Family Thang Read online

  “You bastard!” Leonard said. “You know Mother didn’t do it.”

  “Who did, little brother?” Robert Earl shot back. “Who you think killed Daddy, little brother? Huh? Who? Let me tell you what I know. I know a certain gay, college-educated family member told Daddy to take the scenic route to hell. Daddy started choking and puking, chunking his guts on everybody. Next thing I know, Daddy deader than a doorknob.”

  Leonard lunged at Robert Earl and seized him by the throat, sending them both crashing to the floor. “I’ll kill you!” Leonard shouted. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”

  Sheriff Bledsoe grabbed Leonard around the waist and pulled… Leonard held on. Large veins appeared on Robert Earl’s forehead and his eyes rolled back. “Heh… heh… heh… heh… help!”

  “Let him go!” Sheriff Bledsoe shouted. “I said let him go!” Ruth Ann came over and tried to push Leonard off but couldn’t. Robert Earl started gagging, saliva bubbling out of his mouth. “You heard me, I said let him go!” He released Leonard, pulled out his .357 Magnum, pointed it toward the ceiling and fired. Plaster rained down. “Let him go, or the next one will be in you!”

  Leonard immediately let go and stood up, looking rather embarrassed.

  The gunfire awoke Shirley. She rose up, looked over at Sheriff Bledsoe, gun in hand, standing over a prostate Robert Earl, and lay back down.

  The pain in Sheriff Bledsoe’s right side returned to the center of his stomach; it felt like a vice compressing his innards. “I want all y’all the hell outta here!” he shouted. “Now!”

  Robert Earl, massaging his neck, staggered standing up. “He tried to kill me!”

  “Out!” Sheriff Bledsoe shouted.

  “What about our momma?” Ruth Ann asked.

  “Everybody out! Take the one inside the cell with you!”

  Ruth Ann took Ida by the hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come on, Momma, let’s go.” To Leonard: “Get Shirley! Tell her to come over to momma’s.”

  Leonard helped Shirley, looking dazed, to her feet and hurried her out the door.

  In the parking lot, Ruth Ann and Ida got into Ruth Ann’s Ford Expedition. Leonard got into the Lumina; Shirley into Darlene’s Pinto.

  Robert Earl stumbled up to the Expedition. “Momma,” rubbing his neck, “Leonard choked me. He tried to kill me, Momma.”

  “Save it for later, Robert Earl,” Ruth Ann said. “We’re all going over to momma’s. We’ll talk about it there.”

  “Will Leonard be there?”

  “Yes, Robert Earl. Now go get in your truck and let’s go.”

  Sheriff Bledsoe watched from the doorway, kneading his stomach. “Fat ass,” he said to himself. Shirley was no lightweight by any standard and she had the nerve to call him fat ass. Ha!

  He watched the two cars and one truck pull away and then fade in the distance down Main Street. He went inside, found a phone book and flipped the pages to gastroenterology.

  Chapter 8

  “I want my car,” Ida said. They were a mile away from the jail.

  “We’ll get it later,” Ruth Ann said. “Right now we’re going home to sort this thing out.”

  “There’s nothing to sort out. Don’t talk to me like I’m your child. Better yet, don’t say anything to me at all!” She crossed her arms and stared out the window, giving Ruth Ann her back.

  Ruth Ann sighed, knowing it was futile talking to her mother in a foul mood. Yet she desperately wanted to ask did she murder Daddy. And if so, why? The money?

  She cut an eye toward Ida. She looked more fragile, smaller, since Daddy’s death.

  No, her mother would not have killed her husband for money. The whole thing just didn’t make any sense.

  “Momma, I hate to ask you this. I need to—”

  “Then don’t!” Ida snapped.

  “Are you upset with me, Momma? I’m only trying to help. I know he was your husband, he was also my daddy. Did you do it, Momma? Tell me—I won’t tell anyone. Promise. I just need to know.”

  Ida turned and looked at her for a beat. She snorted and returned her attention to the window. “You know,” she said, addressing the passing trees, “you can raise a child the best you know how, live in a respectable manner, teach right and wrong, go to church every now and again…” She shook her head. “Then you realize you’ve raised a monster. A monster.”

