by Ally Vance
“’Morning, Uncle Huck!” I say cheerfully. He stiffens slightly in my embrace before he gently shakes me off with a quiet chuckle. “Huck is just fine with me, Maddi. And good morning, darlin',” he replies as he takes a step to the left and reaches up into the cupboard for a couple of tall glasses.
I let out a sigh as I step away from Uncle Huck and make my way toward the refrigerator. I grab the carton of orange juice then walk back to where he set the glasses on the counter, filling each one half way before I put the carton back.
“Sorry about that,” I say softly.
“About what?” he inquires, glancing at me curiously.
I set my glass down and mime the good morning hug and he smiles. “That’s nothing to be sorry about, Maddi. I’m just not used to it yet, you know? Like I said yesterday, you were a little girl the last time I saw you and you never really did like to hug me then. I think I scared you actually,” he finishes with a laugh.
I reach for my glass and raise it to my lips looking at him with a critical eye. I don’t remember him being this damn tall, built, bearded, or scraggly haired either, but then again I don’t remember much from being a five-year-old anyway.
“You don’t scare me now,” I reply breezily to which he glances at me again and arches an eyebrow. “You kind of remind me of a caveman, really.”
He smiles again, shakes his head, and turns his attention back to breakfast. I take it as a sign that he wants to be left alone now, and I oblige him. It’s how Momma acts too when I’ve gotten on her nerves enough for one day, but she never smiles about it.
I walk into the dining room just off the kitchen, sit down on one of the wooden, handmade chairs and dangle my legs while I wait for Uncle Huck to come in with the spread.
There’s something I wanna ask him and I hope he won’t be too mad if I do.
Chapter Four
“This looks great!” I say enthusiastically as he sets down a large, cast-iron platter of vittles. There’s bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, the biggest pile of toast I’ve ever seen in my life, and even pancakes!
“Dig in, Maddi,” he encourages with a satisfied grin on his face. It makes me tilt my head and look at him for a moment. It’s almost like he’s not used to being praised for the smallest thing.
After I fill my plate with a little bit of this and that, I take a sip of my juice and clear my throat.
“Can I ask you something, Huck?” I begin conversationally. He shovels a forkful of pancakes into his mouth and nods without looking up.
“What happened with Aunt Brianna? Why did she leave?”
He drops his fork with a clatter, leans back in his chair, and eyes me dangerously. I scoff and shake my head. He may be bigger than Momma, but I’ve seen that look a thousand times before and it doesn’t scare me anymore now than it does when she gives it to me.
“She left,” he replies curtly through grit teeth. “That’s all there is to it.”
I lean back in my chair, tuck a leg underneath myself, and cross my arms over my chest.
“You’re lying. Momma always gets irritated like that too when she’s lying. What happened, Huck? I won’t tell anyone; I promise.”
“I said she left,” he barks at me. “End of story.”
He picks up his fork again and then lets out a loud sigh as he pushes his chair back from the table and grabs his plate. Uncle Huck walks out of the room in a huff and I can hear the loud clatter of the plate as he tosses it into the sink.
I chew the inside of my mouth thoughtfully. I know he’s lying to me, but why? What does he think I’d do if he told me the truth? Look at him differently? Hell, I’m still trying to see him as it is.
I drop my foot and pick up my fork, push around my meal, then sigh as I grab my plate and walk into the kitchen. He has his back to me again, hands placed firmly on the counter, his head dropped low.
“Sorry, Huck. I seem to have a knack for wearing out my welcome everywhere it seems,” I say softly as I empty the plate into the garbage can then place it gently in the sink. “If you have a phone, I can call Momma to come get me.”
“I need you to give me a minute please,” he says holding up a finger. “Go back to your room and I’ll come get you in a bit.”
Just like Momma, I think with a heavy sigh as I lower my head and retreat as I’m told to do.
Uncle Huck lied.
He didn’t come get me at all that day. In fact, he spent the next few days taking care to put distance between us. I would only really see him when I caught glimpses of him outside the window as he worked on the farm.
It’s on the third night of the next week that I decide I’ve had enough of the cold shoulder. I watched him go into the barn almost three hours ago and he hasn’t come out yet. The sun has long since gone down and I’m starting to get sick of the lonely feeling.
If I wanted to feel like a burden, I could have fought Momma tooth and nail to stay home.
I slip my feet into my slippers and decide to go and try to talk to him. I don’t know what it is about Aunt Brianna being gone that makes him so angry, but I don’t think it’s fair that he’s still taking it out on me for asking.
The night air is cool out in the country and I wrap my arms around myself as I glance up at the night sky. It’s really beautiful out here—there’s not a cloud in sight and the dark sky looks like its being lit up by the wishes of a thousand stars.
I smile slightly as I tear my eyes away from paradise above and turn my attention back to the barn that’s looming closer and closer.
Once I get just outside the door, I hesitate for a moment. If Uncle Huck is still mad at me, then maybe this isn’t the best idea. He’s not exactly reasonable from what I can tell and I don’t know if he’ll hurt me to get his point across that he wants to be left alone, but I doubt it. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that could hurt anyone—not even a fly.
