I pull my backpack off my shoulder, unzip the top, and start piling my books on the table. Hayden grabs for anything dealing with English class, while Hayley goes straight for my Government textbook. She likes the pictures.
“Wynn Erastus Gillette,” Penny pulls out her momma voice. I think all female creatures are born with one. I heard Hayley wielding it on her brother this very morning. “You got that look– that look your brother always gets when–”
I cut Penny off by babbling nervously. “Well, Warren’s my brother. Can’t be helped that we look alike. Our little man looks like War too. I don’t hear you complaining about our looks, especially since your kids are probably gonna take after us.”
“You know what I mean.” Penny employs the narrowed stare along with her momma voice. “It’s the same look that Warren gets on his face before he starts chasing after me because he’s hungry.”
“Maybe War just wanted some of your gray food. We should freeze some for when he comes home.”
Penny growls like a pissed off kitten. “I did hear you and Jack talking on the porch last night. So I’m a bit confused. I wanna know who’s riling you up so much that you’re getting all moony-eyed.”
“What do you think about this Supreme Court Justice?” I ask Hayley as I turn to today’s assignment. “He looks pretty old, doesn’t he?”
“He looks smart,” flows from Hayley’s mouth as she runs a fingertip along the lines of the image. “Judges make the rules, right?”
“Nope. The Legislative Branch makes the rules. The Judicial Branch enforces them.”
“I thought old people’s minds got feeble,” Hayden butts in.
“Wisdom, nephew. We call that wisdom. Feeble is when you don’t work your mind or body, so it gets weak. Just like arm muscles.” I flex my biceps, popping the muscles out. “If I stop working, they will shrink. If you stop using your mind, it does the same thing. Except with disease– that can’t be helped none.”
“I want to grow up to be wise,” Hayden announces as he tugs my textbook closer in front of him. “I like the looks of this man. He does look smart.”
“Are girls allowed to make the rules?” Hayley tries to yank the textbook away from her brother, but he’s not having it. Hayley hops her chair closer to him, so she can see the book better. “I wanna make the rules. Hayden can enforce ‘em. But I wanna be in charge.”
The twins and I continue on this path as I do my homework, with Penny in the background slamming pots and pans. “Are men born with the ability to shut their ears to a woman?”
That warm feeling in my heart is radiating with the force of the Sun. I start chuckling. “Yeah, it’s our only defense against a woman’s momma voice.”
“Shush now, and eat your… plate of gray.” Penny sets our plates on the table, and then nudges my books to the side. “I’m sure it’s tasty.”
I swallow thickly as I stare down at the viscous mass glued to my plate. “Do we have any pepper?”
Penny growls, “No,” while never taking her eyes off of me.
“Kids, did you know kings and queens employ royal food testers to see if they’ve been poisoned?” I stick my fork into the funky-textured food. “We might be getting a dog… and some pepper.” I choke down a bite, holding back a shudder as my taste buds revolt.
Everyone digs in after I swallow.
I down half a glass of water, trying to flush away how it coats my tongue. It’s surprisingly tasteless. I’m not sure how Penny accomplished that feat.
“Royce has been in contact with Warren,” Penny begins, and I forget all about eating. “I guess he found ‘em an hour or so after you called him Friday night. He told me at breakfast on Saturday, but I wasn’t to tell you until now. He feared you’d be upset and not settle in well.”
“Explain,” I say calmly because I’m afraid I will bark out the order instead.
“Willa…” Penny looks at the kids to make sure they don’t understand. “Was in bad shape, Wynn. Warren confided in me about it every day. That, and he was always worried about you. Rightfully so. He took off thinking a change of scenery would help, but Royce caught up with ‘em and managed to make it back before you showed up at his front door the next morning.”
I set my fork down, food long forgotten. “I don’t understand.”
“Warren took Willa to a…” Penny glances at the kids again, and my heart starts beating into hyper-drive. “To a facility. He used the fact that he was the eldest brother, saying she wasn’t able to think for herself. Royce paid for it, of course. Warren’s staying in the facility’s family housing while Willa gets better– something to do with family sessions with the doctor, and how Willa won’t say what’s ailing her. It’s gonna be a long while before they come back.”