  “What do you mean? Are you talking about anyone in particular? Me?”

  “Did I mention anyone by name?”

  “No, you didn’t, Momma. Only you and I are here, I’m inclined to believe you’re talking about me.”

  “Ruth Ann, you’re inclined to believe whatever the hell you wanna believe.”

  Ruth Ann almost said something mean. Take her home and be done with her. Next time her mother needed something, anything, then she’d better not call her. Call one of her children who isn’t a monster. Let one of them take her shopping, let one of them drive her to Little Rock when she needed to see the doctor, let one of them loan her money.

  She made a quick right onto her mother’s street and sped up. After whipping into the driveway and coming to a body-lurching stop, she said, “Here ya go. Home sweet home.” As Ida fumbled with the door handle, Ruth Ann put the stick into reverse.

  “Can you at least wait till I get out the damn car!”

  Gun it, Ruth Ann thought. Gun it and watch Granny break dance on the concrete.

  She was easing her foot off the brake pedal when she heard a door slam behind her, and then Leonard appeared at Ida’s side, helping her out the car.

  “Come on, Mother,” he said. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

  Now Ida found it extremely difficult moving a foot. “My dear Leonard,” she said, “I could always depend on you.”

  Ruth Ann wanted to scream. “Any damn day,” she mumbled.

  “What was that, Ruth Ann?” Leonard asked. She didn’t respond. “Aren’t you coming in?”

  “No, Leonard. Wal-Mart is having a sale on monster food, hate to miss it.”

  Shirley walked up to the car. “How’s Momma doing? Is she all right?”

  “She’s going to be fine,” Leonard said.

  “You think we should call a doctor?” Shirley asked.

  “Doctor Frankenstein,” Ruth Ann said.

  Leonard and Ida, arms around each other, walked toward the house. “Leonard,” Ida said when they were at the door, “I know you had nothing to do with it.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  Ruth Ann and Shirley exchanged puzzled glances. “Shirley,” Ruth Ann said, “could you back up and let me out.”

  “Aren’t you coming in?”

  “No. Momma’s in a I-only-care-for-my-son mood.”

  “Come on, Ruth Ann. She’s having a hard time. We need to show her our support. She’s so upset she’s confessing to a murder she didn’t commit. You know she didn’t kill Daddy.”

  “Where’s Robert Earl?”

  “He kept going. Come on.”

  Ruth Ann reluctantly stepped out and followed Shirley to the one-story, four-bedroom, red brick house. The black barrel her daddy had converted to a barbecue grill lay on its side in the front yard, a heap of ash spilling out from it.

  Ruth Ann wondered why no one had picked it up and put it in the shed. Her daddy’s late-model Ford truck was parked in the open bay garage. It was dusty. If her daddy were alive, you would not have found a speck of dust on it.

  Ruth Ann struggled with the grill. “Shirley, help me with this.” Shirley joined her and they uprighted the grill. “Where’s Shane?” Ruth Ann said, rolling the grill to the side of the house. “He should be seeing to things around here.” She slapped the dust off her hands.

  Shirley held the front door open. “Come on, Ruth Ann. Don’t worry about that now.”

  Inside, Leonard was sitting in her daddy’s favorite chair, reading a newspaper, feet propped up on the table, as if he’d assumed the role of man of the house.

  “Where’s Momma
?” Ruth Ann asked him.

  “In the kitchen.”

  “In the kitchen? Doing what?”

  “Cooking.”

  “Cooking!” Ruth Ann and Shirley exclaimed. Shirley started for the kitchen.

  Leonard put the paper down. “Leave her be, Shirley. Mother is under a lot of stress right now. If cooking takes her mind off her troubles, then let her cook.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Shirley said. “What’s she cooking?”

  “I don’t know. Whatever it is I’m going to eat it.” He motioned Shirley to come closer. Whispering: “You, too, Ruth Ann.”

  He grabbed the remote and clicked up the volume on the television. “Don’t you see what’s happening?” he asked, looking from Shirley to Ruth Ann. They shook their heads. “Mother thinks one of us killed Daddy, and she’s blaming herself. Imagine the anguish she’s experiencing now.”

  “She told you this?” Ruth Ann asked.

  “No, she did not. It’s the only thing makes sense. We know she didn’t do it.”

