POWER BACK

Chapter 42: The Mighty Rio Grande

Chapter 42: The Mighty Rio Grande

March

When I was only nine, my father had packed his life up in two suitcases.

About a year later, they reappeared on the porch just outside the front door.

I'd heard a truck, saw the lights flashing through my bedroom window, so I went out to see if Joe had finally returned.

But it wasn't Joe. It was my dad.

He stood in the dark entryway where Ma left a candle burning. She'd fallen asleep on the sofa. Ever since my father had gone, I often found her there at night instead of in her own bed.

He stared at me from across the room as I stood protectively over my mother.

"Hey, Jack," he said, gruffly.

I wouldn't answer. I nodded and turned to go into the kitchen.

My dad followed and took two glasses out of the kitchen cabinet. I watched as my father opened the refrigerator, removed the milk carton, and filled the glasses.

"Your ma makes the best chocolate chip cookies," he said, arranging them on a small dish where I sat at the counter. Then he chose one, broke it in half, and dipped it in milk before taking a bite. He pushed the plate closer to me, but I wouldn't accept the offer.

"I missed these cookies," my father said, softly. "I missed everything, come to think of it."

Ma stirred, woke, and sat up on the couch. "Eli? You're here. I must have dozed."

"It's alright, Maddy. Jack and I were just catching up. Bit of a one-sided conversation, actually. Seems like he don't have much to say to me these days."

I prickled at the irritated tone in my father's voice. The edge that came just before the anger. The rage.

The front door creaked open, and Joe walked into the house.

"Joe," Dad said flatly.

"Oh. It is you. Damn," Joe replied.

"It's awfully late," Dad said.

Ma crossed her arms over her chest. Her face was impassive, watchful.

"Yeah, it is awfully late for you to come a calling," Joe said.

"I'm not visiting. I've come home. For good."

Joe glared at our mother and shook his head. "Fuck this," he said through gritted teeth before turning and stalking down the hallway.

I hopped down off the stool and followed my brother. I watched him take the satchel out of the closet and fill it. Boots, flannels, jeans, tee-shirts, underwear. He threw in a couple of ballcaps and then put on his cowboy hat.

"Whatcha doing, Joe?"

"Leaving, chief. Can't stay here no more, not now he's come back. There's only room for one of us in this house."

"There's lots of room, Joe."

"Nah. Not for two tempers the size of ours. We'd have to build a new wing."

"Joe," I said with tears in my eyes, "please don't go."

"What's all that racket y'all are making?" Jake said from his bunk.

"Go back to sleep, Golden Boy."

"He's leaving, Jake," I whispered.

"Don't let the door hit ya in the ass on your way out," was all Jake said.