“Huck?” I call out, my voice cracking as I step nervously into the barn. “You in here?”
“Yeah,” comes the curt reply.
“Can I come in?” I ask timidly.
“You already are from the sound of it.”
I bite back a sigh and walk the rest of the way into the barn. I didn’t realize how big the damn thing was from outside, and I’m not sure where he’s hiding in here.
“Where are you?” I ask curiously.
“Turn around, Maddi.”
I jump at the sound of his voice suddenly being so close then let out a sigh when I see him leaning against the door.
“How’d you do that?” I inquire suspiciously.
“I was right over there when you came in,” he says nodding at an empty horse stall near the door.
“Oh.”
I reach up and push my hair behind my ears before I place my hands on my hips and look him directly in the eyes. When he chuckles and glances away, I can’t help but wonder if he knows that I got this from Momma.
“Listen, Huck; I honestly didn’t mean to make you so mad asking about Aunt Brianna. I just thought you might want to talk about it ‘cause talking about things sometimes helps someone feel better.”
“You are your mother’s daughter,” he replies shaking his head and running a hand back through his wild hair. “Nothing I can tell you about that will make me feel better, understand? So I’d really appreciate it if you would just let it go.”
My shoulders slump and I nod dejectedly. I was just trying to help, but I guess there are somethings I’ll never be good at. I’ve never been able to make anyone feel better about anything no matter how hard I’ve tried and I wonder sometimes if maybe everyone would be better off without me.
With that thought, I glance up at the high beams above me and blink back tears. It could be so easy; I’m sure there’s a rope around here somewhere and Uncle Huck has to go to sleep eventually.
Momma won’t miss me; Hell she wanted to get rid of me for the summer and Uncle Huck? He doesn’t seem to want me around either.
“Maddi,” h
e says softly. I reach a hand up and wipe the stray tears from my face, careful not to look at him and continue studying the beams above. “Maddi,” he says in a sterner tone. “Come here.”
I clear my throat and tear my eyes away from my escape, glance over at Uncle Huck and sigh. He looks defeated and almost sad; kinda like he can tell what I’m thinking and I do my best to force a smile onto my face.
“I saw that exact same look on Abigail’s face once when we were kids. I know what’s going on in that brain of yours and I won’t have that, you understand?” he says gently, holding out a hand toward me.
I begin to cry, covering my face with my hands and Uncle Huck comes over, enveloping me in his strong arms. He kisses the top of my head gently, shushes me, and then leads me out of the barn.
Maybe tonight isn’t the time, but I’m sure it’ll be right soon.
Then no one will have to worry about Madeleine Garner being a burden in their lives anymore.
Chapter Five
We’ve been sitting on his pullout couch in the living room watching old horror movies. He told me that’s what cheers him up sometimes when he’s feeling down and I think it’s because he just doesn’t want to let me out of his sight.
“Your mother hates horror movies, did you know that?” he asks me in a cheerful tone as he holds me against him. I’m convinced his smothering me right now is to make sure I can’t wander off without him knowing my intent either.
“No,” I grumble, shifting against him. “Loosen up a little, Huck.”
He chuckles and gives just an inch of extra space as he props his feet up on the table in front of us and offers me some of the popcorn in the bucket on his lap.
I begrudgingly reach into the container because he’s damned determined to have his family time right now whether the rest of his family wants to have it or not.
I bump the bucket off his lap and when the popcorn spills all over the floor, my face turns red.
“Sorry, Huck,” I say quietly as I pull away from him and get to my knees. I place the bucket upright and begin to pick up the popcorn by hand, tossing it in and praying for the Earth to open up and swallow me.
“I’ve done that a time or two myself, Maddi,” he replies with a good-natured laugh. Uncle Huck gets to his feet and walks out of the room, leaving me to pick up the mess by hand, but returns shortly with a hand-held vacuum cleaner. “This might be a little easier, though,” he says holding it out to me.
I grab the small machine out of his hand, power it on, and pick up the rest of the mess in no time. “I’ll give the carpet a good scrub tomorrow.”
“Why?” he asks in confusion.
“To get the butter off,” I reply sheepishly.
Uncle Huck rolls his eyes as he sits back down on the couch and pats the spot next to him. I let out a loud sigh and sit back down as he slips his arm around my shoulder again and holds me in place.
“I’m not a child,” I seethe through grit teeth. “You don’t have to keep watching me.”
“I know you’re not a child, Maddi, but if you’re going to behave like one, then I’m going to treat you accordingly,” he replies cheerfully as he props his feet back onto the table. “This is how I snapped Abigail out of her bullshit too, so stop acting so hostile.”
“I liked it better when you weren’t talking to me,” I complain trying to pull away from him.
Uncle Huck glances down at me and gives my side a poke with his free hand causing me to look up at him. He actually looks happy again—the same way he did when Momma first greeted him after he opened the door for us, and I feel like a spoiled brat for giving him shit right now.
“I’m—”
“Sorry, I know,” he says, cutting me off. “You say that a lot, kid.”
I shrug and he grins, leaning down and resting his cheek on the top of my head. I never felt as small as I do when I’m this close to him and it makes me feel as safe as it does weird.