  “You really think she believes one of us did it?” Shirley said.

  “Correction,” Ruth Ann said. “She thinks one of us among you, Robert Earl and me did it. She exonerated Leonard outside, remember?”

  “Well, yes,” Leonard said. “Mother knows I didn’t arrive in time to plot and execute a murder. Whoever did it was already here.”

  “You can tell her to scratch my name off her list,” Ruth Ann said. “I didn’t do it.”

  Leonard said, “She doesn’t know exactly who did it, but she suspects one of her children. You can’t blame her for thinking that. Who else other than a family member stood to gain from Daddy’s death? Mother is suffering now.”

  Ruth Ann snorted. “Hello! She’s not the only one suffering. I’m suffering, too, but I’m not pointing a finger at anyone.”

  “Leonard,” Ida called from the kitchen.

  “Yes, Mother,” Leonard replied in a tone that rubbed Ruth Ann’s nerves.

  “Would you like an apple pie?”

  “Oh, Mother, apple pie would be delightful.”

  “This is outrageous,” Ruth Ann said. “She’s totally forgotten she has three other children. What’s she going to do when you go back to Chicago, Leonard? By the way, when are you going back?”

  Leonard crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair. “Ruth Ann, am I detecting a tinge of jealousy?”

  “Yes!”

  “If she gives me a slice of pie, I’m fine,” Shirley said.

  “For your information, Ruth Ann,” Leonard said, “I’ve decided to stay here until Mother comes to terms with what happened.”

  “That might take years,” Ruth Ann said.

  “I doubt it. I’m in for the duration. It’s the least I can do.”

  “What about your job?” Ruth Ann said. “And whatshisface?”

  “His name is Victor Fields, and our relationship and my job are secure.”

  “Leonard, the possibility the money will be split four ways instead of five if one of the family committed the murder didn’t weigh on your hasty decision to stay, did it?”

  “Please! My mother’s welfare is my only concern.”

  “We’re her children, too,” Ruth Ann said. “Believe it or not, Leonard, we love her just as much as you do. We—Shirley, Robert Earl and I—stayed here when you ran off to Chicago. It’s not fair she exclude us.”

  “Exclude you from what, Ruth Ann? Other than the barbecue, when was the last time you visited Mother?” He waited for a reply. None came. “Mother needs a little down time. Why don’t you and Shirley come back later, after she has rested?”

  “Negro, please!” Ruth Ann said, fed up with this conversation. Leonard said something, but she ignored him and walked into the kitchen.

  Ida stood next to the sink, beating batter in a bowl with a wooden spoon. A boiling pot covered every eye on the stove. The smell of baked fish drifted from the oven. Sarah Vaughn’s voice emanated from a transistor radio on the refrigerator.

  “Momma, can I give you a hand?”

  Ida did an about face, giving Ruth Ann her back again. The rhythmic thump thump thump thump from the bowl grew louder.

  “Momma, if you need something, or if you need me to do anything, then call me. You know my number, don’t you?” Of course she knew the number… thump thump thump thump thump… “I guess I’ll be going now, Momma. Call me.” …thump thump thump thump thump…

  Ruth Ann turned on her high heels and headed for the front door. “I’m outta here,” she said. “Shirley, please move your car!” The screen door slammed before Shirley could respond.

  “Ruth Ann, hold up,” Shirley said, catching up with her. “What’s the matter?”

  Ruth Ann turned, started to speak… couldn’t.

  Shirley embraced her. “It’ll pass, honey,” holding her tight, rubbing her back. “It’ll pass. She’s upset. We’re all upset. I miss Daddy, and I know you do, too.”

  Ruth Ann had wanted to rid herself of her family, to get as far away from them as possible… Shirley had caught her off guard. She buried her face between Shirley’s large breasts.

  “She ignored me!” Ruth Ann blurted, and started crying. “Sh-sh-she acted like I wasn’t even there.”

  Shirley kissed her forehead. “It’s okay, Ruth Ann. It’s okay.” Shirley wiped away Ruth Ann’s tears with her hand, and brought her face close to hers. Looking her straight in the eye, she said, “Ruth Ann, remember this. Whatever happens, no matter what, we’re family.” Bringing her face even closer, their noses almost touching: “I’ll always love you, Ruth Ann. Always.”

