Russell Banks - Rule of the Bone

I guess so, I said. But maybe if he’d been able to get to know me a little he’d’ve been more willing to kick in and help pay for things. The way it is now he’d be busted if he tried to even see me, I said.

You better believe it, mister! Grandma said. She could get fierce when she wanted to, a regular wolf in grandmother’s clothing. And you should be more appreciative of everything your mother’s done for you, she said. And Ken, him too. He’s been more of a father to you than your real father ever was.

Oh yeah, wow, fucking A, man! Dear old Daddy Ken, I almost forgot about what a great guy he’s been all my life. Thanks for reminding me, man, I said and I was up and stomping around now wanting to knock something over, wanting to trash the place or start tossing all the furniture out the window and see it break down on the sidewalk so I figured I’d better get the hell out of there before I did something that I’d really regret afterwards because I didn’t want to hurt my grandmother or harsh on her too much or wreck any of her stuff. She didn’t know any better than to be the way she was.

Look, I gotta get outa here, Grandma, I said to her and grabbed up my backpack and tied my doo-rag back on which had dried out on the radiator while we were talking.

She was wringing her hands and all, saying how she hoped she hadn’t upset me with all this talk about my father and I said no way and if it was up to me I’d go to Jamaica or wherever tomorrow and find him if I could because I had a few things he might be interested in hearing. Stuff about my stepfather, I said to her.

That lit up her screen. Really? she said. About Ken? Like what?

I smiled at her and said, Wouldn’t you like to know. Hang in there, Granny, I said. If things work out you may end up living in Mom’s house with her after all.

She smiled in that innocent way of hers and she goes, Well, I did point out how they had an extra bedroom now. With you gone, I mean.

Yeah, well, don’t worry, I’ll stay gone. The place needs a little bit of a clean-up though, I said. I gave her a kiss on the cheek and went down the ratty old smelly hallway to the stairs and down the stairs to the street. I couldn’t much blame her for wanting to get out of that place and my mom was an incredible wuss to be staying there with her. The whole scene gave me the creeps.

Out on the street it was almost dark and the rain was still coming down. I didn’t put out my thumb or look for a ride or anything though, I just walked straight out of town and along the side of Route 9N toward Plattsburgh. With my luck if I hitched I’d get picked up by Russ or the Bong Brothers, or maybe the Ridgeways in their Saab or why not ol’ Buster Brown in his church van? Better to walk all night long in the rain if that’s the only way to get back to the bus and I-Man. Besides I had plenty of new stuff to think about now, especially about me and my real father.

I’d say the night that I walked out of Au Sable forever in the rain was one of the weirdest nights of my life except that nothing happened. Plus later I went through some even weirder nights and of course I’d already experienced quite a few by then that not many normal people go through, due to drugs and the bikers and some of the stuff maybe that me and Russ’d done together like at the Ridgeways’ summerhouse in Keene. But even though nothing was happening it was only on the outside because inside I was like tripping only I wasn’t high or anything.

After a while I didn’t think about my real father and me anymore because there wasn’t enough real information to feed my thoughts so to speak. It was like my brain ran out of things to say to me. I was walking along 9N on the shoulder of the road in the darkness with the rain pouring down on me stepping steadily straight ahead like I was marching to the edge of the planet so I could drop right off it into cold black empty space. My mind was empty and my body was this machine that walked. Every once in a while a car or a truck would go by and catch me in the lights and slow down to check me out and a couple of times drivers stopped and rolled down the window and said did I want a ride but I kept on moving so they probably figured I was just a stoned freaked-out kid or a mass murderer or something and went on their way.

I actually kind of was a mass murderer. Boy slays family and self. I’d started having these incredibly realistic visions of firing my niner at my stepfather, shooting him in the right temple from about six inches away while I stood with my foot on his neck and him lying on the floor begging me not to. It was pretty vivid, with blood and brains splashing over my foot and all.

And then my mom comes into the room, it’s my old bedroom at home and she sees what’s happened to Ken and me with the gun and blood spattered all over my pantsleg and sandal from where I had placed it on his neck and my hands from holding the gun so close to his head when I fired, and she takes off down the hall and I go after her and catch her as she gets to the door only it’s locked and she can’t get it open in time so she goes, No, Chappie, don’t!

I do though. I give her one straight in the heart. It was like in a video game only real.

I looked out the livingroom window and there was Grandma coming up the walk so I opened the door for her and she came inside and saw my mom lying there with blood all over her chest and her eyes rolled back and her mouth open with blood bubbling out and Grandma says, What’s going on? and that’s when I blast her too. In the heart, same as my mom.

Afterwards I walked around the house for a while calling Willie and finally I remembered that he was dead too and it was Ken who ran over him and then I realized that if ol’ Willie was still alive maybe none of this would’ve happened. It’s amazing but all I needed was that little black and white cat who really liked me and I probably wouldn’t have slain my family. He only weighed nine or ten pounds, about like a bag of sugar and he couldn’t talk or anything but it was like there was the concentration of a person inside his furry head who truly liked me and was always sincerely glad to see me when I came home and slept on my lap whenever I stayed up late alone watching MTV and purred with contentment like I made him feel safe in a dangerous world.

I remembered the time I got Ken’s.22 rifle with the scope out of the case that was stashed in his and my mom’s bedroom closet and aimed it at Willie and pulled the trigger but the safety was on and it didn’t fire so I used the gun to shoot up Ken’s and my mom’s bed instead. I felt incredibly guilty then for almost killing Willie. Sometimes I guess you do a bad thing in order not to do a worse thing that you can’t stop yourself from doing. Boy slays cat and self they would’ve said if that day Ken’s.22 hadn’t had the safety on. Ken and Mom and Grandma would’ve been okay and even would’ve gone to the funeral and after that normal life would’ve resumed for them.

Lucky for Willie I guess, even though he bought it later. But unlucky for them because now I’d ended up doing the worst thing instead of only the bad thing. It was like being inside a snuff video on the VCR and watching it at the same time with a remote in my hand and I could play the same three scenes over and over, noticing new details each time, pressing Rewind after I whacked Grandma— she gets up and goes backwards out the door and down the steps to the street and Mom stands up and yanks on the locked door and then comes toward me down the hall with her back facing me like we’re playing blindman’s buff when suddenly she turns and sees Ken on the floor his head all bloody and I stand up and put the gun into my backpack and by this time Ken is slipping back out the bedroom door— and then pressing Play and now I notice when he comes sneaking into my bedroom that Ken’s wearing only his bikini underpants and he’s got a boner and that glazed boozy look in his eyes that makes me feel like bread dough, and my mom’s first reaction actually is to be pissed off at me for making such a mess and firing off a gun inside the house instead of for what in reality I’ve gone and done with it, killed her husband, and my grandma’s first thought I can tell from her face when she sees that my mom’s lying dead on the floor is that maybe she’ll get something out of it for herself, the house even.