All the Ugly and Wonderful Things (18 page)

“Hmmm,” she said, already half asleep.

A car drove down the road to the south, going too fast. After it passed, crickets filled up the quiet. A while later, another car came down the road, scattering gravel. I was just about asleep when a squealing thud jerked me wide awake. I sat up and Wavy woke up with a whimper, clutching at me.

The car engine clunked and died.

“Somebody just wrecked up on the road. I'm gonna walk over and check it out,” I said.

I wanted Wavy to stay there, but when I pulled on my boots, she did the same. We struck out across the meadow toward the road and, when we came over the rise, I could see headlights off to the southwest. The road curved there, with a fork to the north for a service road to the stock tank and windmill. There was a cattle guard across the ditch between iron gate posts. Car musta took the curve too fast.

When Wavy broke into a run, I knew she'd figured it out, same as me. Two cars driving away from the farmhouse in the middle of the night? One was probably Val.

Cutting through the hay, Wavy left me behind. When I got to the ditch, the passenger side headlight blinded me, skewing up at the wrong angle. I tripped over something and landed hard, gravel digging into my elbow. I hauled myself back up and ran like I hadn't since I played football in high school.

One of the gate posts had cut through the car's hood, ruptured the radiator, and rammed the engine right into the front seat. There was antifreeze and gas pouring onto the road, turning it to mud. The driver's side was down into the ditch, and with the engine in the way, I couldn't see any way to get to Val. She was pinned behind the wheel and covered in blood. Dead for all I knew. For all I cared really, except I didn't want Wavy to see that.

Wavy jerked open the rear passenger door, getting ready to crawl into the backseat before I caught her. She tried to pry my hand off her arm, so I grabbed her around the waist and tossed her over my shoulder. Even with her kicking and pounding on me, I didn't dare let go of her.

Headed down the road toward the ranch, with the headlights at my back, I saw what I'd tripped over coming out of the meadow. Donal, laying face down in the ditch. I set Wavy down, but when she saw her brother, she went crazy trying to get to him, so I had to drag her back.

“Don't, Wavy, don't! You can't move him. You can't.”

She dug her nails into my arm where I had her around the waist, but she stopped fighting.

“If he's hurt, his back or his neck, you can't move him, okay? Promise?”

She nodded and when I let go of her, she crawled to Donal and touched his hand. I woulda checked for a pulse, but it didn't matter. If Donal was alive, we needed to get help. If Donal was dead, we needed to get help.

“You're faster than me, Wavy. You gotta run and get help.”

She stood up and looked west down the road, then east. Trying to decide which was closer.

“Go down to the ranch and tell them what happened. Run as fast as you can,” I said. I wanted that to be the right thing.

She ran west, toward the farmhouse.

She was gonna call 911.

The day I wrecked, I sent her to call Liam, because you don't call 911 if you wreck your bike a mile from a four-thousand-square-foot metal barn full of meth-making equipment. But when your little brother's lying in a ditch, maybe with a broken neck, things like that don't matter.

I got down on my hands and knees in the road next to Donal. I put my ear as close to his cheek as I could and held my breath. So soft I almost couldn't hear it over the wind in the hay, Donal breathed in and out. In and out. Whatever happened, Wavy made the right choice.

 

11

DEE

“Thank God we weren't cooking tonight,” Dee said. The cops had been less than a mile from the barn. If Butch had been cooking, the cops would have smelled it, but they didn't. And nobody got killed. The cops said getting thrown out of the car probably saved Donal's life. All he ended up with was a concussion and a broken arm. If he'd had on his seatbelt, the engine would have crushed him.

The other good thing was that when the ambulance came, the only person the cops talked to was Kellen. He kept them away from the trailers.

Liam freaked out anyway. Of course, he loved Val—she was his wife—but listening to him cry and carry on pissed Dee off.

“She'll be fine,” Dee said as they drove to the hospital in Garringer. She'd smoked too much crystal trying to get herself jump-started. So had Liam, because he couldn't stop talking.

“This whole deal is my fault. If I were living at the farmhouse, taking care of her like I promised, this wouldn't have happened. I've gotta fix this. I've gotta make this right.”

