All the Ugly and Wonderful Things

Deputy Vogel told me to call him if I ever needed something. It’s what they taught in school, too. They said the police were there to help you, but I don’t think they knew what happened when the police came to your house. Cops ruin everything. They kick in the front door, throw people on the floor and handcuff them. They break things and steal things. They lock you in a patrol car, make you spend all night in the police station wearing your nightgown, and then send you home with strangers. That’s why I would never call Deputy Vogel, no matter how much Mama and Liam fought. I’d thrown away the paper with his number as soon as he gave it to me, because I remembered what happened the last time the police came to our house.

Eventually, they stopped fighting and passed out. They always did. After everyone was quiet, I opened the window and looked down at the trellis Kellen climbed up on his birthday. The stair door was locked, and I had the only key, so no one could come upstairs while I was gone. Donal was safe.

The trellis was like climbing down a ladder, and then I was free.

I cut across the fields to the north, to a house I’d never visited. Like Liam’s ranch, it wasn’t a real farm. No chickens in the yard and only a car in the barn. All the windows were open. I went along, tugging at the bottoms of the screens until I found one where the hook had come loose.

Always check the fridge first. The best foods are kept there. Homemade things. Also apples. And pickles. Open the jar, take out two, stuff one then the other in my mouth. Tangy and sweet on my tongue. Fried chicken, salty and firm. Nibble the wing down to bone and slip it into my pocket to throw away later. Something smooth in a bowl, but hard to tell with no light. Dip a finger in and lick it. Vanilla pudding. Chocolate was better, but vanilla was good.

Eating was most important, but once it was done, I looked at the things people think they own. I didn’t take things very often, but I liked to move them. Car keys, purses, glasses, one shoe out of a pair.

The living room smelled like flowers and powder. There was a piano with pictures on top, and a candy dish on the coffee table. I lifted the lid and took a piece. Licorice. I put it back and lowered the lid. It made a tiny ching sound, but nothing worse.

“Lolene? Is that you?”

I jerked my hand away from the candy dish and took two quick steps back.

In the shadows, a woman was sitting in a chair. She had white hair in the moonlight, like Grandma.

“Do you want candy? Ma’s not here to catch us. We can eat all the candy we want.”

I took another step back.

“Why won’t you talk to me, Lolene?”

Another step and my shoulder knocked against the piano. A picture fell over.

“Do you want me to play the piano? Ma says I play almost as well as you. Almost.”

I ran, straight through the kitchen to the back door. Behind me, the woman called, “Lolene! Come back!”

When I got home, I found Cassiopeia and Cepheus and Ursa Major drawn in the gravel at the bottom of the drive, where Kellen had waited for me. He tried to draw Orion, too, but missed two stars.

I crawled back up the trellis to my room, where Donal was asleep. Safe. In the morning, when I went downstairs to get breakfast for him, Mama and Liam were in bed naked. Uncle Sean was on the couch with a needle on the floor next to him. I picked it up and laid it on the coffee table. Safe.

8

BUTCH

April 1982

If anybody wanted to know why that kid never talked, I could’ve told them. That’s what happens when your mom grabs you by the hair, clamps her hand over your mouth, and gives you a good shake while screaming in your face, “Don’t you ever talk to people! You don’t talk to anyone!”

That’s what Val did to Wavy when she was about three years old. I don’t know what she thought a three-year-old could tell anyone, but I guess Wavy played in the sandbox with the neighbor’s kids, and the neighbor said something that made Liam nervous. More likely the neighbor noticed people going in and out of the house all hours of the day and night. Not everybody is as stupid as Liam thinks they are.

Liam and I go way back, and I owed him for keeping my name out of it when he got arrested, but watching Val rattle that kid’s brain was the end of the line for me. Never mind how long we’d been in business together, I was ready to knock that crazy bitch on her ass. I didn’t have to, because Liam grabbed Val’s arm and said, “That’s enough, baby.”

I never heard another peep out of that little girl. Years later she warmed up to Jesse Joe Kellen. He was one of the local yokels we hired when we moved the operation to Powell. Not much more than a kid when Liam hired him, he was a big thug with a face like a plank. Always looked half-stoned, even though he wasn’t, and didn’t hardly open his mouth when he talked.

Sometimes, Kellen brought Wavy around the lab barracks when he played poker or dominos with us. She’d hang around watching the game, and bring us beers. Like a little waitress.

Kellen and her, they were cute together. She’d lean on his shoulder, look at his hand, count his chips. Him being so much bigger, it was funny how he acted with her. He talked to her like she was an adult. She always whispered in his ear, so you got the idea they were having a conversation. I don’t know what she ever said to him.

One night, Kellen got up in the middle of a hand and said, “I’m gonna go up to the house for some beer.”

“Let’s just finish this hand,” Vic said.

“She’ll play for me.” Kellen gave his cards to Wavy and started up the hill toward the trailers.