Junior's Leg by Ken Wells

Author:Ken Wells
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781588360243
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2001-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

16

The whiskey and the warm fall sun have made me drowsy. I sit on the stoop for a while, listenin’ to Iris Mary rootin’ around in the kitchen.

I’m wishin’ I hadn’t drunk none of that whiskey so I could think clearer about what to do. Junior needs a plan. Actually, Junior needs a nap to clear his head. It ain’t the best time to be needin’ a nap but I gotta be able to think straight.

After a while I get up and hobble in there and tell Iris Mary I’m not feelin’ so great. I’m gonna go lay down.

I find her standin’ still at the stove. I think maybe she’s makin’ coffee but I don’t smell it.

She says sleep well.

I say you wanna come wit’ me? I try to make it sound like a joke.

She keeps her back to me. She says no.

I say I didn’t think so.

She don’t say nuttin’. Makes me wonder if she’s about to have one of her nervous spells—fall apart again.

I say we can go for that walk later.

She says sure, if you feel like it.

I say I’m shore I will.

She says all right.

I say Iris Mary, you’re not still mad at me, are you?

She don’t turn around to face me. She says no, I’m not mad at you.

I say what are you, then?

She don’t say nuttin’.

I say you’re not plannin’ to run off, are you?

She turns slowly to face me.

I can see tears in her eyes.

Damn!

She says it all just reminds me of the truth, Joseph—that I really have no one and no place to go.

Well, I ain’t chasin’ you out, in case you’ve noticed. I might get the red-ass now and then, but you know me—

She says I know that. But it was wrong of me to sneak in here like I did. It was wrong of me to intrude on your life.

Well, you got my sorry ass off the sofa.

Maybe you were happier on the sofa.

Trust me, I wadn’t. You the one who’s got me to try to stop drinkin’. I’m tryin’, honest. Maybe I could even go see that outfit it town—whatcha call it? Alcoholics Unanimous?

I can see Iris Mary almost smile. She says I think you mean Alcoholics Anonymous.

Whatever. That bunch.

Well, like I keep saying, that’s a decision you have to make for yourself.

Then Iris Mary looks at me with them big rabbit eyes. She says I’ve thought about my own decision and I really have to go. I—

I listen to my voice risin’ again. We been over this, Iris Mary. Go where? If all that stuff you tole me about that man is true, you prob’ly are wanted by the cops—or worse, his podnahs. And it ain’t like you can hide. If that’s all true, everybody in Catahoula Parish knows what you look like. And there ain’t nobody else who looks like you, who looks like—

Looks like what, Joseph? A freak? A ghost?

I didn’t mean it that way. You look fine to me, Iris Mary. In fack, you look awful doggone good.

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