“It's gonna be okay, baby.” Dee kept saying that, because if something got fixed, it might fix her out of the picture.

At the hospital, there wasn't enough crank in the world to make Val look okay. They glimpsed her through a window, lying in a bed with tubes running in and out.

“I'm her husband,” Liam said, so they let him into the room for a minute.

Dee got in with a lie: “I'm her sister.”

Val was fucked up. A Frankenstein monster with stitches running across her forehead.

Liam cried for a good ten minutes after he saw Val. Dee held him, relieved. Yes, he loved Val, and he had the hots for Sandy, but Dee was there for him when there was a problem. He needed her.

People came and went all day: Sandy, Scott, Vic, Butch, Lance, Ricki. In the evening, while Liam was in the bathroom topping himself up, Kellen showed up with Wavy. They looked rough around the edges, but at least they hadn't been at the hospital all day, unlike Dee, who felt like someone had run a cheese grater over her nerves.

When Liam saw Kellen talking with Butch, he headed right for them and bailed into Kellen.

“What the hell happened?” Liam said.

“Like I was telling Butch, I was out in the meadow and heard the crash. I don't know what happened, except Val went off the road and hit that cattle gate. I'm sorry the cops came out, but it looked really bad. That's why I called 911. And the cops didn't go near the ranch.”

“I mean, what happened? Why was Val out driving?”

“I don't know,” Kellen said.

“How can you not know? You were at the house, weren't you?”

“No. I was in the meadow.”

“Don't lie to me, you son of a bitch.” Liam jabbed his finger into Kellen's chest.

It scared Dee when Liam got wild-eyed like that. As big as Kellen was, Liam would take him on when he got in that state.

“I wasn't at the house.” Kellen's voice was too soft for Liam to hear when he got crazy. “I think Sean—”

“You think I don't know how you're always hanging around, trying to insinuate yourself into her bed?”

“It's not like that. I never—”

“You think she'd ever have a use for some slob like you? What? You think she's gonna divorce me and marry you?”

“What're you talking about?” Kellen said.

“Liam, don't.” Butch put a hand on his arm, but Liam shoved it away.

“I oughta fucking kill you for coming around my wife even thinking that kinda shit.”

Dee held her breath, waiting for it to all blow up. Kellen took a step back and brought his hands up, ready to field a punch. The nurse at the night station stood up and reached for the phone. God, if she called security, they'd have a problem. Liam couldn't back down from a fight when he was tweaking, especially if cops were involved.

“Look,” Butch said. “I don't know what's going on in your head, Liam, but you need to stop and look around. Kellen isn't here for some—”

“You don't know, man. This fucking asshole's been going around my house every goddamn day, acting like he lives there.”

“He brought Wavy to see her mother and her little brother. That's why he's here.” Butch put his hand on Liam's arm again and turned him toward Wavy, who stood there watching in that eerie way she had. Like the little girls from
The Shining
.

“I just brought Wavy to visit. I didn't mean to cause trouble,” Kellen said.

“You didn't. You're okay,” Butch said. “Right, Liam? He's okay?”

“He's okay. Yeah. I'm sorry, Kellen. I'm just all turned inside out.”

“It's alright. I'm gonna take Wavy home now.”

“Dee, you better go spend the night with her,” Butch said.

Dee glared at him. Like hell she was spending the night in an empty house with that creepy little girl while Liam was with Val.

“Wavy doesn't even talk to Dee. I'll go and sleep on the couch,” Kellen said.

Butch seemed like he might keep arguing, but Kellen was already turning away. When he put his hand out to Wavy, she took it.

KELLEN

Riding down in the elevator to the parking garage, Wavy leaned against the opposite wall, staring at nothing. When the doors opened at the second-level parking, she walked ahead of me to where the truck was parked.

“Where do you want to go?” I said. “You want to stay down at the ranch with Sandy?”

Wavy turned around and took a few steps backwards so we could look at each other. She pointed at me.

“You want to stay with me? Or you want me to stay with you?”

She nodded. I knew she was gonna say that. And I knew I wouldn't sleep on the couch.

