The Children and the Wolves (12 page)

I shook my head.

I really wanted some food but I knew I couldn’t eat. It would’ve made me puke.

I said, Will you take her?

He looked pretty confused when I asked him that.

He was like,
Take
her? Take her where?
Inside, I said. Take her inside.

Then he looked at her and looked at me and got even more confused.

He said, It’s Wiggins, right?

I nodded. I couldn’t hold the box much longer.

The Poet said, What exactly is going on here, Wiggins?
Please, I said. Just take her. She needs someone. She’s sick.

Then the Poet squatted down so he was face-to-face with her. His head was huge next to hers. Then he felt her forehead and looked at his hand.

He said, Would you like to come inside, Froggy?
Just Frog, I said.
Would you like to come inside, Frog?

She looked at me. I nodded at her and then to the Poet she said, Is your dog a woof?
No, he’s just a dog, he answered.

Then he offered his hand and she took it.

Here, I said, pushing the box toward him. She’s really good at the game. She’s about to solve it.

He took the box and then the Frog hugged me but I made her stop.

She’s allergic to nuts, I told the Poet. No nuts or she’ll die.

Then to the Frog I said, Be good. Don’t get punished.

Then I pushed her away from me and told the Poet to get a gun.

Why should I get a gun? he asked.
For protection, I said. For battling.

And then I turnt to walk away.

You sure you’re okay? the Poet called to me.

But I kept walking.

His voice had a niceness in it.

His voice had a niceness and I knew he would be good to the Frog.

*  *  *

I walked all the way back to Dumas on Frontage Road. There were some birds flying over me and I kept thinking they might attack but they didn’t.

I think birds and refrigerators got something going on. Some sort of wickedness. I don’t like birds and I don’t like refrigerators. There will always be a battle between me and them. A battle of badnesses.

When I walked back across the dirt field I got on the bus that goes to the hospital. It’s called the Big Blue bus and it’s big and blue and you get on it at Six Mile Road, near where this hotdog stand got burnt down by some Crips.

All these old people were on the bus. They were holding onto canes and metal walkers and they looked like they were barely breathing. Like they were all traveling to some place to get more air put in their bodies. Most of them were sleepy-eyed niggers but some were Mexicans and there was also a old Pakistanical man who kept making a face like he was meowing.

I tried to give the bus driver my forty dollars but he just looked at me like I was crazy and told me to sit down.

Where you goin? he asked.
To the hospital, I said.
Take a seat, he said. Next time bring change.

Through the bus window Dumas looked dirty and gray and you could smell the nastiness coming in through the window. Mostly garbage smells. But also fish smells and dirty toilet smells and fast food smells and dead people smells.

The fast food smells are the only smells I like. Especially barbecue fast food like Arby’s.

When we passed the church where Dirty Diana took me after my dad left I started thinking about this time when I wanted to grow up to be a cowboy. Like four or five years ago. Dirty Diana bought me a big hat and some boots. I used to sleep with them in my bed and I would dream about cows and horses and cactuses.

Once I got asked this question by a guidance counselor at Tom Toomer. His name was Mr. Berg and he hardly opened his mouth when he spoke.

He said, Wiggins, what do want to do with your life?
I said, I used to want to be a cowboy.
He was like, But you don’t anymore?
No, I said. Not no more.
Why not? he asked.

The only thing I could think of to say was, Cause they don’t got the Internet.

*  *  *

At the hospital I showed the woman at the front desk the newspaper article about Takada Flowers.

She said, Are you one of Ms. Flowers’ case children?

I nodded.

Then she called someone on her phone and another nurse came out and got me and took me to her room. The nurse was really tall and smelled like bleach.

Do you have a fungus? I asked her.
I don’t think so, she said. Why?
But I didn’t answer her.

When we entered Takada Flowers’ room there was a old nigger man sitting next to her bed. He was reading the Bible. He looked up at me when I entered.

It was nice and cool in the room. I thought if I got hurt and had to go to the hospital at least there’d be air conditioning.

She’s not conscious, the nurse explained.

She said her head wounds were very severe and to not touch her and then she left me there with the old nigger.

Her head was all bandaged and there was a tube in her nose and some plastic bags hanging over her on a metal rack. One had silverish liquid and another had yellowish liquid. I kept staring at them. For some reason I thought maybe you could put a goldfish in each one and this would somehow help battle a fungus. The goldfish would battle it better than bleach would.

The old nigger said, You one of Takada’s boys?

His voice was deep and tired.

I nodded.

He said, She’s always talkin about her boys. How much she loves you all. White boys, black boys, Mexican boys. Don’t matter to her.

I just kept looking at her face. It was really swelled up. The machines next to her were beeping and making little lights.

Take a seat, the old nigger said, and pushed a chair at me.

I sat.

