Ma flipped her off as we walked by, and my stomach twisted into a knot. I gave Mary Jo a weak smile to apologize for my ma, but she was already shouting at Carl again.
“That fucking cunt thinks she knows everything. Well, she don’t have no kids. She’s got a man to take care of her. She don’t know shit.”
Ma wasn’t really talking to me, but I threaded my fingers through hers anyway and squeezed.
She glanced down at me and looked at our hands. “You’re too old to be holding my hand, aren’t you, boy?”
Something burned behind my eyes, but I shook my head. “I’m the man of the house. I can hold your hand if it means keeping you safe.”
Her face softened, and she blinked a few times. “You’re a good kid. I did a damn fine job with you.”
Around us, trailer doors slapped in the gusty wind while people rushed out to cars and pickup trucks, and shoved armloads of stuff inside them. But we kept walking. We’d get to the shelter before the storm hit, and if I was lucky, there’d be sandwiches and juice boxes like last year when they said we were getting hit with a hurricane but didn’t. Those sandwiches were even better than my school lunches, which were about as good as it got.
Even with the storm, today is a good day.
We were out of the trailer park and cutting through an empty lot across the street when I heard glass breaking.
“Shit. Looters are out,” Ma said, dropping my hand and looking around to see where the mob was.
I’d only seen looters once before, and it was on TV. They burned cars in the street and the police had to stop them. But the only siren I heard was the one warning us about the storm.
“Hopefully, the police will get them,” I said, moving toward the sidewalk that would take us up to the crossroad that led to the high school where we could take shelter.And hopefully get sandwiches.
My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten since lunch at school yesterday.
Weekends were the worst. I usually tried to save the bun from my Friday burger to eat on Saturday before I sneaked into the church up the street and stole doughnuts and juice to get me through Sunday. But this week, stupid Pat and his crew knocked the bun out of my hands as I was leaving the cafeteria, and it rolled under the trash cans. I couldn’t get it without Mrs. Evert seeing me, and she already asked too many questions about Ma and how things were going at home as it was.
I took a few steps before I stopped and looked behind me. Ma wasn’t following me anymore. She was heading the other way.Toward the mob tearing apart Charlie’s Liquor.
Crap.
I changed direction and broke into a run. “Ma, no. Wrong way. We gotta go this way. The storm’s coming.”
She looked over her shoulder at me. “And it’s bad manners to show up to a party empty-handed.”
“There’s no party! Ma!” The whipping wind stole my voice and sent her blond hair flying around her head. “Ma! Please!”
I reached out and grabbed her hand, yanking her to a stop.
Her face was completely different the second time she turned around. “You think you’re big enough to boss me around? Not yet.” She shook off my hand. “You want to go to the shelter so bad because you’re scared of the storm? Then take your own ass up there, and I’ll see you when I see you.”
I stood there, frozen in place, as she spun around and jogged toward the chaos.
She left me. To loot Charlie’s. With a mob.
I looked up at the sky, which was a wall of angry black-and-gray clouds. The wind swiped at my face, and something wet hit my cheeks. I didn’t know if it was rain or tears, and I didn’t care.
She left me.
In that empty lot, my eyes stayed locked on her until she disappeared inside.
Then the other sirens started. The police ones.
No! I have to warn her!
But I couldn’t. As soon as the mob heard the sound, they spilled out of Charlie’s into the parking lot. People were running every which way, with as many bottles as they could carry. A woman clutching something to her chest collided with a man, and they both went down.
The first police car pulled up, blocking one entrance to the street. The crowd shifted and went another way. Everyone was yelling. The police were pouring out of their cars.