot me a look over the top of
Ryker’s head. Time to tag-team feeling sorry for him, as we sometimes
did, until he wasn’t mad no more. I
did what her eyes told me.
I ran in the house and checked the
time. It was a few minutes after 4:00,
so I flipped on Dark Shadows, Ryker’s
36
favorite. By the time they got in the
house, I had pushed everything off
the couch and fetched a frozen bag of
peas and a cold beer.
Ma sat him down, turned on our
only working fan and let it sweep
across Ryker, like she could blow
away the blame he was putting on
her.
“Goddamnit, Mar. You should’ve
told me what he done to you. Leaving
me to get blindsided with something
like that? What’d you expect would
happen?”
“You’re right. I should’ve told you.”
Ma started to cry.
“Well, you done it now. What am I
gonna do? Cop crawling around the
bar? I could lose my fucking job. How
am I gonna make drinks with a broken hand?” Ryker jerked his hand toward her face and then jerked it back
just as fast, making a watery sound as
he whistled in a breath between his
teeth. “Son-of-a-bitch.”
“We’ll figure this thing out.”
Ryker rocked back and forth, holding his hand. “What’d you think? You
could just walk away from me? After
all I done for you? I set things right,
Mar.”
Ma filled the room up with cooing
sounds and more than enough I’m
sorries. She whispered something in
his ear I couldn’t hear. He looked at
me like he’d forgot I’d been standing
there. She snapped the beer and peas
out my hand and said, “You go on
now, Bug. Sit a spell by the creek.”
“But Ma, I’m hungry.”
Ma started to rise from the couch.
“I think we got some—”
Ryker slapped his good hand down
hard on her thigh, plopped her back
down like she was a rag doll. “Boy
could stand to miss a meal. Jesus,
Mar.” Ryker sat hunched and clutched
his hand, muttering about the detective, about the sticky drink on the
floor mat, about what an ungrateful
woman Ma was, about two strikes
making it to a third, about jail and
running and hard time.
Ma stared at him a beat longer
than safe, then snapped at me to
make up for it. “He’s right, Bug. You
ain’t gonna die you miss one dinner.
Now, go on.”
I let out a huff and stamped my
feet toward the door real loud. I knew
Ryker’d lay off Ma if he thought she’d