Ten miles down the road, Hank snorted his third line of coke. He wanted to march to that meddling cunt’s fancy house, but he knew better than to attack her in her own territory. He needed to bide his time, but he could take a trip to see Danella while the dyke was busy with whoever she had in her truck. He could control his temper long enough to sweet-talk his way back into Danella’s bed.
Hiking up his baggy pants, Hank swaggered outside and slammed the old door to the cabin. His rusty junk car sat forlorn in the grass waiting for him. He’d hid it in the back to keep the nosy cops from tracking him down. They didn’t know he was squatting in the abandoned cabin. The creak of the door reminded him of an old man. He thought of Old Man Simpson and how he always silently watched from his crate. Hank wasn’t stupid. He knew the old man was judging him, but he was old and couldn’t do a damn thing.
The car sputtered to life, and he put it in gear, spitting dirt and weeds into the air as he peeled off, heading in the direction of Danella’s trailer. He needed a few weeks to get back on his feet, and then they could move somewhere better. Maybe to a trailer that wasn’t falling apart. He could take her somewhere that bitch wouldn’t find them. There were plenty of out of the way places in the woods close to his meth lab.
When he pulled up to the trailer, he saw his kid playing in the dirt. It was time to teach her some discipline. He’d tried to do that before, and things had gotten out of hand. But she needed to respect him. He was her father.
After slamming the car door, he looked at Lucritia and snarled, “Where’s your momma?”
Lucritia’s eyes went wide, and she scrambled away, running into the trailer and letting the door bang the aluminum frame behind her.
Good. He hoped she was getting Danella, and then he would tell her to scram while he satisfied his need. Danella was his woman and his dick needed her.
Danella appeared in the doorway, a grimace on her face. That was not the sort of welcome he was expecting. She stepped out of the trailer and yelled, “Get the fuck outta here, Hank. Thought I made myself clear last time. Don’t want nothing to do with you.”
“Look at this shithole you’re living in. I need a few weeks, and then we can go somewhere real nice. You don’t got to do much. Just a few deals here and there.”
“I said no. I ain’t going back and leavin’ Lucritia again.”
“It was only for thirty days, and I’ll bet they took good care of her. Look, baby, I ain’t mad at you or nothing. I know them cops twisted your head and got you to say stuff you didn’t mean to. We can start all over again.”
“I’m not tellin’ you again, Hank. Leave us alone. We don’t need you. I’m gonna get a real job.”
Hank narrowed his eyes when the little brat appeared in the doorway of the trailer. She could barely hold the shotgun she had in her arms. Little shit had the nerve to point it at him. Again. But this time, he was invincible. There was no way she had the balls to shoot. He started to advance, and her little hands pulled back the pump.
“Mamma said to git.” Her voice quavered, and he smirked at her.
“You ain’t got the guts. When I get my hands on you, I’m gonna teach you a lesson you’ll never forget. Don’t you dare disrespect me.”
A loud shot reverberated as his kid pointed the shotgun in the air.
Hank took another step, and he heard the pump again before the second shot landed between his feet clipping his big toe. He jumped and began hopping around on one foot.
“She shot me,” he exclaimed. Not sure whether she had aimed for somewhere else and missed, he stared at her, reappraising his situation.
“She’s been practicing. Don’t miss too much of what she aims at. I’m guessing the next shot will be higher. I wish she’d enjoy being a kid, but you know what it’s like. Kids grow up fast around here. She’s a lot more mature for her age. Believe me when I say she won’t hesitate to shoot you. I taught her that if she kills you, self-defense or not, they ain’t gonna lock up an eight-year-old.” The harsh edge to Danella’s voice told Hank he wasn’t going to win today. He’d need to come up with a new plan. A plan to get that kid taken away for good. She wasn’t ever going to behave, and he didn’t need that shit in his life. He never wanted a fucking kid, anyway.
“This ain’t over,” Hank called over his shoulder as he turned and limped away.
He heard Danella whisper, “You done good, Lucritia. Mari would be so proud of you.”
