Bitter Sun. Beth Lewis

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СКАЧАТЬ hate it. It was Momma smell.

      ‘I love you, John Royal. My best thing,’ she murmured right up close to my ear.

      Jenny couldn’t have heard that.

      ‘I love you too, Momma.’

      Then she squeezed me tight and we lay like that. Her breathing soon turned deep and slow, her arm became dead weight over me, pressing me down into the mattress.

      A creak from the upstairs floorboards said Jenny rolled over in the bed we shared. I was giving her room, I thought, to stretch out her leg and not be bothered in the night. I fidget. I kick out sometimes. If I caught her knee with my heel I’d never forgive myself. Really, it was for the best I sleep down here.

      It was hot as Hell that night and Momma’s sauced-up body heat doubled the sweat on me. But I didn’t move. I must have slept because I remember waking up. Momma’s snores in my ear and the blue dawn light in my eyes. And Jenny. Standing in the bedroom doorway, blazing. The bandage on her leg was red through and a river ran down her shin. Then she was gone and her footsteps, uneven with the limp, trailed off down the stairs. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath of Momma, then, despite myself and all my will, I drifted back to sleep.

      When I woke again Momma was gone. Sound of running water rushed up from the kitchen. I sprang out of bed, sticky and hot, and ran upstairs. No Jenny. Her leg needed attention, I needed to help her before her and Momma got into another fight. Where was she?

      Downstairs, into the kitchen, and there. With Momma. I froze. Momma had filled up a basin and got some clean bandages. Jenny sat up on the kitchen table, wincing through a smile, while Momma redressed the wound.

      ‘Morning, sleepyhead,’ Momma said when she saw me.

      She pinned the fresh bandage to Jenny’s knee then, to my shock and Jenny’s too, dipped her head and kissed it better.

      ‘You’ll have a hell of a scar to show, sweetpea,’ she said, not a hint of slurring or hangover.

      I couldn’t move. Jenny and Momma, getting on, kindness and pet names. It was like I woke up and stumbled right into the Twilight Zone. That one with Barry Morse and the player piano that made people act strange when a roll was playing. I almost listened for the music. Don’t question it, Johnny, you’ll spook them.

      ‘Go on now, both of you,’ Momma said, ‘get ready for school. I’ll drop you both in.’

      Jenny and me looked at each other then to Momma. Surprise must have been clear as glass in our faces because Momma clicked her fingers and said, ‘Go on, get.’

      ‘Thank you, Momma,’ Jenny said and I think she wanted to hug her then but something stopped her. Years of memories maybe, a survival instinct or something like it. Instead she slid off the table and we both got ready for school.

      Momma drove us. Dropped us by the front doors.

      ‘Have a good day, babies,’ she said, hanging out the car window.

      ‘Yes, ma’am,’ we both said, climbing out the truck.

      ‘Be careful of strangers, you hear? After they found the poor girl by the lake, you don’t know who might be a killer in this town.’ Her eyes fell on Jenny. ‘The thought of anything happening to my babies …’ She shook her head, almost welled up, then waved to us and drove away.

      I could count on one thumb the number of times Momma drove us to school. When she was gone, I couldn’t speak. This wasn’t the other side of the coin, this was a whole new coin on the spin.

      ‘What …’ Jenny started.

      ‘I don’t know,’ I said.

      ‘She was …’

      ‘I know. What did you say?’

      Jenny shrugged. ‘She found me in the kitchen trying to change the bandage and, maybe the blood freaked her out, I don’t know.’

      Whatever this new Momma was, we didn’t want to jinx it. We didn’t say anything else about it, just went to class, and carried the tender feeling with us.

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