“How long?” I still, terrified of the answer.
“Around three months, I suspect. It’s what Warren was hoping to do once you got a good job. He didn’t want to tax anyone that wasn’t family on Willa’s account. But Royce is very persuasive, saying the longer we waited, the worse it would get.”
“Drugs? Like rehab?” I snort, thinking of my daddy and momma. “I’ve never drank a drop, puffed a smoke, or taken a hit, knowing I’d be hooked from the get-go.”
“Partly drugs.” Penny takes a deep breath, then turns to the side to hide her face from me. She pats her eyes dry with a paper towel. “Mostly mental, though.”
“Jesus H. Christ!” I hop to my feet. “I’m sorry. I… I… I need to take a walk and think. I’ll be back.” I kiss a set of brown curls and a copper, and then stride out the door.
Willa’s Rocking Chair
“Royce!” I holler the instant my feet touch his front yard. “They’re my family. How dare you keep this from me?”
Raising from his crouch at the side yard garden, “Well, hold up now,” Royce mutters calmly, hands raised out in front of him. “We’ll get this settled, but it has to be civilized. I don’t know what you’re going on about.”
I stand over the man I’ve come to respect over the past few years with my hands curling into fists and tears threatening to fall. “They’re my family, and I’m a grown man. It’s none of your concern. It should be me taking care of ‘em.”
“Now, you listen here, Wynn Gillette, and you listen good.” Royce rises to his full height, still inches shorter than me. What he lacks in height, he makes up in bulk. Royce feels huge and commanding, even when I’m looking down at him.
Meaty palms land directly in the center of my chest, push hard, and then I find myself flat on my ass, staring up at Royce. “That’s better.” Apparently he didn’t like looking up at me while we talk.
“You’re a goddamned kid. Ten years from now, I’ll still see you as a kid. You and Bren are only a few weeks apart in age. Do you honestly think I’m going to allow you to deal with adult bullshit while you’re still a junior in high school?”
My eyes slip shut as my heart breaks. “You don’t think I can do it?”
“Knock that pride horseshit off, Wynn.” Royce kneels beside me, still hovering over me. “It has nothing to do with whether or not you can do it. It’s that I think you shouldn’t have to. Someone should be looking out for you for once. I see you as my son, and I’m going to treat you that way. I want to show you how the world works, teach you to handle it, and then watch you try to deal with it on your own. No matter what, I’m gonna be behind you, waiting to hold you up should you fall.”
“You’re too good of a person.” I glance away, feeling there are people out there that need Royce’s help more. “I don’t deserve it.”
“You might not be my son by blood. But, by George, you sure do act just like me.” Royce reaches out to help me sit up. “Warren told me what you did to yourself on Friday night. Which is why someone your age shouldn’t have to deal with this shit.”
Wincing, I look away from him. “I’m sick about it. Sick down to my marrow.”
“Everything is going to be okay as long as you let the adults take care
of the heavy lifting. When you’re my age, you can take over so I can retire.” Royce settles down next to me until we’re both sitting cross-legged in the yard.
Deflated and exhausted, “The garden looks good,” I mutter lamely.
“Don’t change the subject, boy.” Royce chastises me, but he’s grinning from ear to ear as he looks at his large vegetable garden. “Whether by blood or marriage, you and I are kin. We share Hayley and Hayden, and they need both of us. My son doesn’t have a momma or siblings. He’s lonely. Bren won’t tell you this, but he’s always been keen on you as his brother. He’s nuts about those kids.”
I accuse my boss of manipulating me. “Are you trying to make me emotional?”
“No, I’m explaining why I’ve done what I’ve done.” Royce breathes deeply, and then looks down at his fingers. He starts playing with a blade of grass, as if he’s scared I’ll rebuff him somehow.