  Ruth Ann looked away, unable to maintain eye contact. “Thanks, Shirley.” She stepped back. “I better go. Lester is probably hungry.”

  “He can’t cook for himself?”

  Ruth Ann laughed. “Lester has trouble dialing Dominos. Men, what are they good for?”

  “You got that right. I can’t begin to tell you the trouble Eric and I are having.”

  Ruth Ann’s shoulder jerked, as if someone had sneaked up and grabbed her. What have I done?

  Eric, his name throbbed in her head like a toothache. Why had she betrayed her baby sister? Her only sister. Shirley, sweet Shirley. Fat, loveable, sensitive, puppy-dog eyes, give-you-the-shirt-off-her-back Shirley.

  What have I done?

  “What?” Shirley said. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I love you, Shirley, I really do. I might not act like I do, but I do. It might not seem like I do… I do! Really. Cross my heart, hope to die. Honest!” Aware she was groveling, but couldn’t stop. “I really do. Always! Till I die. No matter what happens, or what somebody says, remember I love you. No man could come between… I mean, even if a man did come between us, it wouldn’t mean anything. Wouldn’t mean a damn thing!”

  “Ruth Ann, relax. I know. Trust me, I know.”

  “Huh?” Ruth Ann gasped, heart skipping beats. “You know?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Ruth Ann started to kneel, but they were standing on concrete and she was wearing a dress. “Please forgive me, Shirley. I didn’t mean for it to go as far as it did. You gotta believe me!”

  Shirley gave her an odd look. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Ruth Ann backed up to the Expedition and leaned on it for support. Woozy and nauseous. She’d almost stepped out on a greased limb. “Lester! I was talking about Lester, Shirley. I let our relationship go too far.”

  “Ruth Ann, you’re married to the man.”

  “Yes, you’re right. I better get back to him.” She hopped into the Expedition and started looking for the keys.

  “In the ignition,” Shirley said.

  “Oh, yeah. See ya, Shirley. I love you!” She started the engine.

  “Wait a minute! Let me move Darlene’s car out the…” Before she could finish, Ruth Ann drove across the lawn and then sped off down the street, in the wrong direction from her house.

  Chapter 9r />
  Robert Earl lay on the couch, a damp towel wrapped around his neck. He’d come home an hour ago, hurting, his ego more bruised than his neck. His weirdo baby brother had actually gotten the better of him, an ex Marine, a real man.

  A minute there, on the floor with Leonard’s thumbs pressing his goiter deeper than it was designed to go, he thought it was over. A few seconds more and he would have lost consciousness. Choked to death by a fag! The thought made his neck hurt even more.

  Leonard couldn’t confront him man-to-man. No, he had to dive in the air, catch him off guard. If he’d been expecting the move, he would have caught Leonard midair, whirled him around a couple of times, lifted him overhead and body-slammed him.

  He adjusted the towel around his neck, a wicked smile under his bushy moustache, the imagined sound of Leonard’s body bouncing on the jail floor echoing in his head.

  And where’s Estafay? When he needed her she was nowhere to be found. His neck needed a massage.

  As his daddy used to say, “A woman ain’t good…” He couldn’t complete the thought. His daddy never liked Estafay, and hadn’t mind saying so, even to Robert Earl’s face. No one had a better reason than he to kill the rotten, tightwad so-and-so. His daddy had never given Estafay a chance, not once.

  An ugly memory played in his mind. He shook his head, trying to recall something more pleasant, but the memory continued...

  Honorably discharged from the Marine Corps, he’d returned home with his bride of two weeks, Estafay. His family was sitting on the front porch when he and she got out of the cab.

  He strutted up to the porch in his dress blues, Estafay a couple of steps behind, his chest puffed up, head held high, arms swinging six inches to the front and three to the rear, as they’d taught him in boot camp.

  He could not have asked for a better day, early April, a light breeze, the afternoon sun hitting his bronze buttons and patent leather shoes just right.

  He stopped a few feet short of the porch and said, “Momma, Daddy, Shirley, Ruth Ann, Leonard, I’d like y’all to meet my wife, Estafay. She’s from Oceanside, California.”