Pernicious (47 page)

         
“That’s not why I’m doing this. Really, it’s not.”

         
“Weird-ever.”

         
“Guess I should tell you that I won’t be in court tomorrow. My doctor said he would write me a waiver explaining my absence.”

         
“Michael tried that and it backfired on him. What makes you so special?”

         
“Nothing. Nothing at all. I should be going.”

         
“One more thing,” Perry said as Tasha was getting into her car. “While you’re seeing your shrink, you oughta ask him if he knows a good dermatologist. Your skin looks terrible, absolutely horrible! Not trying to be funny, it doesn’t make sense you in public looking like a wart hog.”

         
Nodding, right eye twitching, Tasha said, “I just might do that. Good-bye.”

         
When Tasha’s car disappeared down the street, Perry kicked over a flowerpot. “Damn!”

                                     
* * * * *

         
Tasha managed to drive several blocks away before stopping the Honda. Her entire body shook.

         
“I’ve got to maintain control,” she told herself. “Got to keep it together!”

         
Still, she couldn’t stop shaking. Then the tears came again, a deluge of fear and dread overflowing. I’m losing it, she thought.
Really and truly losing it
!

         
A tap at the window startled her.

         
“Lady, are you all right?” asked a redheaded boy. He looked the same age as Derrick; wearing a Chicago Bulls jersey, the number twenty-three, the same one she’d bought Derrick on his birthday last year.

         
“I’m fine,” tears flowing freely down her face.

         
“There’s a church a couple blocks down the road.” He pointed down the street.

         
“Thanks,” Tasha said. “I’m fine.”

         
The boy nodded, walked off, occasionally looking back.

         
He probably thinks I’m nuts.

         
She thought about what he’d said, folded her hands and started praying.

                                     
Chapter 24

         
While Tasha prayed in her car, Perry stood on her front porch, considering the change in circumstances. Bumpy Face, she thought, was losing her mind.

         
Good, because the bitch deserves everything she has coming to her. Bad, because now I’ll have to wait, or do everything tonight. Who knows what a shrink might suggest she do? Move to Florida? Commit herself to the nuthouse?
 
Then I’ll be stuck with Waterhead forever
.

         
“Shit!”

         
A few more weeks with Neal and I’ll get committed with Bumpy Face. Even Willie, a certified crackhead, would at least do something around the house. This sorry piece of shit don’t do nothing but lay around and get high all day. He thinks he’s going to live free off me the rest of his life.

         
“Wrong, buddy! Dead wrong!”

         
Who does he think I am? A yippy-dippy fool? A green-eyed slut just into town with egg money?
“Uh-uh!”
And if his big-headed brat breaks anything--
anything!
--I’ll beat his ass.
         
Perry then remembered that if her plans went accordingly, she would be solely responsible for Derrick.

         
I’ll raise him…beat the wussy outta him. With me he’ll learn how to act like a man.

         
She walked into the house and discovered Neal asleep on her black leather couch, dirty boots on, a large bag of Doritos clutched to his chest. This also disturbed her. How many times had she told him that the parlor was for company, not lounging.

         
“Where’s the brat?” nudging him.

         
“Huh?”

         
“The boy, where’s he at?”

         
“Derrick?” Neal dropped the Doritos on the floor and looked around the room. “He was here a minute ago. Maybe he went outside.”
         
“He didn’t go outside. I was outside, and he didn’t come out.”

         
Neal rolled away from her, on his side. “He must be upstairs then.”

         
Perry stood over him a long moment, glaring at him.

         
I could just smash his fucking head right now. He’ll never know what hit him. Got his damn boots on my furniture while his brat is somewhere tearing up shit
.

         
Perry tiptoed upstairs. She checked every room upstairs except her bedroom. No sign of Derrick. She started to go downstairs when she saw him closing her bedroom door.

         
“What the fuck are you doing in there?”

         
Derrick jumped, his eyes two large saucers. “I-I-I was looking for my daddy.”

         
Perry seized him by the collar. “Your dad-
dee
is not in there, and you know it! What were you doing in there?”

         
Derrick started crying. “I-I was…looking…f-fo-for…m-m-my…d-d-da-daddeeee!”

         
Perry grabbed his wrist and hauled him into the bedroom. The gold bedspread was folded back on top of the bed.

         
He’s been rambling!

         
Perry lifted him up, slammed his eighty-pound frame against the wall, held him there with one hand and grabbed his crotch with the other.

         
Whispering: “Stop crying, you hear! I’ve got one nutless wonder in this house already--I don’t need two.” She tightened her grip. “What the hell were you looking for in my bedroom?”

         
Derrick screamed. Perry released his crotch and covered his mouth.

         
“Derrick!” Neal called from the foot of the stairs. “Derrick?”

         
“He’s up here with me,” Perry said. “We’re playing a game.”

         
“Oh,” Neal said.

         
Perry waited several beats. “If I find something missing in my bedroom I’ll wait till you go to sleep and I’ll sneak in and chop off your little worm! Do you hear me?”

         
Face twisted in pain, Derrick didn’t respond.

         
 
“Dammit, do you hear me?”

         
Derrick blinked affirmatively.

         
“I’m going to take my hand off your mouth, and if you start hollering again I’ll chop it off now.
Now!
You’ll bleed like a stuck pig, and ain’t nothing your dad-
dee
or mam-
mee
can do to save you.

         
“Listen and listen good. When I let you go, walk quietly downstairs, go into the kitchen, sit down in one of the brown chairs--not my good chairs, the
brown
chairs--and shut the fuck up! Do you hear me?”

         
Derrick blinked again. Perry released him, and he fell to the floor, whimpering.

         
Once downstairs, Derrick started toward Neal, who had resumed his nap on the couch. Perry, close on his heels, cleared her throat and pointed toward the kitchen.

                                     
* * * * *

         
Several hours later Neal woke up and found Derrick sitting in a plastic chair near the patio door. Seeing his father, Derrick ran to him and embraced his legs.

         
“What’s the matter?” Neal said.

         
Derrick tried to respond but all he could emit was a plaintive wail. Then he started crying.

         
Perry came into the kitchen. “What’s the matter here?”

         
At the sound of Perry’s voice, Derrick tried to stifle his sobs, sucking up air, sniffing miserably.

         
“I bet he misses his mother,” Perry said.

         
“She’ll be back,” Neal said, patting Derrick’s back. “Meanwhile, you, me and Perry are going to have a lot of fun. Stop crying, okay?”

         
Derrick wailed louder.

         
“Derrick,” Perry said, “would you like a treat?” She knelt down and placed a hand on his shoulder. He jumped. “Derrick, wouldn’t you just love a batch of Rice Crispy treats?” He continued crying. “Neal, why don’t you take him out to the pool while I fix him a treat.”

         
“A good idea, isn’t it, Derrick? Let’s go out to the pool.”

         
But for Derrick’s loud sobs, Neal would have heard Perry singing as he and Derrick stepped out the back door: “Ain’t no fun times when he’s home…Ain’t no fun times when he’s home…‘cause he always home too damn long!”

                                     
* * * * *

         
Tasha stared hard at the pint of Jack Daniels, wondering if she should bust the cap.