Chapter Three

Riley drove mindlessly until he ended up in front of the little trailer that belonged to his cousin.

Sully came out dressed in just partially zipped jeans and Riley suddenly remembered that it wasn’t even nine o’clock in the morning.

“Riley. That you, boy?” Sully called while standing on a rickety porch that held a mix matched set of rusted metal chairs amidst several crushed beer cans.

“Yep.” Riley slammed the door of the truck and headed up the porch stairs. Sully stepped aside to let him in. A window air conditioning unit was burring noisily, and along with an oscillating fan situated right next a rickety, second hand armchair the interior was surprisingly cool.

“Ain’t you supposed to be at work?” Sully asked curiously. He retrieved two beers from the fridge and thrust one at Riley before opening the other for himself.

Riley felt slightly better with the cold brew and the knowledge that he hadn’t gotten his cousin out of bed since the television was turned to ESPN.

“That son of a bitch Bodie Matthews just up and fired me!” Riley exclaimed. He sat down on a couch, which was haphazardly covered with an old blanket. The trailer was filthy, but he was used to it. Unless Sully was hooked up with one of his meth headed girlfriends who might take a notion to pick up a little, the trailer stayed in a perpetual state of disgusting.

Sully stopped in the middle of scratching his scrawny chest.

“Fired? What you do? Look at the ass on his black bitch one time too many?” Sully grinned. He didn’t cotton to race mixing but since Bodie wasn’t completely white it didn’t much matter that he’d taken up with the black girl that he’d knocked up--although it did perplex him as to why he’d up and married her since she was already giving up the goodies.

Riley was scowling. “Get this,” and then he recounted the entire story about Pete getting deported and how Bodie had blamed him for it. Sully’s expression darkened when his name was brought up.

“That nigger-loving mother fucker brought my name into it?” Sully asked incredulously. Not that he cared whether he was given the credit for having an illegal deported. They could all go back to Mexico for all he cared—illegal or not. But he just didn’t like Bodie acting hoity-toity.

Riley swallowed back his beer and felt a little better although he rarely drank except on Saturdays when he met up with his cousin and his cousin’s buddies at Stubby’s. It too was part of his routine—but only in small amounts. He’d seen how drinking had wrecked the lives of so many people that he knew, including his cousin, which is why he didn’t make much time for it.

“He’s blaming everybody but the person that should be blamed for getting into this country illegally in the first place,” Riley spat bitterly.

Sully went back into the kitchen for another brew. “You can’t expect anything different. They stick together--as they should. But that don’t mean it’s right for him to leave you without a paycheck.” Sully returned to the living room and took up his seat in the rickety armchair. “I told you not to trust that asshole Bodie.”

Riley hoped that his cousin wouldn’t start rehashing his old dislike for Bodie and Shaun. Sully still blamed them for his time in jail for murder. He’d killed Keegan McMichaels in a drug deal gone wrong but hadn’t even spent a year at Green River after his appeal went through and he got off claiming self-defense. Keegan did have a violent nature so a long record of violent offenses had contributed to Sully’s freedom. Still, he’d taken a good ass whupping from Keegan’s older brother Derrick and he’d blamed Bodie for that as well. For protecting Shaundea, who he referred to as ‘that black bitch’ that he’d unsuccessfully tried to set up to take the fall.

Riley didn’t agree with Sully that any of that was Bodie’s fault and had told his cousin this time and time again. His cousin should count himself lucky that he’d gotten off with just a few busted ribs, a broken nose and a few lost teeth. But Sully hated Bodie more than he did Derrick who was the one that had beaten his ass.

It didn’t make much sense—only it did because Bodie was part Indian and that was enough of a reason for Sully to dislike him. Riley didn’t share those thoughts. Bodie had given him a job even after the beef with Sully and he had nothing against Shaun who brought them all cold drinks and lunch whenever she made extra. She’d bring the little girls with her to the garage and Riley thought they were cute the way they grabbed their dad’s legs and tried to hug him while he’d raise his dirty hands over his head so that he wouldn’t get grease on their pretty pink clothes. His eyes would get big and Riley would hide a grin at the big man’s dilemma of wanting to pick up his little girls but afraid of getting them all dirty. Riley would think that if those were his little girls he wouldn’t give two shakes about their clothes getting greasy. They’d each get all the hugs and kisses that they wanted.

“Hey, that leaves the spic’s girl available,” Sully said with a bright expression. “I may pay that bitch a visit,” he muttered mostly to himself. “Not that I’d want a girl with a spic baby.”

Riley just stared at his cousin in disbelief that he’d think that the pretty, strawberry blonde girl would give him the time of day. Sully still hadn’t replaced his missing teeth that had been knocked out by Derrick. And by the smell of him he hadn’t bathed in days. His filthy trailer was about all he owned and it was nothing but a haven for empty beer cans and bottles. The ones not empty were filled with black tobacco spit from his chew. Besides that, Sully had never been much to look at and at the age of thirty-six he appeared ten years older than that. And considering that he subsisted on just meager monthly disability and SSI checks he wasn’t anyone’s good catch.

Riley blew out a long breath. He loved his cousin, would do anything for Sully but he didn’t want to hear this shit right now. He stood, leaving his half empty beer on the filthy cocktail table.

“I better get going. I gotta think about my next move.”

Sully stood and clapped him on the back. “Alright, cuz. And don’t let that prick’s action take you down. Bodie Matthews ain’t nothing but a piece of cow shit. He got a little bit of something and wants you to beg for his generosity. Well fuck him! Pranger’s don’t beg.  We hold our heads up high! You remember that, Riley. Hold your head up high. That prairie nigger ain’t shit!”

Riley stared into his cousin’s eyes. His words hadn’t made him feel better, only worse. He pulled Sully into a quick hug and then left. The fire went out of him as he walked to his truck, recalling what Bodie had said. He didn’t trust him around his family and then Riley had spat out a hateful fuck you and fuck your family…