Stories From Separation, Texas: Second Edition by John J Asher

Stories From Separation, Texas: Second Edition by John J Asher

Author:John J Asher [Asher, John J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-07-11T04:00:00+00:00


THE NEXT DAY Sherylynne pushed idly back and forth in the porch swing inside the screened-in porch. The air was heavy and oppressive. The oscillating fan in the doorway droned under the strain. A fly buzzed, bumping screen to screen.

She saw her mother turning off the highway in the old Dodge truck, a hunched little woman, the back of her head resting on her shoulders, bony hands hanging onto the steering wheel. The truck bounced through potholes of rainwater and came to a stop near the screened porch. Her mother got out and Sherylynne was shocked at how old she looked, a withered little woman in a black pillbox hat with a faded plastic rose pinned on one side. She let herself in, hardly looking at Sherylynne, and plopped down in the wicker chair opposite. She fumbled her hat off and held it in her lap, looking vaguely discomfited.

“Well?” Sherylynne said. The inside of her lip was broken where the knife handle hit, and it hurt some when she talked.

Her mother let go a weary sigh. “Three hours in surgery.”

“And?”

“He’s gonna live. But his arm ain’t gonna be no good.”

Sherylynne nodded, not sure how she felt about that.

“Tendons to his fingers had to be tied off. He had to have some transfusions.” She gave Sherylynne a sorrowful look. “How’re you?”

“You get any rest?”

Her mother twisted her hat in her hands. “That sheriff was asking me all kinda questions.”

“Yeah, he came out here late yesterday.”

Her mother’s hands went motionless on the hat. “He did? What did you tell him?”

“I told him the truth.”

Her mother’s hands went at the hat again. “What did he say?”

“He asked if I wanted to press charges. I told him no. He said it was a possibility Farrell might try to press charges hisself, but he doubted it.”

Her mother gave a little hopeless shake of her head.

“What’re you gonna do now?” Sherylynne asked.

“Me? What can I do? Go right on, just like always.”

“You’re gonna stay here? With him?”

“What do you suggest for a old woman without no education?”

“Why don’t you sell this place. Then let’s you and me go somewhere and start over?”

Her mother stopped still and stared at her. “Sherylynne, I can’t do that. This is all I know.”

“Shoot, we could get us some good jobs and a nice place to live. Get our hair done at fancy places, some nice new clothes.”

“Sherylynne—” her mother began, but her voice broke and she took a moment to collect herself. “I just wanted you to know…well, if I could do it over, I’d make things different.”

“Different? What do you mean?”

“My life, it ain’t been what I wanted, and now…I don’t know, I wonder if I ain’t just wallowed in it. You know, too miserable to live with it, but too afraid to change anything. Sometimes I wonder if I ain’t done wrong after all.”

Sherylynne wasn’t prepared for this. She looked at her mother, a small stringy woman with a clotted red face who wore no makeup or did anything in any way to make herself attractive.



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