I’m sorry, but this place stinks, it really does, man.” Anthony could go to the clinic during the day, and everything would be normal again. “I, for one, want to go back to the Bronx.
“Yeah, yeah,” she says, “everything’s always going to be all right around this dump.” She stamps her foot on the kitchen linoleum. The social worker’ll send him home tomorrow.” If it doesn’t get him out, he spends the night in juvenile hall. Her mother looks up from the folded dollar bills and loose change in her hand. “Or maybe he took a bite out of somebody in the checkout line.” I bet Anthony swallowed a whole aisle, shelves and all.” She can’t stop herself. “He’ll probably want fifty bucks this time. And she’ll be left to clean up the mess while her mother pads around the house doing “woe is me.” Like now, checking envelopes and drawers, shaking the kitchen piggy bank, her shoulders rounded like an old woman’s. Obviously, someday Anthony’s going to eat so much he’ll split his seams like a pair of tight pants. Maria isn’t crazy about this wistful attitude.
“Maybe he’d take off a few pounds, the poor kid.” “But sometimes, God forgive me, I feel like leaving him there.” She shakes her head. “Oh, shit, what’s the use of getting upset?” Her mother sighs. Do you want me to come with you?” She talks fast, a little ashamed of the enjoyment she feels in watching her mother’s smile fade. “He’s in jail again, raided the Safeway on Dunklin this morning. “Where’s Anthony? Taking his nap?” her mother asks, patting her fluffy hairdo. Personally, Maria can do without this Garden of Eden. Life is miserable, but the air smells good. She’s always saying how pretty Jefferson City is, how the air smells so good and nobody gets raped. Her mother comes in whistling a show tune, happy as a Rockefeller. “My mother’ll come down before five.”Ĭlosing the door, she leans against it for a moment, savoring how peaceful the small house is without Anthony.
There isn’t a person in this town, man or woman, willing to sit with a nineteen-year-old, three-hundred-pound retard who eats anything he gets his hands on. “Sure,” she tells him, “we’ll get a babysitter.” Hah. Two more weeks and she’ll be out of school and long gone, whether her mother likes it or not. “Yeah, yeah, OK, we’ll work something out,” she says. She nods her head to the cop she’ll make nice to get him off the porch and out of her face. Yeah, she understands that her mother was an asshole to bring them to Missouri. “He keeps talking about wherever it was you used to live. “What I want is to stop all this shit,” he says, raising his voice and pointing a finger at her chest. You want to nail his feet to the floor, for Christ’s sake?” “Listen, man,” she says, “I have to go to class and I work, and my mother has to break her ass just to feed us, dig?” She shakes her head. She swallows angry words, the back of her throat tingling. Who takes care of him?” he asks, peering over her head into the cluttered living room. You folks are going to have to keep an eye on that boy. He was over at the Safeway on Dunklin this morning, walking up and down the rows, opening packages and eating the merchandise right then and there. “We’ve got your brother down at the station again.
#Staring at the sun anthony head free
He doesn’t even have the sense to keep one hand free to go for his gun in case of an emergency. In New York this dope couldn’t be a crossing guard. “All right, Maria,” he says, squaring his shoulders and digging into his pockets like all the cops she’s seen on TV. She squints into the afternoon sun to avoid the cop’s eyes as he leans against the open screen door.
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