“What happened to Willa is unforgivable. First off, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but you ought to know. Your daddy sold Willa to my brother for a few thousand dollars. Donny wanted a wife; he bought a bride. I tried to stop it, and I’ll never forgive myself because of it.”
My breathing picks up until I’m panting. I clench my teeth along with my fists. I’ve never felt this violent surge of pure hatred before. It’s like if I don’t harm something, my skin will burst like overripe fruit. I feel rotten, inside and out.
“It is what it is, Wynn. Your daddy is an asshole. If he was educated, or rich, sober, or had a good job, he’d still be a goddamned asshole. It’s just who he is.” Royce grips my shoulder, rhythmically trying to calm me. “Bad thing is, though, poverty, ignorance, and addiction changes an asshole into a despicable creature who in all rights should be put down. Just like my brother and his rapist buddy. It’s an epidemic in a way. Bitter negativity feeding on itself like cannibals until no one is safe.”
“I hated Daddy so much I tried to kill myself. I hated him because he fucked me up to the point that I didn’t think I could leave him and keep the guilt from eating me alive. But I loved the kids more than I feared my conscience.”
“That’s what Warren was hoping, Wynn. Ya know, leaving was more loyal than staying.”
“I get that now. That’s why I feel sick about what I almost did.”
“A man needs an education, and I don’t mean college. He needs to learn a trade, get a job, and provide for a family. I don’t mean a nuclear family, either– a family could just be yourself and your friends. It’s giving back what you take from this world. It’s ingrained in our DNA. We have to have a reason to live. Goals, or whatnot. We have to see those goals realized. If a man sits around doing nothing but being negative, and he doesn’t have the brains in his head to figure out how to fix his problems instead of drowning in them, then he’s going to be a hate-filled sonofabitch who is toxic to all those he touches.”
“Momma?”
“Your momma, too. Wynn, she ain’t no good either. There’s being abused, and then there is being a victim. She sat around and let you kids be abused, then she auctioned your sister off to the highest bidder. Your momma did that, not your daddy.”
“That night will haunt me for the rest of my life– Willa’s screams.”
“Yeah… Well, I’m sorry you had to see that.” Royce’s eyes glaze over and his face pales. “I have a nightmare about your sister I revisit myself every time I close my eyes.”
“I miss Willa.” My lips quirk up at the corners. “I ain’t seen the girl she was since I was a little fella. Penny reminds me of who Willa used to be. It’s why Warren took a shine to her, I suspect.”
“Willa’s still a baby, Wynn. She’s only twenty-two years old. She’s got a lot of living ahead of her, and I’m gonna force her to live it.” Royce pauses, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “When she comes back from treatment, she’s moving in here.”
Shocked, “What?” tumbles past my numb lips.
“So are the kids, and so are you,” Royce stresses.
“I don’t see why I have to move in here,” I argue, feeling flustered, betrayed, stifled, and a billion other emotions I can’t name. I move to stand up, but Royce reaches over and shoves my ass back to the ground.
“Hayley and Hayden need a constant in their lives. You’ve been that for the past four of their six years. Willa will need as much support as possible, and she won’t stay here without you.”
I roll Royce’s words around in my mind, deciding whether or not that is true. Willa is very anxious. If you move too fast, she flinches and curls into herself. If anyone needs something familiar, it’s my sister. I just never thought I’d be the one who provides her with that comfort.
“After you finish up college, and get the career you want, you can move wherever the heck you want. Until then, you need a real dad just as much as the twins, and I’m gonna be that for you. We could have a real family without assholes, addiction, and negativity.”
“Royce–”
“You don’t get a vote, son, because you’re still a kid.” Royce squeezes my shoulder. Hard. “Same as Bren is still a kid. Hell, you’re parenting Penny, and she’s almost a year older than you.”
“Penny needs someone to keep an eye on her. She’s a menace,” I mutter with affection.
“Which is why you’re not living here just yet. You’re showing the girl how life should be. When the time comes, Warren and Penny will be staying in the house you’re living in now. After I give them the tools to do it, they’re gonna carve out a life for themselves. They both gotta have jobs, and goals, and a reason to live, so that their babies will have a bright future with happy parents.”
