Whatever He Wants

by Bridgett Henson

  “Asleep. Heard you talked with some relatives of mine.”

  Her curiosity of church returned, prompting her smile. “I did. Did you know God had a son? And a ghost?” Joni kicked a pile of oak leaves and twirled in a circle.

  James’s laugh was stiff. “I think you’re talking about the Holy Spirit. You liked church?”

  “It was interesting. And afterwards Sandra taught me a song. Well…she tried to. For some reason, I can’t play churchy music. She and the bass player asked about you.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “That we’re friends. The Street Preacher said to tell you that your running days were over and God has your number. What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. Preachers are supposed to say stuff like that. I’m sorry you had to deal with it. I’ll take you to dinner tomorrow night and make it up to you.”

  He wanted to date her? While living with Kathy? She wanted to say yes, but... “I don’t know, James. Candace said Kathy was upset. I don’t want to cause trouble.”

  “The trouble between me and Kathy has to do with Isaac. Not you.”

  Joni didn’t want to say no. “If you’re sure Kathy won’t be mad…?”

  “It’s none of her business.”

  Bending down, Joni lifted a yellow oak leaf. She twirled the stem between her thumb and forefinger, and remembered the feel of his arms. It was irrational, and she knew she probably shouldn’t, but the desire to see James overrode her common sense. “Where?”

  “My mom lives in Daphne. She can babysit Isaac. What’s your Eastern Shore address?”

  Joni giggled. “I’ll be here, at the sorority house. I met the requirements this afternoon.”

  A crackling thump scraped through her earpiece as if he’d dropped his phone. His voice hardened. “With who?”

  “With you, silly. At least that’s what they think. Trent arrived at the party and Kathy said I left with you. When I came back this afternoon, they just assumed that we…well, you know.”

  “Who’s Trent?” His voice held no emotion. She didn’t know if he was jealous or curious.

  “He’s from the affiliated fraternity.” Joni sighed into the phone. “My big brother for the next four weeks. All little sisters are on probation. Isn’t that great?”

  He answered with a grunt. “Where do I pick you up?”

  She needed to pack the rest of her things from her parents’ and bring them to the sorority house. And since Candace and Kathy were friends, maybe Candace shouldn’t know James asked her out. “Actually, I’ll be at home.” She gave him her address. “Do you know where it is?”