†
Blair was happily sprawled out on the wood floor as she stretched her hand toward a small calico kitten that had the most unusual markings. A triangle of orange sat above the kitten’s eyes surrounded by black. Green eyes watched Blair warily. A white muzzle, chest and tiny boots made the miniature furball unique. Blair flexed her index finger, and the kitten inched closer. Her curiosity causing her to be brave. Mama kitty was laying in the swath of late afternoon sunshine that filtered in through one of the windows. Three other babies were happily kneading her belly and sucking on her nipples.
“I can tell she wants you to pet her,” Maribel said. “Be careful though. She thinks your finger is a play toy.”
The kitten flopped down and batted at Blair’s finger.
Blair laughed. “I think you’re right. How do you know it’s a she? I doubt you’re able to get close enough to see her junk.”
“Tri-colors are almost always female. I have baby food in the house. It’s chicken flavor. That usually works to get them to come closer. Food is a powerful motivator.”
“And you didn’t think to grab that before we came out? No wonder you’re the cat whisperer. You’ve been bribing them.”
“Motivating, not bribing.”
“I don’t think there is any difference. It’s not like there’s the cat police making a distinction here. You don’t have to worry about them coming to arrest you for bribery.”
Maribel flopped on her back and began laughing, startling the kitten in the process. “God, you’re funny. You sure have a different way of looking at the world.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think I’ve cornered that market. I’ve heard you say a few things that are quite distinctive.”
“Hmm, we can be atypical together.” Maribel lifted her hand and made a puppet. “Odd meet Quirky.” Bringing her other hand in the air she mimicked the first gesture. “Why good to meet ya, Quirky. Does eccentricity run in your family, too? Ah, good, good, we’ll make beautiful weirdness. Can’t wait to start. Shall we get naked now or wait until we’re in more sanitary conditions? Although, you have to admit, this floor is remarkably clean.”
“It is.” Blair jumped up and offered her hand. “I think it’s egg duty time, but I’m going to let you deal with Henrietta. I might offer my hand for the little one over there”—Blair jerked her head in the direction of the calico—“to bite at, but a pecking hen is beyond my level of tolerance.”
†
Hank was all wound up now that he hadn’t gotten what he’d come for. In fact, he’d ended up with something he hadn’t bargained for, a bloody fucking toe. Screeching to a halt in front of the cabin, he hobbled inside and grabbed his shotgun.
At first, he thought about heading back to Danella’s place and filling the trailer with bullet holes, but he was sure the police might come looking for him. They weren’t stupid, either. They’d figure he was pissed about Danella ratting him out. They’d be wrong about the reason, but that wouldn’t matter. Instead, he’d work out his anger at one of those stores that took away the easier part of his business. Selling weed was a lot less dangerous than meth, and now the distribution line had dried up. That would teach them not to compete.
Hank had two choices, the small mom-and-pop store or the big, fancy, cannabis store right in the middle of town, looking downright reputable. They were making a killing from just the kind of people Hank had always wanted to sell to. People with money who wouldn’t squabble over the cost of his shit. The damn store looked like an upscale coffee house.
“I’ll teach them who’s boss,” he mumbled to himself.
This wouldn’t take long. Hank pulled into the parking lot and left his old beater running. Who would want to steal that hunk of junk? Yanking on his baggy pants again, he reached inside the car with his other hand and grabbed the gun.
As he approached the heavy door to the store, he sniffed loudly and then spit a glob of mucus on their pristine sidewalk next to the blooming flowers.
“Keep your fucking noses out of the weed business,” he shouted.
The clerk and two customers didn’t have time to react as Hank unloaded his shotgun sending twenty-five rounds into the freshly painted walls, gleaming display cases and soft flesh of the only people in the store. Too bad there were only three recipients of his rage. He would have liked the death count to be higher. Next time.
Hank spit again, this time on the gleaming floor littered now with glass, debris, and three widening swaths of bright red blood. The puddles were growing exponentially, and Hank wondered if they would eventually come together in one large pool of destruction. With a final glance back at his message to anyone brave enough to fuck with one of his business lines, he pushed the door open, then climbed into his running car and sped away.
†
Blair was acting jittery after they had collected the eggs and set them in the refrigerator to hold until they would be able to deliver them in the morning. Maribel didn’t think it had anything to do with being hungry. She had called in their order for the pizza, and they were waiting for the delivery. She decided to come out and ask, rather than speculating.