“You’re too good,” I repeat.
“I ain’t, not really.” Royce shifts in the grass as if he’s uncomfortable. “I might have ulterior motives.”
“Oh, yeah?” I challenge Royce to answer me for some reason, even knowing he doesn’t want to. “What are they?”
“I’m lonely, too,” he admits brusquely, and then clears his throat. “I want my son to have a big family– the family I couldn’t give him with his momma –but I want it for me more. I’ve spent a lot of lonely nights with a lot of blood money. Money is no replacement for the living, breathing person who made my heart beat. I only feel better when I improve the situations of the people of Rusty Knob who deserve so much more.”
“I actually understand that.” I smile even though I feel as sad as I do happy. “Doing good makes me feel warm. Doing bad makes me feel sick. Doing nothing makes me feel dead inside. The rest of the time, I just feel alone in this world.”
“See? You and I are a lot alike, son.” Royce wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls until my cheek rests on his broad chest. “Now, you’re gonna stop stomping down sidewalks, being angry about shit you don’t understand. You’re going to do your homework, go to school, show Penny how to behave, and keep an eye on our niece and nephew. Then, when you’ve got a spare minute, you’re gonna refinish Willa’s rocking chair.”
“Christ,” I croak, and then I burst out crying. Body quaking with violent sobs, my fingers twist in the fabric covering his chest. Like a dad should, Royce holds me together while I threaten to shatter apart.
Mentor KM lives in Rusty Knob!
I don’t know, maybe a part of growing up is dealing with the fact that everything is fleeting. They say home is where the heart is, but they aren’t speaking of a physical sense of home. That home is the warmth I feel. But to those who live in poverty, home is a physical place, and we know there are never any guarantees you’ll keep it.
While I was in Gillette Holler, it felt as if I owned it. It was my daddy’s land, his home, his bills, and his mess. Yet I felt a proprietary claim, even though I was just a kid.
Here, in Royce’s rental house, I feel out of place, like I didn’t earn it. In a way, though, it’s no different. Royce is just a better version of the father I always longed to have. Yet I feel guilt over sleeping in these four walls covered with
a stable roof while eating food someone else gave me.
My daddy saw me as an obligation– another mouth to feed until I was old enough to feed myself, and feed him while I was at it. To Royce, I’m not an obligation but a gift. He wants to feed and house me to make me strong. He’s not doing it so I can take care of him in the future, but so I can take care of myself and those who need me.
My daddy taught me I could be the king of Gillette Holler once he was gone. But he was going to be belligerent and jealous until then, tainting how I’d see my future sons as competition. Royce is teaching me I can be anything I want to be, and he’ll want nothing in return but my respect.
One view is a narrow slice of life. The other is so wide, it’s humbling.
Knowing this, as I lie on the cot I bought with my own money, listening to the fan I also bought with my own money, while in another man’s house, I promise to be patient.
I’m seventeen years old. I am still a kid. I’m not allowed to have legal custody of my niece and nephew. They would have been taken away from me sooner rather than later if I hadn’t left Gillette Holler with them. Social services won’t step foot into the hollers, but they can take the kids from the elementary school with ease. Kaden wasn’t trying to insult me last Friday night. He was warning me that they were coming for the kids, and he was disappointed I wasn’t doing a dang thing about it.
I know how it goes. I was removed from my parents’ care on three occasions. Once because a teacher got into trouble for washing my hair in the drinking fountain on picture day. Mrs. Elroy meant well, but the school board caught wind. In the end, Mrs. Elroy was suspended for a semester, and Warren, Willa, and I were taken from my parents for a few hours, and then delivered back into hell.
Times changes, laws get more stringent, families corrode, and the twins wouldn’t have been returned to Gillette Holler.
I know Royce is humoring me with the kids, knowing Warren is his only opposition. We all have the same tie to the twins– uncle. I’m powerless right now. I’m not even old enough to own property, or vote, or get married.
Rusty Knob Page 12
