Family Thang (38 page)

Instead he had to walk out in shame, the assistant well aware he didn’t have enough money to buy a guppy, much less an expensive boa constrictor.

He and Estafay had a little money in a cookie jar, but he couldn’t get it, not with the rent due and the light bill two days past the shut-off notice. Estafay would blow a fuse if she had to sit in the dark while he trained his new high-dollar snake in the backyard.

“Fuck!”

An hour later Robert Earl trudged up Maumelle Trail. The time had come for him to take matters in his own hands. He would convince Ruth Ann to give him some of the money; would not take no for an answer.

No sireee!

He patted the back pocket of his overalls. The knife was there. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use it, but he wouldn’t return to his truck without a guarantee he’d get some of that money.

The sun would be setting soon, and though he knew these woods like the back of his hand, he didn’t want to be out here at night. Ruth Ann’s boy didn’t have good sense; no telling what he might do if there were a full moon.

He walked up to the cabin and knocked on the door. No one answered. He pushed it open and stepped in. Ruth Ann lay asleep on an orange couch.

Nudging her awake, he said, “We need to talk.”

Ruth Ann stared at him dreamily, and then jumped to her feet, a hand over her mouth.

“We need to talk, Ruth Ann.”

She backed away from him. “Robert Earl!” she shouted, looking about the room. “Hello! Robert Earl is here! He’s in the cabin…with me!”

“What’s wrong with you? Why you acting crazy? Where’s the boy?”

“There’s nothing wrong with me, Robert Earl!” Ruth Ann shouted even louder. “What makes you think there could possibly be something wrong with me!”

“Why you hollering?”

“Am I hollering, Robert Earl?” Trembling: “Am I hollering, Robert Earl?”

“Yes, you’re hollering, making me nervous.” He sat down on the couch. “We need to talk. I need some of that money, and I won’t take no for an answer.”

“No problem!” She backed up against the wall. “No problem, Robert Earl! Hello!”

“I wish you stop hollering. I ain’t deaf. Sit down and talk to me.”

“I don’t want to sit down! Hello! I’m fine here!”

“I need some of that money. I have a dream. Ain’t got a dime to my name. It ain’t fair Daddy giving you
all
the money. You know he was wrong. If you don’t give me some…” He produced a red pocketknife and flipped open a four-inch blade.

Ruth Ann screamed.

Robert Earl looked at the blade and then up at Ruth Ann, her eyes bucked, tongue wriggling as she screamed. “I don’t get some of the money, I’m gonna hurt myself!”

“Freeze, brain trauma!” Shirley shouted, bursting into the cabin with a gun in her hand.

Robert Earl threw his hands up. “What the--Shirley, what are you doing?”

“Drop the knife!”

Robert Earl threw it down. “Shirley, watch where you’re pointing that thing.”

“You sure took a long time,” Ruth Ann said. “I could’ve been dead.”

“I went looking for the lady’s restroom. Couldn’t find it.”

“Shirley, what’s going on? Stop pointing that thing at me!”

“So it was you, Robert Earl,” Shirley said. “Who would’ve imagined? I didn’t think you had enough sense to jaywalk without getting run over.”

“Shirley, what are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumber than usual. You killed Daddy and you were fixin’ to kill Ruth Ann. Tie him up, Ruth Ann.”

“Tie him up? Tie him up with what?”

“What y’all been smoking up here? I didn’t kill Daddy. Tie me up? For what?”

“Shirley,” Ruth Ann said, “he didn’t threaten to kill me. He said if I didn’t give him some of the money he would hurt himself.”

Robert Earl said, “I mean it, too. If I don’t get some of Daddy’s money I’m going to do something bad to myself.”

Shirley lowered the gun to her side. “What were you going to do, Robert Earl? Nick yourself?”

“Wouldna gone that far. I was just going to hold the knife to my throat.”

“For Pete’s sake!” Shirley said.

“How ’bout it, Ruth Ann?” Robert Earl said.

“How about what?”

“The money? I’ve quit my job. Bills due. Estafay plans to get a lot of cosmetic surgery. Not to mention--”

“She can sure use it,” Shirley said.

“--my dream.”

“The snake gas station?” Ruth Ann said.

“Combination gas station and exotic snake farm. There’s a snake in Greenville I need to buy before somebody else gets it.”

“You call that a dream?” Shirley said.

“Yes, I do.”

“You need a mule.”

“Can a mule do tricks?”

“Did any number of your teachers suddenly disappear, left town without telling a soul?”

