Before Buddy Lee could answer, Christine began to howl. Great trumpeting cries that shook the trailer. She slipped out of the recliner and onto his floor. Her white capris picking up brown smudges from Buddy Lee’s carpet.
“If I hadn’t abandoned him, maybe he’d still be alive! You were right. It’s all my fault,” Christine sobbed. Buddy Lee thought she sounded like an animal caught in a snare. It made his skin crawl. A part of him, the part that still cared for her—hell, loved her—told him to go to her. It told him to put his arms around her, take in her scent, and tell her that wasn’t true. That it wasn’t her fault. That the only person responsible for what happened to their son was the bastard that pulled the trigger.
He didn’t move.
Because the other part of him, the part that knew the part that loved her was a nostalgic fool, believed she needed to feel this. She needed to have this pain touch her in places her money and status couldn’t shield. She’d turned her back on their son. He’d been dismissive and cruel. They both needed to own that shit.
“You didn’t kill him, Christine,” Buddy Lee said finally. Christine’s cries were ebbing. The howls becoming fainter and fainter. She hugged her knees to her chin. Buddy Lee went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of paper towels. He folded them and gave them to Christine. She wiped her eyes and her nose.
“Oh God, I’m just a mess, Buddy Lee. You know he called me a couple of weeks before it happened? I ignored the call. I couldn’t get into it with him about Gerald and his politics and the gay-rights agenda. I just didn’t want to deal with all that.” She sighed. “Huh, who are we kidding? I never wanted to deal with it. I didn’t know it would be the last time I’d get a chance to talk to him. Ah, Jesus,” Christine said.
“Nobody ever knows the last time is gonna be the last time until it’s too late. You ain’t alone in that. That’s what makes living so damn terrible sometimes,” Buddy Lee said. Christine looked up at him.
“Have the police been in touch with you? Have they made any progress at all?” she asked.
“They been in touch. Don’t know how much progress they done made,” Buddy Lee said.
Christine nodded. “You know, I think about what I would do if I could confront them. The person who did it. Guess that’ll never happen. They got my boy’s blood on their hands and I’ll never get to see them pay,” Christine said. She began to wail again. Buddy Lee stood near her. He looked down and watched as her body trembled and rocked. He watched as his hand eased toward her head. At the last moment he pulled it back and put it in his pocket. Instead he plopped down beside her.
“Me and Ike, Derek’s husband’s daddy, we been kinda poking around this thing,” Buddy Lee said. He didn’t lean in close or put his arm around her. He simply said it while staring straight ahead.
“‘Poking around’？ What does that mean?” Christine asked, sniffling.
Buddy Lee nodded. “Trying to see if we can shake some shit loose. We gonna be talking to this music fella soon. Gonna see if knows where this girl is that might be able to tell us what started all this shit,” Buddy Lee said.
Christine raised her head. “That’s all you’re doing, right? Looking into it? You’re not trying to hurt anybody, right?”
Buddy Lee shook his head. He was remarkably good at lying to her. “Nah. All we doing is trying to get to the truth.”
“I don’t want anyone else to die,” Christine said.
“They won’t,” Buddy Lee said. He thought, Unless they the ones that killed the boys.
“I know you, Buddy. That temper of yours. You’ve never been able to control it,” Christine said.
“I never put my hands on you. Never.”
“No, you didn’t. But you broke my uncle’s jaw.”
“He called me a piece of white trash, then he spit on me. What was I supposed to do? Give him a deep-tissue massage and burn incense?” Buddy Lee asked. Christine laughed. This one was different. It was like honey on his soul.
“You always could make me laugh. So, when you going to talk to this—what did you call him? A music fella?” Christine asked.
“Made you laugh. Made you cry, too. You and Derek,” Buddy Lee said. He puffed up his cheeks and took a long breath. “We’re probably gonna go talk to him tomorrow. I think Ike needs a break today. We been running kinda hard.”
Buddy Lee thought, We been running around breaking people’s fingers and tipping over fake cakes, then we ended up grinding a boy into manure, then we got in a fight at a gay club. Shit, Ike needed a break? Truth is, we’re both old and we’re both tired as hell. I need a break just as much as he does.