In the garage Lynette took out a bike with missing tires. It was blue with fluorescent orange stripes. She bought it in high school at a garage sale, but the tires were stolen outside the Laurelhurst movie theater when she was fifteen. Gloria followed her back and forth as Lynette kept making trips to the garage and then finally she dropped a cardboard box of Christmas lights on the lawn. “You told me you had no money. Last night I was hurting and I begged you for what you owe me and you didn’t give me anything. You said you were broke. Fair enough if you were, but now it sounds like you weren’t. I mean, why would you do that? I just don’t understand why you’d do that to me. I’ve tried so hard to be a good friend. Do you remember when you called me scared shitless in jail? You were crying so hard that you could barely talk. You begged me to pick you up and I did. I was the only real friend you had. You even told me that. And you were scared Terry would find out that you got a DUI and wouldn’t like you anymore and you were too broke to hire a lawyer and pay your fine. So who gave you eight thousand dollars without batting an eye?” She waited a moment, but Gloria said nothing. “Well, I did. And what about that time when you got so drunk you fell in your kitchen and cut your leg and had to go to the emergency room? You couldn’t call Terry then either and you didn’t want your other boyfriend to know. Or the time you got stranded in Salem with that weirdo businessman. You said you weren’t seeing any other men, but you always are. You didn’t want Terry to find out. So I came and got you. I beat on the hotel room door and then went in and got you out of the bathroom where you were hiding. . . . Jesus, I’m stupid. You can call the cops if you want. Bring over a SWAT team and have them tear the house down looking for it. But your safe isn’t here.”
“You’re just trying to depress me,” said Gloria. Lynette noticed that the makeup on her face had been put on too thick and her lipstick was a bit off, as was her eyeliner. “That’s all you’re doing. Always bringing up my past, bringing up things that aren’t really me, that aren’t who I really am. You always try to pull me down this way. Terry thinks you’re jealous of me ’cause you’re always broke and you drive a shitty car and live in a dump. He thinks you want to be me and that’s why you’re such a leech. I always told him he wasn’t right, but I think he is right.”
“Look,” said Lynette. “You didn’t go to Catlin Gabel private school and you sure as fuck didn’t go to Berkeley. So if I remind you that you grew up in Clatskanie in a trailer and had to get your GED to graduate from high school and that you even flunked out of flight attendant school, it’s because that’s who you are. And you can’t get rid of that no matter how much shit you buy. You’re a prostitute, I’m a prostitute. But I’ve tried to be your friend, your real friend, and you fucked me. You basically stole from me. So please just leave me alone, and if you keep bothering me, I’ll call Terry and I’ll tell him to look for your Catlin Gabel yearbook and I’ll tell him you didn’t go Berkeley.”
Gloria began pacing back and forth. “Why would you do that? Why would you ruin me? I mean, just give me back the safe and you can have the eight grand. I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you last night. I should have, but I was in a hurry. But I swear I’ll give you the money I owe you. And I’ll even give you a grand extra as interest. Just give me back the safe.”
Lynette grabbed her by the coat. “Look, I don’t have your safe. I don’t know how many times I got to tell you.”
“I know you have it, I know it, so just give it back to me. There’s pictures I want, and jewelry.”
Lynette turned and saw Kenny walking toward her. She had left the front door open and now he was looking past her as one of the junk men picked up his Big Wheel and threw it over the metal railing and into the back of the truck. He screamed in horror when he saw it and jogged toward the truck and the two men.
Lynette ran to him to keep him off the street. She put her arm around him. “It’s okay,” she said gently. “Don’t get upset. You know you can’t fit on the Big Wheel anymore. We’ve tried and tried, but you can’t. We’ll find you a better thing. I promise. But let these guys get back to work ’cause they’re workmen and you like workmen.”
Kenny was dressed in his red Trail Blazers sweat suit. He couldn’t stop crying and then a dark spot appeared from his crotch and ran down his leg.
