“Then Daddy stood up. The ugliest curse words flew out of his mouth. Alvin ran outside. I was too scared to move. I started to cry. Daddy grabbed my arm and squeezed it so hard I felt my blood stick in my veins. He yanked me up.”
Oil Can rubbed his shoulder. “When I tried to break loose the old man laughed. Called me pitiful, a blubbering little fool. He finally let go. Lord, I don’t know where I got the guts, but I remember what I did clear as anything.”
“I’ll show you who’s pitiful,” I said. “Next thing I knew I’d kicked him straight on in his knee. He rocked backwards and his head hit the edge of the table before he crashed to the floor. ‘No one’s ever going to call me a reject, I said.’ By the time I’d come to my senses I was scared to death that man was going to kill me. But he just lay there, rubbed his head and moaned. Figured he was passed out drunk. His arms were spread wide and his head had flopped to the side.”
“I went for the door, hoping I could find Alvin. I heard Daddy mumbling. ‘Go on. Run away you coward. You’ll be running your whole stupid life.’ Those were the last words my daddy ever spoke. My daddy died the next morning, on my birthday. I wasn’t sorry.”
The kitchen was so silent for a minute I couldn’t even hear my own breathing.
Oil Can ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes darted side to side. “I don’t know why I told you that. The part about my daddy, I mean. Never told anyone that story before.”
I swallowed hard. “That’s horrible. You must have hated living there.” I barely whispered those words.
Oil Can looked out the window. A soft smile crossed his craggy face. “Oh no. I loved that island. I can still smell the salt marsh. And, sometimes in my dreams, I see the egrets and herons and watch the sun set into the water behind the river oaks. It was magical,” he said, then shook his head and snapped out of his trance. He pointed to the clock. “Time’s up.”
I tried to ask another question, but he repeated, “times up.”
The magic had ended, at least for now.
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