  “Yeah, I’ll see you at eight.”

  ~~~

  The grass needed to be cut and weeds overran the brick bottom of James’s rental in the Quail Run subdivision. His teenage neighbor promised to mow the lawn of the three-bedroom, ranch-style house for a small fee. Tommy Addison was a good kid, a hard worker. His dad had died in the oil rig explosion a few years ago and his mother struggled to pay the mortgage and support Tommy and his sister. There was only one reasonable explanation why he quit cutting the yard. Kathy didn’t pay him.

  James parked in the driveway and killed the ignition. His stomach turned. From what he could see, the backyard was worse than the front. Aluminum cans and cardboard cartons trashed the tall grass. Lawn chairs were flipped in every direction. Kathy must have thrown some party.

  “We’re home?” Isaac lifted his head and peered over the dash. “Is Momma here?”

  James hoped not but kept silent. He unbuckled his son and walked to the front door. A white piece of paper hung on the door knob. “What’s this?” James read the notice from Alabama Power silently. Services to be disconnected for nonpayment. Past due amount of $748.23 payable in money order or cashier’s check before September eleventh.

  James bit back a cuss word. He’d have to pay the bill first thing in the morning.

  Isaac tugged on his hand. “Is it from Momma? Is she coming home?”

  The hope in his son’s eyes about killed him. “No. It’s not from Kathy.” James unlocked the door. On the coffee table, flies lit on a half-eaten, moldy cheeseburger. The ashtray overflowed onto a wrapper loaded with dried ketchup and hard fries. James followed a sour smell into the kitchen. Dirty dishes covered every surface. “What does she do all day?”

  “Stays in the bedroom with Brian.” Isaac’s blunt statement wasn’t surprising.

  James knelt down in front of his son. “Who’s Brian?”

  “Momma’s friend that burnt me.”

  “Burnt you?” James forgot about the filth surrounding them and rocked back on his heels. Isaac picked up an action figure and dusted it off on his pants. Sometimes James couldn’t understand what Isaac was saying, so he’d nod and smile. This wasn’t one of those times.

  “Where, Isaac? Show Daddy where he burnt you.”

  Isaac shrugged and turned. “My back.”

  James lifted the filthy shirt. Small cigarette-shaped circles formed a triangle in the center of Isaac’s back. The hand holding the shirt clenched into a fist. The scars were deep. A vile string of words flew from his mouth as he dropped the shirt. Swallowing the bile in his throat, James covered his face with his hands. How could he have let this happen?

  “Don’t whup me.” The whispered plea ignited a desire for revenge.

  Isaac’s body was stiff, his skinny arms locked close to his sides. James spun him around by hunched shoulders. His stomach twisted into a million knots as tears flowed onto Isaac’s cheeks.

  James loosened his grip and controlled the rage surging through him. “I’ll never hit you. Daddy loves you, Isaac. I’m really…”--he forced a smile--“…really mad at Brian. He shouldn’t have done this.” When James found the coward, he’d regret ever touching his son.

  “I was bad.” Isaac’s head drooped.

  Using two fingers, James lifted the little boy’s chin. “It doesn’t matter what you did, you didn’t deserve this.” James held his smile until Isaac nodded. “Does it hurt?”

  Isaac shook his head. “Not no more.”

  “Okay, turn around and let me see again.” James slipped out his phone and snapped several pictures. His arsenal against Kathy grew. Unfortunately, it came at Isaac’s expense. “Let’s get you a bath and some clean clothes.”

  In Isaac’s bedroom, toys were strewn in every direction, but it was the cleanest room so far. The dresser held mismatched socks, two pairs of underwear, and a pair of jeans a size too small. In the laundry room, James’s jaw dropped. An empty box of laundry detergent topped a small mountain of dirty clothes. The new washer and dryer he’d bought two months ago were gone.

  Wordless, James backed into the kitchen. Stains spotted a month’s worth of mail on the counter. A receipt from Joe’s Pawn Shop lay on the top. He swore and kicked the bottom cabinet door shut. She’d pawned the washer, dryer, PC computer, and riding lawnmower.

  His breath caught. His grandfather’s hunting rifle? Surely she wouldn’t pawn something with so much sentimental value.

  He picked up Isaac, ran toward the master bedroom, and set the little boy down in the hall. Below the cracked doorframe, wood splinters lay on the floor. The brass door knob was loose and unlocked. Not the way he’d left it. His chest tight, he crossed the room and flipped the top mattress off the unmade bed. The gun was absent from its hiding place.

  James’s fist went through the sheetrock wall. He jerked his hand free and dropped onto the hard box springs. Bet it was in the same pawn shop as the appliances. Wide-eyed, Isaac trembled in the doorway. James fought for control. “Come here, Isaac. Daddy’s not mad at you.”

  Isaac crept near the bed. James lifted him on his knee. He kissed the top of Isaac’s head and then spit at the dirt on his lips. “You and me are gonna be fine. Okay?”