Gloria walked to the sidewalk where they stood. “I want my goddamn safe.”
“Jesus, I don’t have it,” cried Lynette. “Check the house if you want. Call the cops if you want, but just leave us alone.”
Gloria shook in anger. “You and your fucked-up brother and your nutjob mom. Well, I’m calling the cops and they’ll fucking throw you all in prison and I hope you rot there for the rest of your lives.” She flipped Lynette off, then walked across the street, got into her car, and drove away.
20
The junk men left. Lynette gave Kenny a shower, put clean clothes on him, made him another peanut butter and jam sandwich, sat him on the couch, and started the DVD Brave. In the kitchen she used her mother’s landline and called JJ’s home phone, and once again it was answered by the pregnant girl. The TV was on in the background and Lynette waited for a long time before JJ came on the line.
“What the fuck did you do?” he asked in groggy voice.
“What did I do?” she said as quietly as she could. “I know you don’t like me, but you could have gotten me killed. That guy is really crazy. And I paid you back for the abortion. I even gave you extra money for doing it. I know it took me a while, but I was in a bad way. I had to get a job again and then save money. But I paid you back and you know I did because I called to make sure you got it and you said you did. And when we lived together I worked at your store for free and I cooked and cleaned your house. I paid my way and you know I did because you always said it. You always said that I did more than I had to. And after all you put me through, why would you set me up like that? I mean, I just don’t understand.”
“I didn’t think it would get so out of hand,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d Mace him.”
“He pulled a gun on me, what was I supposed to do? He said you owed him money and this was the way you’d get out of debt. He said you guys had planned it out.”
“I do owe him money,” JJ said and coughed. “And now thanks to you I have to pay him back. I’ve owed him a couple grand for three years. I thought he forgot about it. But then when I called him to set things up for you, he reminded me what I owed him and I thought maybe it could work out, that he’d just give you a grand or two and you’d be alright with that and he’d be alright and I wouldn’t have to deal with getting him his money. Now he says I’ve got to give him the two grand by the end of next week or he’s gonna come over and take it. Thing is, I don’t have two grand and my mom is on a European cruise and I can’t get ahold of her.”
“That’s not my fault.”
“Maybe, but he’s asking me where you live.”
Lynette put her elbows on the kitchen table and sighed. “So what should I do?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know how pissed off he really is.”
She paused for a time and then said, “If I give you the money, the two grand, will you tell him to leave me alone? I’d give it to him myself, but I don’t want to be near him again. The thing is, I know he’ll find out where I live and I don’t want him to bother my mom. Will you call him and ask him if that’ll be okay? And you have to tell him the truth. You have to tell him I don’t owe you anything. That it wasn’t my fault. I mean he’s the one who pulled a gun on me. He forced it to go that way, not me. Will you promise to tell him that if I give you the money and his gun back?”
JJ coughed again and she could hear him light a cigarette. “I’ll tell him, but the thing is, it wasn’t just two grand. It was closer to three. I think I could get him off your back for three.”
“Three?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll give you three,” Lynette said, her voice growing sadder. “I’ll give it to you.”<
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In a shoebox with papers she found the registration to her car, and while Kenny watched his movie, she moved the Sentra to the carport and took the money from the trunk and her personal things out of it. A wrecking yard on Columbia Boulevard said they would take it if she brought it to them by five, so when she was finished, she and Kenny left. First she drove to JJ’s and gave him the three thousand dollars and Rodney’s gun. After that she drove to the post office on Killingsworth and parked. On an overnight box she wrote Gloria’s address with her left hand. The writing was crude but legible. She put no note inside, only the nine thousand dollars, the personal papers, the photos, the jewelry, and the silver dollars.
At B & R Auto Wrecking she gave them the title and the keys and they gave her two hundred dollars cash for the car. It was four fifty p.m. and raining and already dark. From there they took a Radio Cab to Stark Street Pizza. Lynette ordered a medium pepperoni and two Cokes and they sat by the video games and ate.