Unlike everybody else, me and Wavy had already been into the farmhouse and seen what Val did before she wrecked. Broken dishes and food all over the kitchen floor. In the living room, the coffee table was split in two like somebody had jumped on it. One of the couch legs was busted off and the cushions were cut open. Lying in the middle of that mess was a used syringe and a pair of lacy panties. Val even went into Wavy and Donal's rooms, ripped the sheets off the beds, broke toys and tore up library books.

Driving out to the farmhouse, we didn't talk about what to do. I parked the truck in the drive and we walked down into the meadow. The quilt was right where we left it, no worse for having spent the day out in the hayfield. The two cans of beer were warm, but I cracked one and drank it.

Wavy said all the stars, but we didn't make a game of it. After she fell asleep, I was still awake, listening to the quiet, thinking about what we'd have to do in the morning. While Wavy swept and mopped, I figured I'd haul the things Val had destroyed out to the trash barrel and burn them. I kept thinking about that, picturing what needed to be done, because that was as far as I could think. After we cleaned up the house, I didn't know what we'd do next.

 

12

DONAL

August 1982

I didn't remember Mama and me having our wreck, but I remembered Mama and Uncle Sean fighting. Just like she does with Daddy. Screaming and hitting and breaking stuff.

“I hate you!” Mama kept saying.

“Where is it? Where the fuck is it?” Uncle Sean yelled. He went stomping all around the house, tearing things up, even worse than Mama does when she's mad.

After he left, Mama said, “I'll show him.”

I was hiding under the bed, but she came and dragged me out and said, “Put your fucking shoes on. We're leaving.”

Then I guess we went for a ride and had our wreck, but I didn't remember that.

I got a cool cast on my arm and everybody signed it. For a while it was just Wavy and Kellen and me at the farmhouse, and I liked that. Wavy was happier, and when Kellen and me made jokes at dinner, she laughed out loud. I wanted us all to sleep together, but Kellen was too big, so he slept in Wavy's bed and she slept with me. Mostly.

Then Mama got to leave the hospital, and Daddy said, “I want you to come live with me.”

I thought that would be cool because there were motorcycles and puppies and firecrackers down at the trailers. Maybe I could get a bike, too.

Plus Wavy made me eat good-for-me stuff. Oatmeal and green beans. At Daddy's house, Sandy let me eat Pop-Tarts and frozen pizzas.

Also, Mama scared me. She was different people. “Wait,” Wavy said. Her rule was
Don't talk to Mama until she talks to you. Wait until you know which Mama she's going to be
. If Mama said, “Oh God, I'm so alone,” it was okay for me to hug her.

If Mama said, “Worthless motherfucker. I'll show him,” you better watch out. Even Kellen didn't like to come in the house when she was like that, and he was lots bigger than Daddy.

Before Mama came home from the hospital, Sandy helped me pack my stuff. We packed Wavy's clothes, too, while she sat on the bed, touching her quilt.

“We can take the quilt with us, honey.” Sandy stuck her hand out, getting ready to do something stupid. Only Kellen and me got to touch Wavy. And she could hit hard. Boy, I didn't want to see that.

“Don't touch her,” I said.

“Wha?” Sandy was kinda stoned so she was being silly.

Wavy stood up and Sandy started to fold her quilt.

“No,” Wavy said. When Sandy didn't stop, Wavy said it loud: “NO.”

“You don't want to take your quilt?”

“It's not her quilt,” I said. Grandma, who I didn't remember, made the quilt for Wavy, but I knew the rule.
Nothing belongs to you
. I knew the rule, but I didn't like it. My stuff was mine, like the pocketknife Uncle Sean gave me. If somebody tried to take it, I'd sock them.

Sandy put the quilt back on the bed and took the other stuff to the car.

First thing, when we got down the hill, I showed Wavy the puppies in the garage. It was okay for animals to touch her. She petted them and let them crawl on her lap.

I wanted to light firecrackers, but it was getting hot outside, so I said, “Let's go watch TV.” That was something else we didn't have at the farmhouse. Wavy had her little TV with rabbit ears, but Sandy's trailer had satellite.