“Okay, spill. What’s got you more skittish than those kittens?”
Blair made a face before glancing at her laptop lying on the kitchen table. “I feel bad about wanting to check my email. I know I spent all afternoon working on my project and completely ignoring you…”
Maribel laughed. “Is that all? God, I thought I’d done something wrong again, and you were working up the nerve to lecture me. Go for it. I’m sure your secret crush wrote back. The sooner you log in and check, the more settled you’ll be.”
“I promise, once I have a date locked in, then I can begin to plan.”
“I know,” Maribel answered. “We have the whole evening to enjoy pizza and watch the sunset. It’s gonna be a dandy tonight.”
“A dandy?” Blair chuckled. “You sound like you walked off the Mayberry RFD set.”
Maribel’s face screwed in confusion.
Blair waved her hand in the air. “Never mind. I like watching old television shows on MeTV. I’ll make you watch one with me someday. They’re quite entertaining when you want mindless fun back to a time when things were simpler. Sheriff Andy never carried a gun, and he wouldn’t let his deputy, Barney, put bullets in the gun he carried in a holster attached to his belt. Wish that were true in today’s world.” Blair sighed.
“I don’t think that’s realistic, Blair.” Her quiet voice was tentative with her answer. “If the only people who have guns are the bad guys, because you know they’ll find a way to get them, not arming the police is honestly a recipe for disaster. Most of the small towns these days have the worst drug problems. With drugs, comes violence.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree.” Blair pivoted and grabbed the laptop, before sitting heavily on the couch and popping open the screen.
Maribel took the cue to keep quiet lest another argument ensue. She began to busy herself in the kitchen, preparing Old Man Simpson’s blended meals and putting together food containers for Danella and Lucritia. The other families she delivered to received fresh eggs but were a lot more self-sufficient and, besides, Lucritia had captured her heart more than any other. She wanted to make sure she and her mother were well taken care of.
Above the noise of the blender, Maribel heard the gasp. When she looked up, Blair’s face was a ghostly white. She pressed the button to stop the blender and asked, “What’s wrong.”
“There’s been another shooting. Three people are dead. They have security footage and have identified the man as Hank Gooding. Please tell me that is not the same Hank who has it out for you?”
Maribel rushed to where Blair was sitting with the computer resting precariously on her lap. She slid in next to Blair, touching her hand in an effort to ground her.
“Can I see?”
Blair turned the laptop toward Maribel, who frowned when she looked at the screen. The shooting had made national news. Two shootings in a relatively rural area in such a short time were causing a news frenzy. It wouldn’t be long before the major news networks high-tailed it to the area and began covering the latest shooting. Maribel wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“Do you know the shooter or not?”
Maribel nodded. “I know him.”
“If the police know who it is, they’ll catch him and put him behind bars, right?”
Maribel was shaking her head. “Depends. Hank’s got a lot of places he can go to hide, especially if he catches wind that they know who he is. I don’t think he banked on the store having security cameras. But my biggest worry is Danella and Squirt. Desperate people do stupid things. That’s what I’m most worried about. Will you be okay here, waiting for the pizza while I go check on them?”
“No, no way. I’m not letting you go there on your own. You should call the police. Let them handle it.”
“Danella doesn’t trust the police. She taught Lucritia to have a healthy skepticism about local law enforcement. Even after she gave them Hank, some of them aren’t the kindest sort. There are a few who believe once a drug dealer, always a drug dealer. She insists they consider her poor white trash and not worthy of protection. An eight-year-old might not have the best judgment when it comes to who she points her shotgun at.”
“I don’t like this. Not one bit. I don’t suppose there is anything I can do to convince you not to put yourself at risk?”
“You don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself. I promise I’ll be quick. Keep the pizza warm for me, but eat if I’m not back by the time it gets here.” Maribel stood and headed for the back door.
“Please be careful.”
Maribel saluted. “Always am.”
†
Before turning off the engine to her truck, Maribel reached into the back and grabbed her shotgun. Scanning the area, she didn’t sense anything out of place, but neither Danella nor Lucritia were outside. She saw the threadbare curtain in the trailer move and a tiny face peeked out. The immediate smile warmed Maribel’s heart. She shook her head indicating she was coming to them and made her way to the trailer door as rapidly as she could.