It was night and still raining when the cab stopped in front of their home. The white Avalon was in the carport, the porch light was on, and Lynette and Kenny went inside to find their mother on the couch, watching TV and smoking a cigarette. Kenny went to her and she muted the sound and said, “My god, how did you clean so fast?”
Lynette put her purse on the table near the front door and sat in the wooden chair. “I got one of those trucks that say they move junk. Those guys take anything and they loaded it all. I also went to the Goodwill a bunch. I got rid of almost all my clothes.”
“I want to get rid of all mine, too. I hate everything I wear,” her mother said, half looking at the TV. “How’s your back?”
“It’s been hurting all day because of moving, but I think I’m okay,” said Lynette. “My ribs hurt worse than the cuts.”
“They say rib injuries are the most painful. You want me to redo your bandages?”
“Would you mind?”
Her mother put out her cigarette. “I bought more bandages and more hydrogen peroxide,” she said and took the electric blanket off herself, put it on Kenny, and stood up. Lynette turned up the thermostat and her mother grabbed the plastic bag from Walgreens and followed her to the bathroom. Her mother helped her off with her shirt and Lynette sat on the toilet.
“Jesus, you got beat up. The bruises are really showing now.”
“I know,” whispered Lynette.
Her mother sat on the edge of the bathtub and took the gauze, white tape, and bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the bag.
“What did you do today?”
“I went over to Mona’s house,” her mother said. “Do you remember her?”
“You used to work with her, right?”
“Yeah, for about five years. I’d guess that was maybe fifteen years ago. You probably remember her husband.”
“I’m not sure.”
Her mother took off the large gauze bandages. One cut was completely covered with dried blood and looked better, but the other was still open and looked infected. “We went out on his boat once,” she said. “He’s the guy who wore the too-tight swim trunks and the golf shirts and had the huge belly. One of those guys who looked pregnant.”
“Did he smoke a pipe?”
“Yeah, that’s him. Mona said when he died he weighed close to four hundred pounds. Can you imagine carrying that around? Jesus, he must have been tired all the time. They had to hire men to get him out of the house. Mona said they have services like that now. Weight-lifting strongmen to pick up fat people who die at home. She said they have the same thing at hospitals, too. Weightlifters to move fatsos around. I don’t know why everyone’s getting so fat, but they sure are. A lady who comes by the store, Rayleen, once told me, she said, ‘Sometimes all you can do in life is have another bowl of ice cream. Sometimes that’s the only move you can make to keep yourself from going completely nuts.’ Maybe she’s right. Boy, they’ll sure get a workout with me the way things are going. You’ll see, when it hits, it hits, and there ain’t much you can do about it. Anyway, Mona’s husband had a heart attack watching TV. Mona was in the room with him at the time. Can you imagine? What an awful thing to see. I don’t know if you remember, but Mona said she hurt her back at work. I mean, my God, how do you hurt your back working in a jewelry store? But after a lot of paperwork bullshit she got the claim. Every month she gets a check. She’s pretty savvy that way. Seven hundred and thirty-five bucks a month plus she’s getting her husband’s Social Security check. It’s only eight hundred ’cause she’s claiming it early and he never made any real money in his life. Still, together, it’s a decent amount. But the thing is, over the years they mortgaged their house and then remortgaged it again. They added a deck, put in a hot tub, and he bought that boat we went on. So now she owes on the house even though they’ve had it for more than thirty years. So I was talking with her a while back. She said she was struggling to pay the mortgage on her own and scared she would have to get a job again, so after a lot of back and forth, I told her I’d help her out.” Her mother paused and then said uncertainly, “I’m gonna move in with her.”
“Really?” said Lynette.
“Hey, only a couple of the cuts still look bad. The big one near your right shoulder looks like something might still be in it.” She pressed near it. “Do you feel that area?”
“Yeah.”
“Is it more painful than the other?”
“Yeah.”