I was like three feet away from him and I could smell him. I could smell how sad he was cause the body makes a smell when it’s sad. I know about this cause Dirty Diana has it too. Sometimes you can smell it coming off the couch. I used to think she smelled like a nigger but I think she’s just mostly sad.

I said, Is she gonna be okay?
He closed his Bible and went, Don’t know. Doctor said she might have some serious damage. What we do know is that she’s gonna be blind. We learned that a few hours ago. Might be deaf, too. But there’s no way to tell till the swelling goes down.

I thought he was gonna cry but he cleared his throat and swallowed.

Then he went, Don’t make any sense if you ask me. The Lord puts a good woman like Takada on the earth — a woman who does nothing but help people — and look what happens to her.

He shook his head a few times.

He said, Old Testament says someone’s sposed to pay for some stuff like that. Eye for an eye. Tooth for a tooth. It’s right here in the book.

I must have looked stupid cause he was like, You understand what I’m sayin, son?

I nodded.

Then I said, Are you her husband?
I’m her father, he said. No parent should ever see their child suffer like this. Sposed to be the other way around.

The machines beeped a little. Some nurses past by the door. I suddenly felt itchy and even sicker with yellow.

He said, Do you have a daddy?

I nodded.

He said, Then he knows what I’m talking about. I promise you he does.

He was in the war, I told him. He was a ranger in the war.
Where is he now? he asked.
I said, He ain’t nowhere.
The old nigger man said, Did he die?
No, I said.
He never came home? he asked.
He came home, I said. But then he left.
He said, How old were you?
I was little.
He said, I’m very sorry to hear that.

He looked real tired like he could fall asleep right there in the chair. I kept thinking he was gonna drop his Bible.

He said, So you live with your mother?

I nodded.

What does she do? he asked.
She’s a nurse, I said.
Do she work at this hospital? he asked.
I think so, I said. But she’s not here now.
He went, She got the night off?
I said, She’s in a waterfall. It’s voluminous.

I think that confused him cause he stopped asking questions.

Maybe he could see the yellow creeping in me?

Maybe he could see all the badness?

Then he looked at his daughter for a long time and said, If you don’t mind, I’m gonna pray now.

I nodded and then he went to his knees and made a church fist and put his head on it.

I just stood over Takada Flowers. I just stood there standing.

Everything smelled clean and good and without fungus. Like no badness could happen to her. They got so much bleach in the hospital, I thought. They must have like hundreds and thousands of gallons of it.

Then I whispered I was sorry to her.

Sorry, I whispered. Sorry, Takada Flowers.

I whispered it real soft so nobody could hear.

I stood real close to her and watched her dad on the floor, praying into his fist.

I was gonna say goodbye to him but I didn’t want to disturb his praying so I opened Takada Flowers’ hand and gave her her gold tooth back.

I put it right in her palm and closed her fingers around it.

*  *  *

When I got home it was almost six o’clock. It was so hot in the apartment I opened the fridge and sat in front of it for a while. My hands were trembling.

There were salad dressings and a red apple and a package of baloney and a box of Velveeta cheese.

The fridge was humming its weirdness but I wasn’t scared no more and I even told it so.

I ain’t scared of you no more, I said.

You and the birds ain’t shit, I told it.

At six fifteen I left a note for Miggy on the kitchen table.

It said:

Then I packed my Tom Toomer gym bag.

I packed some toothpaste and some soap and a toothbrush and like five pairs of underwear and some socks and a few T-shirts and some jeans and a hoody.

And then I walked across Piano Road and headed right for the yellow condos.

When I walked past Orange’s house I thought Bounce’s car might be in the driveway but it wasn’t. Only Mr. Merlo’s car was there. One of its tires had been slashed and I couldn’t decide if Orange or Bounce did it.

I imagined Orange in his dad’s wheelchair, his leg bandaged, Mr. Merlo lying on the living room floor. The TV on NASCAR or Dancing with the Stars.

I walked around the house and through the little backyard with the dandelions and the electricity meter.

I didn’t bother looking back through the patio doors — I just kept walking right into the woods.

I walked deep into the thickest part.

The trees smelled clean and good and it was cooler there than the rest of the world.

When my legs could go no further I found a good tree and I sat under it. It was good to finally rest.

I forgot about being hungry and I forgot about needing anything.

I forgot about Dirty Diana and Cortina and my dad being nowhere.

And then I took off my watch and buried it in the dirt.

*  *  *

When the night came I took out my knife and held it close.

I opened it so the blade was flat against me.

There were the sounds of birds crying and the sounds of snakes slithering and the sounds of animals rustling around like children in the trash.

The mosquitoes were buzzing and the spiders were spidering and I could feel all the creatures in the woods creeping closer.

And much later, in the middle of the dark, I could hear the first fires crackling and the voices of men.