Danella opened the door. The crease in her brow deepened. “What ya doing here, and why do you have your shotgun?”
“Has Hank been by to see you today?”
“He has. Lucritia shot his toe. He was pissed, but I told him next time Lucritia would shoot him in the balls. Warned him that she wasn’t afraid to take him out, and they’d never put a kid in jail for it.”
“He shot up the fancy marijuana store. Killed three people. Why don’t you and Squirt come stay with me until this all blows over?”
Lucritia peeked her head around the corner. “I was aiming for his foot, like ya taught me, but I missed. Caught his toe, though.”
“I’m real proud of you, Squirt. How’d you like to come stay with me for a few days?”
Lucritia looked at her mother.
Danella leaned against the frame, and a determined look crossed her face. “That’s nice of you to offer, but I’m not letting him chase us away from our home. I know this isn’t much, but it’s mine. We can take care of ourselves. We both have good instincts. I promise if he comes ’round again, Lucritia won’t give him a warning shot. I’ll tell her to aim higher. Will that make you feel better?”
“Not really, but I have to respect your decision. I’d rather not put that onto a child even if I’m the one who has given her the tools to protect herself. Has Squirt taught you how to shoot yet?”
Danella chuckled. “Yeah, she’s been bugging me to try it out. I’m not as good as her, but I can shoot, and if the target is big enough, I catch a piece of it.”
“Good. I’ve got another shotgun in my truck. I want you to take that. If he forces you to use it, don’t hesitate, okay? You let me worry about getting you a lawyer if it comes down to that.”
“Don’t worry, Mari. If he comes after my kid again, the last thing I’ll be worried about is going to jail for shooting that prick.”
“Good, good. I’ll be back as usual tomorrow morning. Hopefully, Hank heard how the police know about his shooting spree and he’s lying low. He isn’t stupid. He knows that coming here is not the smartest choice, but then again, shooting up the marijuana store is the very definition of a dumb-ass move. I wonder if he started using when he landed in prison?”
“Probably, he looked hopped up when he came by before.”
Maribel retrieved the extra shotgun and handed it to Danella. “Please be careful. Bye, Squirt. Take care of your mom.”
“I will.” The determination in the little girl’s face both saddened Maribel and made her proud. An eight-year-old kid should not have that kind of responsibility.
†
Hank entered the run-down cabin and sneered. “I’ll be living the good life soon enough. Respect, that’s the name of the game. They’re all gonna respect me now.”
He walked in pain to the white refrigerator and yanked open the door. Cheap beer was the only item sitting on the middle shelf. He grabbed a can and popped the top before picking up the remote and then slumping onto the dirty brown recliner. Greasy stains covered the fabric, but Hank didn’t seem bothered by the condition of the chair. As he cycled through the channels, he stopped on one of the news stations when his mug shot flashed on the screen.
“What the fuck?”
Turning up the volume, he listened to the newscaster with his perfect hair and teeth. The solemn expression was all for show. Hank knew that. He didn’t give a shit about the people Hank had chosen to earn a lesson in respect.
“Police have identified the gunman in the latest mass shooting that occurred less than two weeks from the tragedy at Cedarbrook Elementary where twenty children, most under the age of nine, lost their lives. Hank Gooding is described as armed and dangerous. The police are looking for any information on the gunman’s whereabouts…”
Hank jumped from his chair, spilling beer on his ratty T-shirt. “How the fuck do they know it was me?” he shouted into the empty cabin.
As he paced the dirty floor, he began mumbling. He didn’t have anything to lose now. Maybe he’d go out in a blaze of glory. That dyke bitch was at the top of his list. She’d be by again in the morning. He was sure of that. She was like clockwork, thinking she was an angel protector, giving food and stuff to his woman and kid. That was his job, not hers. Danella better not be fucking her in return. He’d blast a hole in her pussy for that.
Gulping down the rest of the beer in his hand, he grabbed another and thought about his situation while pacing the floor. She usually came early. He would have to make sure he was up, and then he’d blast her truck when it passed his cabin. With twenty-five rounds of ammo, she didn’t stand a chance against his assault. After he took care of her, he’d head to Danella’s place. She had proved she wasn’t worth handling with finesse anymore.