“I think we might have to try to clean it out again. There might be something still in there. I’ll get my glasses.”
Her mother got up and left the room and came back with her reading glasses and her bedside lamp. She plugged it in and pointed it at Lynette’s back and then went to the medicine cabinet and found the tweezers. She washed them in the sink. “This is probably gonna hurt.”
“That’s okay,” said Lynette. “Where is Mona’s house?”
“You know where Gartner’s Meats is on Killingsworth?”
“I think so.”
“It’s across the road by Glenwood trailer park. It’s not the best part of town. It’s not even a real neighborhood, but she says she’s never had a break-in. I’m surprised about that, but that’s what she says.” Her mother poured hydrogen peroxide on the cut and wiped it off with toilet paper. “I’m gonna pull it apart some. So get ready.”
“I’m ready.”
“Okay, I’m going to do it now.” Her mother pulled the cut apart and Lynette cried out. “I’m sorry, baby. Just a little bit more. I think I missed a piece. I think I see something.” She took the tweezers and pulled out a thin sliver of glass and put it in the sink. She looked around the cut once more. “I think I got it. I think that’s it,” she said and again rinsed it with peroxide.
“What’s Mona like? I can’t really remember her.”
“She’s alright, she’s got a good sense of humor, but she’s kind of a moper. A real ‘Why me?’ sorta person. She’s the type who would complain if she won the lottery because she’d have to go through traffic to collect her ten million dollars.”
Lynette laughed. “And you want to live with her?”
“It’s cheap and I do like her and I don’t have to come up with a deposit. Everything’s in her name and she doesn’t want anything up front. She and I have been talking about living together for a while.”
“For a while?”
“Just talking. You know how I am.” Her mother took a dish towel from a shelf near the door and soaked it with peroxide and wiped the other cuts on her back. “How you holding up?”
“It hurts, but I’m alright. What’s her house like?”
“It’s not much. I think her husband built the place and he wasn’t much of a carpenter. None of the doors shut right and half the windows don’t open. There’s carpet, but it’s maroon shag. It’s that real bushy kind, maybe two inches high, and I don’t think you can really get that kind of carpet clean. And if you ask me, it’s ugly, but she loves the color red. I’ve never seen a person like one col
or that much. She even picked out my lipstick. Look.”
Lynette turned around to see dark red lipstick on her mother’s lips. “I like that color. It looks good on you.”
“I like it, too,” her mother said and picked up the bedside lamp and once again looked over the cuts. “I think we’re almost done. The one on your shoulder is the only one to worry about, but I think I got all the glass out of it this time. Now all I have to do is put Neosporin on and then the Band-Aids and then the two bandages. So just keep holding tough.”
“Thanks,” said Lynette. “How big is her place?”
“Smaller than ours. No basement either. Her washer and dryer are in the garage, but they’re new, so that’ll be nice. The house has a good hot water heater and a heat pump. I’m not sure how those things work, but it’s always warm, and Mona likes it warm and she says it doesn’t cost much to keep it that way.”
“And you’ll have your own room?”
Her mother put Band-Aids on the smaller cuts and started in on the gauze pads and white tape for the larger ones. “Yeah. It’s pretty big and has a sliding glass door that opens onto a deck. The deck just looks out over her yard though and it’s mostly blackberry bushes. Behind her fence is some sort of construction business. I think they do scaffolding. A bunch of trucks and things like that. I probably won’t go out there except to smoke. She doesn’t like smoking in the house, but I guess nobody does anymore. She has a hot tub on the deck, too, but it’s broken. I guess a pipe broke and Mona won’t fix it.”
Her mother finished taping the last bandage. “Alright, we’re done,” she said.
Lynette sighed.
“It still hurts, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Her mother put the cap on the peroxide and threw the dish towel and the used bandages in the trash basket. She put the boxes of gauze pads and Band-Aids, peroxide, and Neosporin back in the Walgreens bag. “Do you need help with your shirt?”
The Night Always Comes Page 15
