JAKE WAS PROPPED IN FRONT of the TV, something loud and angry. Ben hated the TV. He’d have been outside, in the woods, despite the black flies, the deer flies. If Jake was his child he’d turn off the TV, he’d take him out. And he will, that is what he will do when he becomes Jake’s guardian. It was in the woods that a boy could find what he needed to get by, he could learn his resilience. But Jake was leery, Jake was timid, the TV had been Jake’s stalwart companion for the many, many hours of his mother’s nods. Ben kissed the boy on the head. “I love you.”
Shevaunne stood out on the deck smoking. When she saw Ben, she stubbed out her cigarette, pushed open the screen door and came inside. “I got the test today.”
“I know.”
“Obviously I’m not going to pass.”
“Sure you are.” Ben showed her the brown paper bag he’d got from Slim and took out a plastic packet about the size of take-away soy sauce. The label read Willow Bend Supplements.
She screwed up her face. “Is that piss?”
“You had a toke,” Ben confirmed. “It would look suspicious if you were totally clean.”
She snorted. “Don’t you know they watch you?”
“That’s why it’s in this little plastic bag. You store it in your underwear.”
Shevaunne regarded the packet of urine for a long moment. “I don’t know,” she said at last.
He stood near her, close, almost like a lover. “Yes, you do.”