Buddy Lee ran his thumbs back and forth over the calluses on his forefingers. LaPlata stood and almost reflexively dusted off his backside.
“Stay out of this, Mr. Jenkins. My partner is headed over to Mr. Randolph’s right now to tell him the same thing. Let us do our job. You can’t change what happened but you can control what happens next.”
You have no idea, hoss, Buddy Lee thought.
TWENTY-ONE
Ike pulled into his driveway just as the setting sun danced over the tips of the cypress trees in his backyard. He cut off his truck and went into the house. He closed the door behind him and locked it. They lived in a cul-de-sac off a side road. If someone followed him, he’d be able to see them coming, but he didn’t want to make it easy for them to get inside the house. Vacuous voices chattered incessantly from the television in the living room. Mya was sitting on the couch. The smoke from her cigarette flowed up from her ashtray like a will-o’-the-wisp.
Ike hung his keys on the combo chalkboard / key rack on the wall and went to the kitchen. He heard Mya get to her feet and follow him. He grabbed the rum from the cabinet and poured himself a shot in a heavy cut-crystal glass. The rum burned all the way down to his stomach. He knew Mya would be standing near the broom closet with her arms crossed over her narrow chest. He knew the look that would be etched on her face. He started to pour himself another shot, then stopped. He put the glass in the sink and turned to face his wife. Her arms were indeed crossed over her chest as she glowered at him.
“You staying out all night now?” she asked.
“Something came up,” Ike said.
“Oh, something came up? That made your phone stop working?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call.”
“You’re sorry. Okay. Where the hell were you? You know that detective came by earlier looking for you. I thought he might have some news about Isiah’s case, but he said he needed to talk to you personally. You got any idea what the hell that’s about?”
The mention of the detective sent a shiver through his spine but it quickly dissipated. If he was looking to jam him up about the kid they’d turned into fertilizer, he would have come by the shop with a pair of handcuffs. Especially since Ike had a prior for manslaughter.
That’s what they called it, anyway, Ike thought.
He gave up on the glass and took a swig of rum straight from the bottle. Mya crossed the distance between them like a gazelle. She snatched the bottle from his grip and slammed it down on the kitchen table. A few drops escaped the long neck of the bottle and splattered onto the table, then dripped off the edge.
“We ain’t starting this, Ike.”
“Starting what? What is it you think I’m doing?”
Mya rubbed her hands together, then held them out in front of her. As she spoke, her hands trembled.
“I don’t know. I don’t think you are cheating on me. We are way too old for that kind of petty shit, I hope. But you can’t be running these streets drinking all night and sleeping it off at the shop because of…” She trailed off into a sob.
“I wasn’t drinking. Not last night. And Red Hill ain’t got no real streets. Just a lot of roads that don’t go nowhere,” Ike said in a hushed tone.
“I can’t take it, Ike. I don’t want to get a call about them finding your body after your truck done run off the road because you drunk. I’m barely holding on as it is. If it wasn’t for Arianna, I wouldn’t even get out of bed in the morning. She’s the only thing that matters now, and I can’t do this by myself. I can’t raise her alone, Ike. I did that with Isiah and I just ain’t got the strength anymore,” Mya said. Tears ran down her face. Ike started to put his arms around her but she flinched. He stopped.
“I know. I know it was hard when I went away. You raised him right while I was locked up. You made him a better man than I’ll ever be. But this ain’t the same thing. It ain’t nothing like it was before. And Arianna ain’t the only thing that matters now. Don’t we matter just a little bit? What we had, you and me, don’t that matter to you at all?” He didn’t intend to speak about them in the past tense, but the words flew out of his mouth like hornets riled from their nest. Mya didn’t seem to notice.
“You know it does.”
“Sometimes I can’t tell,” Ike said. Mya wiped her face.
“How can you say that to me? I love you, Ike. I’ve loved you for longer than I can remember. But our boy is dead. And I can’t wrap my mind around that. I keep trying and trying and then I look at Arianna and I see so much of Isiah in her till I almost can’t stand it. It hurts so bad, Ike. It’s like I ain’t got no room in my heart for nothing but hurt. Is that why you didn’t come home? You can’t stand looking at hurt anymore? Is that how it’s gonna be? Like it’s one night. Then a couple. Then you don’t come home for weeks. Then one day you gone. Is that what this is, Ike? You testing the waters on your way out the door?” Mya said.