Mostly Happy by Pam Bustin

Author:Pam Bustin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC011000, FIC043000, FIC019000
Publisher: Thistledown Press
Published: 2013-03-31T00:00:00+00:00

Three

freedom n liberty;frankness; outspokenness; unhampered boldness; separation; privileges connected with a city (often granted as a merely symbolic honour); improper familiarity; licence. [OE freo; Ger frei; ON fri] fool’s paradise n a state of happiness based on fictitious hopes or expectations. [OFr fol (Fr fou), from L follis a windbag]

— The Chambers Dictionary (Standard)

JACK’S RING

I left home near the end of grade eleven.

Goose and I had jobs at the Pinder’s Drug Store down on Broad Street. He came to pick me up for work one night and Jack broke the rules. Goose and I were in the kitchen with Prissy. We were all laughing. Goose was telling stories about having to work the cosmetics counter. He was actually better at working there than I was. He gave make-overs. Prissy asked what he could do for her and Goose said she was beautiful just the way she was. Jack came in and asked about dinner.

Prissy said, “I haven’t started yet. I’m talking to my boyfriend.”

Jack pushed her and she banged back into the cupboard.

Goose looked down at the table.

Jack left.

Prissy laughed. “Oh he’s just jealous.”

I went downstairs and started to pack.

Goose came down. He watched me toss some books in the Samsonite. “What’s going on, Bean?”

“Did you know Lorne Greene had one of his nipples bitten off by an alligator while he was host of Lorne Greene’s Wild Kingdom?”

“I did not know that.”

“Can I stay at your place?”

“Of course.” He sat on the bed. “You OK?”

“Sure.” I snapped the suitcase shut. I will be. “C’mon, we’ll be late.”

Two weeks later, I went back home to grab a few things — clothes mostly, my curling iron.

Dee was home alone. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Going.”

“Where?” She was so little. Take her, I thought. Take her take her TAKE HER!

I can’t take her — the Welfare’ll get her — I’m not old enough.

Take her!

I can’t take her — Prissy will die if I take her.

“I have to go, Dee. I’m leaving. I left two weeks ago. Didn’t you notice?” Christ.

TAKE HER!

Dee’s lip trembled. “I just thought you were busy at school and work. I just thought you were coming home real late. Jack says he’s gonna skin you when he sees you. He says — ”

I cut her off, “I’m staying with Goose.”

She started to cry. “Don’t go Bean.”

Shit. You can’t leave. He wins if you leave.

I pushed the hair out of her eyes.

One of us will die if I stay. I will kill him or he will kill me. He will kill Prissy. I can’t stay. He broke the rule. Never touch us in front of others — Never ever never ever never ever . . .

But a push — not a hit. That’s not so bad.

No. A broken rule a broken rule — house comes tumbling down.

I hugged Dee and left.

I saw a glint on the kitchen table. Jack’s ring. I took it.

That night, after bingo, Prissy called. She wanted me to come home. I said I couldn’t.

She said, “What about me and Dee?”

I said, “That’s gotta be up to you.

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