Rule of the Bone (1995) by Russell Banks

Author:Russell Banks [Banks, Russell]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperPerennial
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

RED ROVER

By the time I got to the clinic I’d gone all trembly and loose in the limbs. Even my jaw hung down and my mouth was open like I’d been shocked by the sight of something awful, a way bad accident or a bloody crime and I suppose I was. My hands were wet and my knees felt watery and I was afraid I was going to flip out if anybody looked at me the wrong way like with suspicion or even a hint of disrespect. And I was dangerous, wicked dangerous because after the deal back at the house with Ken I was aware now that I was carrying chrome, I was a dude with a loaded niner in his backpack who could start blasting if he wanted to and who could blast an actual person and not just some rich guy’s view of the mountains. For the first time I understood how these pissed-off ex-employees or some divorced guy who didn’t get child custody can walk into a post office or a Pizza Hut full of people and pull out his heater and start firing and not give a shit who gets hit. I didn’t want to do anything like that of course but I felt like if one little thing went wrong in the next hour or two I wouldn’t be able to stop myself, that’s how far gone I was on account of my stepfather and the collapsed situation at our house and family and the fact that ol’ Willie was dead and no one seemed to give a shit and I was trying to come home again but no one seemed to quite get that either, not even me.

The clinic is a low brick building at the edge of town near the ballfield where there was a Little League game going and some parents sitting in the bleachers watching like it was the World Series so nobody noticed me when I walked by. I almost felt invisible or like I was watching a movie with me in it even when somebody passed me on the sidewalk or drove past on the street. Everything was weirdly normal except for the storm coming up and the trees swirling around in the wind.

The waiting room at the clinic was empty of customers and silent like a morgue, spooky. I walked up to the receptionist, this blond mound of renown around town named Cherie who I knew by her reputation from guys but also slightly from before when she used to come around the house with my mom after work sometimes for a beer, and I said, Is my mom here?

She slowly looked up from the People magazine she was reading and said, Huh?

My mom. Is she here? I wanna talk with her, man.

Who’s your mom? she asked evidently not recognizing me on account of my hair grown back and no more mohawk or nose rings and earrings which in the past’d kept people from actually looking at me and seeing my face for what it was which was the whole point of course.

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