“So, Huck?” I ask as he relaxes his body against the couch.
“Hm?”
“What else did you and Momma do as kids? She never really talked about being little much—not that I ever listened if she did,” I say with a sheepish laugh.
“Nothing really,” he beings, pausing a moment to stifle a yawn with his fist, “School, chores, being the perfect son and daughter to the perfect parents, I guess.”
I pull away from him a little and narrow my eyes at him. Grandma and Grandpa were far from the perfect parents he’s claiming them to be. I remember them being bitter and mean to damn near everyone including themselves and I also remember that no one really shed a tear when they died.
“You’re lying,” I say accusingly.
Uncle Huck grunts and gives me a stern look. “Let’s not start that again, please.”
I put my hands on his side and give him a firm push away from me. It takes some doing because he’s trying to hold onto me, but I finally get out of his grip and get to my feet.
“I’m not saying that for any other reason than me remembering how miserable those two were. The last time I saw them was the same time I saw you—at my fifthth birthday party and they didn’t give me anything but the evil eye.”
Uncle Huck looks up at me and begins to chew on his lower lip thoughtfully. “I’m pretty sure that’s all they ever gave anyone, Maddi,” he finally says with an eye roll. “But I would appreciate if you stopped calling me a liar, please. I don’t like being belittled—it makes me angry.”
I arch an eyebrow curiously.
“Is that what she would do to you?” I ask him, my tone softening.
He grunts and turns his eyes back toward the television, clasping his hands behind his head, he drops his feet off the table and begins to rock one of his legs back and forth.
Just like Momma when she’s trying not to lose her shit.
“Huck,” I begin gently as I sit back down on the couch next to him. I place a hand on his leg to steady him, and take a deep breath, “tell me what happened.”
He runs a large hand over his face, takes a deep breath before turning to face me.
“Brianna’s dead.”
Chapter Six
I sit back and look at him curiously. The way he steals glances at me makes me wonder if he thinks I’m going to run away or suddenly become scared of him, but to be honest, I’m more worried about him smothering me to death watching old movies than anything else.
Besides, he hasn’t told me how she died yet. I probably shouldn’t ask, but …
“How?”
“It was an accident, Maddi,” he says softly. “I … I shot her. Honest to God, I thought she was a thief. I had some break-ins in the barn and some of my equipment had gone missing and I just ran in when I heard noise …”
His voice trails off as he leans forward and puts his face in his hands. He’s not crying—I can tell that much because his shoulders aren’t shaking and I don’t hear any sniffling.
“Why didn’t you tell someone?” I press softly as I place a hand on his back.
“Because no one would have believed me!” he all but shouts at me. His face is red, he’s damn angry now, and I shrink away from him a little bit. “I threw her to the pigs then buried what they couldn’t finish.”
I clear my throat and listen to his confession, wondering what to do with the information I have now.
I won’t turn him in because I remember Aunt Brianna being very unkind to him at my party. I never liked her really, but the way she belittled him put a sour taste in my mouth toward her at a young age and I always made it a point to keep away from her after that.
This family is so fucking screwed up.
“The nearest neighbor is about five miles away, but if you want to go there and use their phone, I’ll drive you,” he says quietly as he gets to his feet.
“Why would I want to use their phone?” I ask, wrinkling my nose in confusion.
“To turn me in, Maddi. I just confessed to a crime—the reasonable thing would be to
tell the authorities now,” he replies with a shrug as he takes a shuddering breath.
“And what would the unreasonable thing to do be?” I ask, getting to my feet and looking up into his eyes.
“Nothing.”
“Then let’s do nothing. I think that’s the better option, don’t you?” I reply with a shrug.
Uncle Huck looks at me uncertainly for a moment. It’s almost as if he’s trying to figure out if I’m lying to him, but I honestly can’t stand the thought of something happening to him. He’s much too kind to suffer any consequences for someone being cruel to him for not being as up on the take as everyone else.
“Maddi…” his voice trails off for a moment. He clears his throat and tries again, “Maddi, your Momma was good at keeping secrets for me too.”
“Really?” I ask curiously. “Like what?”
He takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders and walks past me, beckoning me to follow him.
And I do as I’m told.
I follow Uncle Huck down the hall, into his bedroom and sit on the bed like he tells me to. He walks over to his closet, ruffles around the top shelf for a bit before he comes and sits next to me with a small, square wooden box in his hand.
“Open it up,” he urges quietly as he leans forward on his legs and begins to pick at his nails. I smile slightly for a moment because that’s another nervous tick I have, but I didn’t know that he has it too.
I slide the lid off the box and place it on the bed next to me, then peer inside. There’s a bunch of old Polaroids, black side up, and as soon as I flip them over, my eyes become wide and I can feel the embarrassment settling over me almost instantly.
It’s pictures of Momma when she was about my age. Suggestive pictures of her in her bra and panties, lingerie, half-naked, and finally in bed seemingly naked staring at the camera seductively.
And then I feel a little angry and betrayed. I toss the pictures back into the box and shove it at him.
“What was the point of doing that to me? I ask him heatedly.