  “’Kay.” Isaac sniffed and hugged James tight.

  James stood and went into Kathy’s room. Maybe she moved the gun closer in case she needed it during the nig
ht.

  “Bunkie!” Isaac wiggled free and ran to a pile of clothes in the corner. He cradled the stuffed monkey with long ears. He had trouble sleeping without it.

  A huge pile of clothes sat in the corner on the floor. James crossed the room and lifted a shirt to his nose. It smelled clean. Digging through the laundry, he found Isaac three pairs of jeans, five shirts, and a pair of pajamas. A basket by the window had socks, underwear, and towels.

  In the hall, he opened the bathroom door and gagged. Dried vomit clung to the outside of the toilet. Chunks trailed across the floor, drizzled the shower curtain, smeared the mirror, and clogged the sink. He flipped on the exhaust fan and shut out the smell. One hand covered his mouth and the other held his churning stomach as he blinked away the burning in his eyes.

  Isaac clung to his leg and held his nose between two little fingers. “Eeew.”

  The bath would have to wait. Perhaps forever. No way in this world or the next could James clean that mess without puking.

  He needed a maid. Would Mrs. Addison be willing to clean the nastiness? The thought of anyone seeing this mess heated his face. James looked down. Dirt caked Isaac’s scalp.

  “Come on Isaac. Let’s wash you off in the kitchen and go see Mrs. Addison.”

  The sink was dirty but nothing like the bathroom. James pulled the empty garbage can over. “Hold it like this.” He balanced the white plastic rim against the counter.

  “Yes sir.” Isaac stuck out his tongue and closed his teeth over it as he held the can upright.

  James used the dustpan he found in the cabinet to rake everything into the opening.

  Isaac faltered. “It’s heavy.”

  James reached out and steadied the can. Gagging at the smell, he tossed in a congealed cereal bowl.

  Isaac wrinkled his nose. “Decusting.”

  “Disgusting is right.” James pulled a chair over to the sink.

  “Come help me.”

  Isaac climbed onto the chair. “Now what?”

  “Throw everything in the trash.” He considered keeping some of the cleaner dishes, but figured multiple directions would confuse Isaac. “We can buy more dishes later.”

  “’Kay, Daddy.” Isaac grinned and hefted a plate filled with green macaroni. A few noodles hit the floor.

  When the sink was empty, James grabbed a full bottle of dish soap and the washcloth he’d planned to bathe Isaac with. He scrubbed the stainless steel surface and counter top clean. “Go look in the basket of clothes in Kathy’s room and get me another rag.”

  “Yes, sir.” Isaac’s little feet pounded down the hall.

  James surveyed the kitchen. Only the counter and the sink were clean. But at least he could sponge Isaac off before begging the neighbor for help. Footsteps drummed near. Isaac skidded to a stop.

  “Ready for a bath?” James peeled the shirt off his son and tossed it in the trash.

  Wide-eyed, Isaac pointed to the sink. “In there?”

  “Yep.” The rest of Isaac’s clothes followed the shirt.

  “Cool.”

  He hefted his son into the sink. He was too big to sit, so James had Isaac stand while he hosed him down with the spray nozzle. Dirt clung to his pale skin. They needed some body wash, but James wasn’t about to open the bathroom door, let alone go in there. He picked up the dry cloth Isaac had brought from the basket. The writing on the dish soap caught his attention. “Antibacterial.” No telling how many germs were mixed in with the dirt on his son.

  Bubbles sprang up. The little boy laughed as he splashed. He caught some bubbles in his hand and blew them across the kitchen. James grinned at his son’s antics. He plugged the drain, squirted in more detergent, and turned the spray into the sink, doubling the fun. By the time Isaac was degreased, disinfected, and clean, the bottle of soap was empty. James’s wet shirt clung to his chest, and an inch of bubbly water covered the floor.

  Standing Isaac in the chair, James dried him and dressed him in clean clothes. Outside, he stopped by his truck and changed his own shirt before ringing the neighbor’s doorbell.

  When they returned from shopping hours later, five black trash bags lined the curb. Mrs. Addison had left a note in the middle of the coffee table. Isaac’s birth certificate and his social security card slid out from under the slip of paper.

  James, we boxed Kathy’s things like you asked but I thought you might want to keep these. Just call, if you need more help.

  He smiled at the legal documents. The last time he was home, he’d searched everywhere. Without them, he couldn’t petition for paternity rights. He wished he’d paid Mrs. Addison two hundred instead of the one she requested.

  “Daddy, I gotta pee.”

  James eased the bathroom door open. The smell of bleach stung his eyes, but the white tub and floor sparkled. Clear blue water filled the toilet. “Leave the door open. I don’t want you inhaling fumes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ray walked in through the front door and sat a twelve-pack of longnecks and a pizza box on the coffee table. “I need a place to crash until our next construction job. Deana wasn’t kidding last week when she said she’d found my replacement.”

