American River Review 2022 - copy - Flipbook - Page 39
skunks, swapping stories about all
the women they had, each one trying
to outdo the other as they’d passed
the bottle back and forth. They took
a seat on the edge of the ridge and
got to whispering and laughing,
which was strange because I always
got the feeling they ain’t never liked
each other much. Then Blaze yelled,
“Marriage?” like it was a cuss word
and shoved Ryker so hard I thought
he was going over.
I crouched down, let the night hide
me. A blackberry thorn poked its way
through my jeans and I pulled it careful out my thigh. One of the walleyes
twitched in my bucket and I put my
hand over it to hold it down quiet.
By the time I looked up, Ryker’s
chest was puffed out like he was making to fight. Blaze was standing too,
his face all hard edges saying something about the bottle not being the
only thing they been sharing.
One of the smaller fish slipped up
under my palm, twisting like he was
on fire and I almost tipped the bucket
clean over. I swear Blaze looked up
and seen me, so I scooted back behind one of them sycamore trees and
hid behind the trunk. My heart was
beating so hard I felt it in my ears.
I got all my stuff together and ran
home as fast I could.
I waited for Blaze. Knew he’d come
home and start in about me snooping. But the only thing that come
from that night was the next day
when Ma said he was dead.
I woke up to Ryker yelling, “Shit.
Shit. Shit!” followed by a bunch of
scurrying sounds that made me think
of the way cockroaches scatter when
the light’s turned on. I made my way
down the hall, sleep still heavy on my
eyelids, a smear of barbeque sauce
on my shirt.
Somebody was knocking on the
front door and Ryker was crouched
by the window, waving mad at Ma.
“He knows we’re here, Ryker. Both
our trucks are out front,” Ma said,
worrying her hands on her apron.
I asked what was going on and
they both shushed me quiet.
The knock came harder and Ma
looked at Ryker and pointed toward
the bedroom. “I’ll tell him you went
fishing. Don’t you worry, I’ll get rid of
him.”
Ryker slinked down the hall like a
dog that just done peed on the rug.
I could tell Ma was scared, so I
come up next to her, held her hand as
she opened the door.
“Good morning, Ma’am. I’m Detective Baker. I’d like to ask you a few
questions about the death of your
father, Blaze Miller.”
That bushy mustache curled up
into a smile when he laid eyes on me.
“Toby,” he said. “Long time. No see.”
Ma’s mouth about hit the floor as
she went from looking at Walt then
back at me.
“Met your boy down by the creek
last night. Fine son, you got there.”
“Ma, I didn’t know.”
“Ma’am, he didn’t know about me
being a detective. We were just two
men talking by the water.”
Ain’t nobody ever call me a man
before and I liked the way it sounded.
He took his hat off, began folding the
brim in his hands, his whole body
apologizing for disturbing us so early
on a Sunday morning.
“Ma’am, I get the feeling you’ve
been avoiding me. I don’t know why,
but there are some things you should
know about your late father.”
“I’m not avoiding you. Just busy
is all. Raising a son by myself. My
mama just died. I got my hands full
at the moment. Maybe we should talk
some other time.”
Ma started to close the door, but
Walt put his foot on the hardwood
and stopped it from closing with his
hand. “Ma’am, if you would just listen
for a minute.”
A thunk come from the back of the
house and the detective curled his
neck around the door to take a peek.
“Everything alright in here?” he said,
looking at Ma, then down at me.
“It’s the cat,” Ma said.
Walt’s face had questions all over
it, but I dropped my head, stared at
my bare feet like they was interesting.
“Cats,” he said, a slow grin blooming
on his face. “My ex had cats. Knocked
things off the counter just to watch
them fall.”
He stared at Ma. The air in the
room got heavy and hot, nobody
talking, the ticking of Gram’s clock
the only sound filling up the room.
“Listen, I won’t take much more of
your time. Are you aware that your
father had come into some money?”
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