“Why you keep asking about my childhood?” To Ruth Ann: “Sis, you’re not letting your oldest brother, your only straight brother, lose his dream and get kicked out on the street, are you? I’m begging you. Please! If I had money you wouldn’t have to ask--I’d just give it to you.”

“Would you, really?”

“Yes. In a heartbeat. Whatever you needed.”

“Stop your begging, straight brother,” Shirley said. “You’ll get your share.”

“What? Is that right, Ruth Ann?”

Ruth Ann nodded.

Robert Earl jumped up in the air several times, shaking the entire cabin. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Thank you, Ruth Ann. Thank you! I told Shirley you were reasonable. I knew you were better off alive than dead.”

“What?” Ruth Ann said.

“Nothing. You’re my favorite sister.” He hugged her. “You know I wouldn’t let nobody kill you.”

Shirley laughed. “Robert Earl, Ruth Ann has nothing to do with you getting your share of the money.”

“Huh?” quickly releasing Ruth Ann.

“Shirley set a trap. She faked the will. Daddy didn’t leave all the money to me.”

Robert Earl stared at them both. “Which lie you want me to believe?”

“I faked the will,” Shirley said, “to draw Daddy’s killer up here. Once I catch whoever did it, we’ll all get our share of the money.”

“I see,” he said. “A trick…to catch the killer. You sure had me fooled.”

“Keep taking the bee pollen, Robert Earl. It’s finally starting to kick in.”

Robert Earl stared at the door. “If the killer comes here, he’s going to kill Ruth Ann.” He swallowed. “And whoever else is here. I need to get my butt out of here. Now! What if there’s gunplay?” Shirley held up the gun. “I might not know long division, Shirley, but that sure looks like a pellet gun to me.”

“I told you, Shirley!” Ruth Ann said.

“Robert Earl,” Shirley said, “why don’t you stay here and help us catch the killer? If the gun doesn’t work, you can hold the killer at bay with your knife.”

“Do I look stupid?” Shirley nodded. “Shirley, you’ve been watching too much television. I’m going home. Y’all know my number. Call me and let me know how it worked out.” He started for the door.

“Ruth Ann!” a voice cried from outside. 

Robert Earl froze. “Ruth Ann, someone is looking for you.”

Chapter 34

“Linda!” the man called.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“I dropped the remote. Come get it.”

Eric exhaled in relief when Linda leaned over the couch and retrieved the remote control. Thank God the man was lazy. Eric’s legs were numb. He’d ducked behind the couch in an uncomfortable position: knees bent; butt resting on his ankles; hands flat on the floor; head scrunched down to keep from showing above the headrest. And he now needed to pee.

A few minutes later a foul odor drifted behind the couch.
Hog maw?
Sure smelled like it.

Eric heard snoring.
The man sleeping!
Eric raised his head to take a peek.

If he could have seen himself, he would have viewed a sweaty forehead slowly rising above the headrest, followed by bucked eyes flitting in every direction, and finally a mouth, opened wide, the bottom lip quivering. The smell  much stronger now, he locked onto the source…feet…

…
funky feet!

Eric stared at the man’s washboard stomach and massive chest. Though asleep, the man’s muscles were taut, twitching. Eric chanced a look into the man’s face: brown-skinned, square chin, broad nose and an inch-long scar below the right eye.

The man’s mouth fell open, and Eric gulped.

Silver teeth!
Upper and lowers, all silver.

Why would someone have all their teeth silver?

To bite the shit outta somebody and never let go.

A moment Eric thought to huddle behind the couch and remain there till eternity. No, uh-uh, he had to get out.
How?

The man stopped snoring, raised his legs to a bent position, coughed and continued snoring.

Eric resumed breathing.
Jesus, pull me out of this one I’ll join church. Visit old folks at the nursing home. Donate money to those
pitiful-looking puppies on TV.

Jesus, just get me out of here!

He waited for a miracle; none came. Only one option available: he had to clear the couch without waking the man. He waited a few minutes more before standing up and carefully hoisting his right leg over the man to the front of the couch.
Damn!
Should have gone with the left first, he thought, more strength in the right.

Damm
it!
He inhaled, held it and hopped off his left foot…A perfect maneuver…He was clearing the couch, the man…and then his right foot landed on something other than the floor.

A damn shoe!

His ankle twisted and he fell backward.
Oh shit!
He landed on his back on the couch, legs akimbo, his groin only a few inches from the man’s feet.

Again the man stopped snoring, and Eric watched the man’s chest stop rising and falling as well.
Is
he dead?
The snoring restarted and the man crossed his right leg over the left and rested his feet squarely in Eric’s crotch. Rivulets of sweat dripped down Eric’s face and the stench of the man’s feet almost made him hurl.