  James saw the hurt beneath his friend’s goofy grin. “I had Kathy’s room cleaned. You’re welcome to it.” He rescued the papers under the box.

  “Uncle Ray.” Isaac zoomed up the hall. Ray tossed him over his shoulder and flipped the little body across his arm. “Gotcha.”

  Isaac giggled and squirmed until Ray set him on his feet.

  “Ooh Pizza! Is that for me?”

  “Sure is.”

  When James returned from taking the documents to his room, Isaac had sauce on his chin and his little hands grabbed for another slice. Ray handed James a beer.

  “What about Isaac? Did you get him anything to drink?”

  Ray grimaced. “Forgot. I can go back to the store. What do you want, buddy? A coke? Or one of them juice things?”

  Isaac shrugged and grabbed an opened beer. “Momma pours it in a cup.”

  “What?” James snatched it before his son could drink.

  “Makes me sleepy, but I like chocolate the most.”

  Innocent blue eyes blinked. James imagined the satisfaction of strangling Kathy. One. Inhale. Two. Exhale. He counted breaths as Ray took the remaining bottles into the kitchen.

  He returned with a Kool-Aid box. “Look what I found in the fridge.” Ray stabbed the straw through the small hole and slammed the carton in front of Isaac. “No beer for little boys.”

  Later that night, Ray went out to a nearby bar, and James booted his laptop while Isaac lay on the floor watching cartoons. Joni had sent him a friend request. He accepted and went to her wall. Jade eyes sparkled from her page. He reached for his bottle and knocked his cell off the table. It landed with a thud.

  “Whatcha doing, Daddy?” Isaac crawled over and peered at the screen. “She’s hot.”

  James laughed. “You’ve been spending too much time with Uncle Ray.”

  Isaac scooted near. “Her eyes smile. Why you looking at her?”

  “She’s my friend.” The green chat button lit up by her name. He patted his knee. “Climb up here and Daddy will show you how to talk on the computer.”

  Isaac climbed onto his lap. James pointed at the chat box. “Here’s where I type the words I want to say.” Isaac thinks you’re pretty. “I told her you said hi.”

  Her reply was quick. You showed him my picture? Lol. Hold on.

  As James swigged from the bottle, Isaac touched the screen. “Can she be our girlfriend?”

  If only. He ruffled the silky blond hair. “How old are you?”

  Isaac held up four fingers and giggled.

  “And you want a girlfriend?”

  Little blue eyes blinked, and then he nodded. “I want her.”

  In the past months, girls became friendlier whenever Isaac was around. Hungry for a mother’s love, he thrived in their attention, but James sensed this was different. “Yeah,
me too.”

  “Ask her to be our girlfriend, Daddy.”

  Joni sent him another message. Looking at your photos now. He’s sooooo cute.

  Isaac touched the screen. “She say yes?”

  “Yep.” What could it hurt to let Isaac pretend? If he wanted to claim Joni as his girlfriend, that was fine with James.

  Isaac tilted his head. “Can she live in Momma’s room? With Uncle Ray?”

  “No.” He asks too many questions. James softened his tone after he sent his reply. “Go finish your cartoon.”

  Isaac pouted his way back to the carpet but focused on the animated movie.

  Little boys are supposed to.

  How did she know? In her drunken chatter, she admitted she was an only child. He leaned up and reached for his phone. She answered on the second ring. “Hey, beautiful.”

  Joni’s laughter made him smile. “Sorry, I can’t talk now. I’m chatting with someone.”

  “Oh, yeah? With who? Someone special?” James logged off and shut down the computer.

  “I can’t say.”

  “Why not?” He propped his feet on the coffee table and drained his beer.

  “We just met and I don’t know how he feels.”

  James set the empty bottle on the side table. “He thinks you’re pretty special.”

  Joni giggled. “Oh really?”

  “Yes. And he can’t wait to see you aga—”

  The front door slammed. Kathy crossed her arms over her chest. She was either sober or bumped with meth.

  “James?” Joni waited.

  He lowered his feet to the floor and stood. He glared at Kathy, but hid his anger as he spoke into the phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, beautiful.”

  At his words Kathy lifted a black eyebrow.

  Joni’s sweet voice floated through the phone. “Goodnight, James.”

  “Goodnight, Joni.” James ended the call and frowned at Kathy. “Is your boyfriend Brian with you?”

  She smirked. “Jealous?”

  The scars on Isaac’s back flashed through his mind. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “Momma!” Isaac leapt off the floor and wrapped his little arms around her waist. She patted the top of Isaac’s head. Why couldn’t she pick him up and hug him like a real mother?

  “Are you gonna stay here? Please. Joni can’t. You hafta sleep in my room ‘cause Uncle Ray moved in yours.”

  Kathy’s eyes narrowed on James. “You asked Little-Miss-Perfect to move in?”