Mark Dunn - American Decameron

“I waved the gun?”

“Yes.”

“Did I say that I wanted to shoot you with it?”

“You don’t remember?”

“I can’t remember.”

“Lloyd. You said that you were going to shoot yourself . But then you changed your mind, because you said I didn’t deserve to have Shawn and Kimberly all to myself while you were buried six feet under. That kind of talk scares the crap out of me, Lloyd. The kids need to be with me until you can get your head back on. You’re sober right now, so you should understand that.”

“I’m taking them for pizza. They’ll be here later this evening when you get Buzz to drive you down. What did you do with my gun? It needs to be under lock and key when it’s in the house.”

“It isn’t in the house. I disposed of it. I didn’t want it around anymore.”

Lloyd drove his 1989 Honda Accord coupe up the graveled drive to his neighbor’s house a half hour later. Both men were in their late thirties. Jason, like Lloyd, was a weekend farmer. Both men worked weekdays up in Southaven.

“Hey,” Lloyd said as Jason answered the door.

“Hey,” said Jason. He craned his head to see Shawn and Kimberly sitting in the car, Shawn in the passenger side bucket, Kimberly in the back. “What’s up?”

“Did Bianca bring my gun over here this morning?”

Jason’s wife Dolly appeared next to her husband. She wore a scarf and there was a smudge of something on her cheek. She’d been cleaning. “We don’t have your gun, Lloyd.”

“It isn’t Bianca’s to give away,” said Lloyd.

“It is if you’ve been waving it around scaring the daylights out of her.”

“Jason, I want my goddamned gun back. I’ve been using guns responsibly since I was fourteen. I’ll put it away.” Then to Dolly: “I was waving it around for dramatic effect. There weren’t any bullets in it.”

Jason, over his wife’s protests, went to get the gun. He placed it in Lloyd’s palm. “And here are the bullets that you said weren’t in the gun.”

Dolly could hardly speak. “Why? Why , Jason?”

“Because things aren’t going to get better until somebody starts to trust Lloyd again. Don’t let me down, Lloyd. Keep the gun away from the kids.”

Lloyd nodded. “Thanks, guy.”

He didn’t say anything to Dolly. Dolly and Bianca were good friends.

Bianca told Dolly things.

Lloyd put the gun in the glove compartment of the car. He dropped the bullets into his shirt pocket. “Don’t open the glove compartment,” he said to Shawn.

Shawn nodded. “Are we going for pizza, Dad?”

“All right.”

Lloyd took his son and daughter to a pizzeria close to home. He decided to get the pie and Cokes to go. “We’ll drive over to Arkabutla and have a twilight picnic.” The sun was going down.

It took almost twenty minutes to get to Arkabutla Lake, where Lloyd knew there would be picnic tables. The three ended up eating in the half dark and swatting at mosquitoes. Lloyd had forgotten to get napkins and Kimberly cried when she couldn’t get the tomato sauce off her face and hands.

“This was a mistake,” said Lloyd to himself.

“The pizza was good,” said Shawn.

“Let’s get back to the house. We’ll pack your bags and I’ll take you up to your Aunt Christine and Uncle Buzz’s house like your mother wants.”

“Thanks, Dad,” said Shawn.

Lloyd drove out of the picnic area. He stopped to let a truck and boat trailer pull up from the concrete boat ramp. The truck turned and drove away. But Lloyd remained parked, his motor idling. Lloyd and his son and daughter were alone now in the dark.

“She’s gonna divorce me this time,” Lloyd said. “I could spend the next year of my life at that dry-out clinic and it won’t matter. She’s gonna divorce me and take you kids with her.”

Shawn shifted nervously in his seat. “We’ll come see you, Dad.”

Lloyd stared at the spot where the inky darkness of the lake met the near-darkness of the sky. It was quiet, but he could hear the sound of the water gently lapping the bottom reach of the boat launch.

Shawn fumbled for the dome light in the car and flicked it on. He looked hard at his father’s face — a face that he didn’t recognize. Lloyd had different faces that he showed his wife and children. This wasn’t like any of them: this was the face of a man who seemed to be giving up.

“I don’t know. I just don’t know anymore.” Lloyd turned the steering wheel to the right. He put the Accord at the top of the boat ramp. “Let’s see what the bottom of the lake looks like, shall we?”

Lloyd accelerated. The car sped down the ramp, hydroplaned across the water and then settled lambently upon the surface about thirty yards from the shore. “They say most cars can float for a while.” Lloyd turned around to address his daughter. “You want to see if Daddy’s car can double as a boat?”

Shawn struggled to open the door next to him. He heard the pop of the power locks and looked to his father.

Lloyd’s voice was paternal, calm. “If you open that door, son, all the water will rush in and we’ll sink like a stone. Why don’t we just sit here and float for a while? It’s nice, isn’t it? The way the car rocks on the water.”

Shawn looked at his sister. He couldn’t tell if she was enjoying the adventure or not. A moment later, the look of puzzlement on her face turned to fear. Water began to slosh at her feet. Kimberly began to scream.

“We have to get out, Dad,” said Shawn. “We have to get out before we sink.”

“We have plenty of time.”

It was as if Lloyd couldn’t hear his daughter wailing. He held his hands at ten o’clock and two o’clock and half smiled to no one in particular. He was in a different place now — Shawn could see that. Still, he tried to reason with his father. The car tipped forward from the weight of the engine. Shawn’s tennis shoes were completely under water now. “Roll down the windows, Dad, so we can all get out.”

“What if I don’t want us to get out, son? What if I happen to think this might be better than giving you over to your bitch of a mother for the rest of your lives?”

Shawn stared at his father.

Kimberly had unfastened her seatbelt. She was trying to climb into the front seat with her brother.

Shawn turned. “Stay back there, Kimmy. I’ll get us out. Dad, roll down the window so we can all get out.” Shawn looked down at his feet. The water was rushing in faster now. His calves were nearly submerged. The car was tipping even more dramatically forward.

“All right. Don’t panic, boy. I’ll get us out through the windows. I never liked this Jap car anyway. Arkabutla can have her.” Lloyd pushed the power windows button but nothing happened. “The water’s probably shorted out the window mechanism. Recline your seat, son. I’m gonna kick out your window.” Lloyd unfastened his seatbelt and then positioned himself to kick the glass out of the passenger side front window. After several concerted blows, the glass remained intact. It didn’t shatter. It didn’t even crack. “I know the windshields are made not to break,” he panted, “but I thought it was different with the side windows. Jesus Christ.”

“What are we going to do, Dad?”

“Jesus Christ,” Lloyd said again, and gave the window another profitless kick.

The water had reached the level of the seats now. Kimberly was hysterical. Shawn was frightened as well. But Shawn was also angry. If his dad wasn’t already about to die, Shawn thought that he might kill him. He would put a bullet right through his father’s head.

Shawn looked at his father. Then he looked at the window next to his father. Ignoring his father’s previous order, he opened the glove compartment and pulled out the gun. Without saying a word, he dug his hand into his father’s shirt pocket and pulled out a bullet. He loaded the gun, disengaged the safety, and fired at the driver’s side window. The gunshot was deafening. Kimberly screamed louder as the window shattered and water began to splash in.