And the slow, careful walk was Tito Micky. The footsteps would always stop at the bedroom doorway, and there’d be a soft swoosh as the door rubbed against the carpet when he opened it, just a few inches.
After a minute or two, the door would close and the footsteps would retreat. And then it would take Joey a long time to fall asleep.
During the day, there were accidental grazes. His thigh resting against Joey’s when he sat down on the couch next to her. His shoulder rubbing hers as they passed in the hallway. It was never anything concrete, nothing she could accuse him of, but she tried to avoid him as much as possible.
Since Tito Micky preferred to stay indoors most of the day, the best place to be was outside. And if she needed a break from the boys, too, then her only option was to hang by the pond, since her cousins were forbidden to go near it. Any time they did, Tita Flora would shriek, Get away from there it’s slippery and the water is deep in the middle!
A week before the trial was to begin, Joey was sitting in a folding chair by the pond’s edge, immersed in her new Stephen King book, when she heard a small splash. The sound yanked her out of Derry, the book’s fictional town, and she looked up to see the two older boys pulling the youngest one out of the water. Alarmed, Joey stood up so fast that she knocked her chair over. But then she saw Carson was already out of the water, and fine. He was soaked from the neck down and laughing, while Tyson tried to keep him quiet. Jason, the oldest, caught Joey looking over. He put a finger to his mouth. Shhhh.
Joey nodded. They would all be in trouble if anyone had seen this, but Tita Flora was at the hospital, Tito Micky had gone into town, and Lola Celia had fallen asleep watching her soaps in front of the TV.
Except their grandmother wasn’t asleep. The front door banged open, and the old woman came outside. She bellowed at the boys in Cebuano, her voice a blend of anger and fear. Joey heard Jason say, “We told him not to, but he was trying to catch a frog.”
“Ha-in ma’s Joey?” she heard her grandmother snap.
All three boys pointed across the pond, and Lola Celia gestured for her to come over. Joey braced herself for the verbal beating she was sure to get. But then again, how bad could it be if she couldn’t understand most of what her lola was saying?
But Lola Celia didn’t yell at her. As soon as Joey got close enough, her grandmother stepped forward and smacked her across the face so hard and so fast, she saw stars.
“Tanga,” the old woman spat.
The boys gasped at the sight of the slap and the sound that it made. The two younger ones cringed into their older brother, whose eight-year-old mouth dropped open in stunned horror. It was obvious they’d never been slapped before, or even witnessed someone being slapped. As Joey put her hand to her face, feeling the heat blossom on her cheek from Lola Celia’s small, steel hand, she actually felt a little sorry for her cousins, that they had to see it, and that they were scared.
“Wa’y kapuslanan.” Lola Celia’s tone was calmer now, as if she was stating an indisputable fact.
Joey had picked up more Cebuano words since she’d been here, but these ones, she knew from living with her mother. Tanga meant “idiot.” Wa’y kapuslanan meant “useless.”
I had a bad mother, too, Ruby’s voice whispered in her ear.
Yes, Mama. You did.
* * *
Two days before her mother’s trial was to begin, Tito Micky and Tita Flora drove Joey down to Toronto, while the boys stayed home with Lola Celia. Her aunt and uncle had planned for the trip like it was a mini vacation. They made lunch and shopping plans, and let friends know they’d be back in the city. The drive went quickly, because they were in a great mood.
Joey was a nervous wreck.
After checking into the hotel, her aunt and uncle took her to meet Deborah, who would then bring Joey to visit her mother. Joey was anxious. She had not seen Ruby since the night of the arrest two months earlier. Tita Flora had zero desire to see her sister. When Joey asked if she wanted to come, her aunt said, “Next time,” as if there would actually be a next time, as if it was a dinner invitation, and not a jail visit.
Joey chose McDonald’s again, but there was no burger for Deborah today. She was trying to lose a few pounds, she said, so she ordered a salad instead, which she ate like it was a chore.
“I got a funny feeling when I talked to you last,” Deborah said, swallowing a mouthful of iceberg lettuce. “Is everything going okay at your aunt and uncle’s house?”
Tito Micky’s midnight shadow flickered through Joey’s mind, followed by the sting of Lola Celia’s slap. “Everything’s fine.”