Cats fucking or fighting. This horrible clash of high cacophony was a horse-drawn noose dragging Nadine from her dreams. Jesus Christ, what else could it be at\u2026 what was it, 2AM?<\/p>\n
\u201cJohn,\u201d she mumbled under duvet, comforter, blanket. \u201cJohn.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot Daddy, Momma. Me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Right. Nadine tossed back the covers and saw Dale, her son snuck in since her husband snuck out.<\/p>\n
Wind flew through their gutters and duetted concordant with that wailing.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you hear that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUh-huh,\u201d and Dale rose, sucking in a single breath. Nadine watched the boy\u2019s shoulders sag and knew they shouldn\u2019t weigh that much, not yet. Dale grabbed the black baseball bat leaning against the corner and began to fit a sock over its tip.<\/p>\n
\u201cMuffin, what\u2019re you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDaddy said I need to defend the house now that I\u2019m the man and if I put a sock over this bat, the bad guys grab the sock but not the bat. See? Then I can bash em.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nadine bared her teeth. She had learned the hard way that parenting was basically screwing up your kids as little as possible and indeed a deceptive responsibility.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, Dale, put that down.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNow.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
A shout from outside stole Dale\u2019s rebuttal and pried Nadine\u2019s eyes all the way up, for there waited bites behind those barks.<\/p>\n
\u201cGive me the bat and stay put.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMomma, relaaaax, that\u2019s just Mr. Bob.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nadine stopped to listen and found him correct. Her neighbor, a youngish widower, was raising his voice at\u2014<\/p>\n
\u201cRuby.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nadine ran for the French doors and flung them open to the cold and she only then realized that the backyard lights were ablaze and the shrieking which woke her wasn\u2019t a couple of cats but really Ruby and her violin. Sheet music had been affixed upon the woodboard deck and Ruby was sawing, sawing, sawing the strings, whatever dexterity learned during her lessons inaudible in that mad and angry slashing. And there from his blackened perch, Bob hectored Ruby as might some irate patron of the arts.<\/p>\n
\u201cHey!\u201d thundered Nadine. \u201cEasy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMiddle of the night she\u2019s out here killing me and you say easy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cClose your window, Bob.\u201d But he remained and the bitter air vaporizing his rage rendered him a disturbed dragon ready to char her child.<\/p>\n
\u201cRuby, baby, how about let\u2019s come\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
The girl played on and sliced Nadine\u2019s sentence while broken hairs from her bow danced to feral music disentwined.<\/p>\n
\u201cUnfuckinbelievable.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cClose your window, Bob!\u201d<\/p>\n
Someone somewhere yelled shut up.<\/p>\n
\u201cSweetie, please come inside. Please. I\u2019m not upset anymore, I promise, we will figure everything out in the morning. I love you, Daddy loves you, it\u2019s just\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
Ruby slid her fingers low on the neck and the instrument squealed like an infant pinched by thumb and nail. The tears standing in Nadine\u2019s ducts quivered Ruby from a soloist into a duet and she wondered how often a person could fracture before finally bursting. She ran a hand across her aging face and smelled the lingering sandalwood of John, that fucking prick, a scent now savored by someone other, and the frenzied violin exorcising her daughter\u2019s confused agony was a bedlam of melodies she\u2019d never forget.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlright, bro, fuck this.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nadine looked up as Bob clambered out of his window and landed barefoot on woodchips. Bags so purple puffed his eyes as if he\u2019d taken a beating, and in a way, he had.<\/p>\n
Bob advanced on Ruby in a flash with arms outstretched and ready to snatch just as Dale exploded from the bedroom wielding the baseball bat. Nadine\u2019s little boy swung the stick and screeched in tune with his sister\u2019s notes. Bob saw the attack coming and grabbed the weapon, only to have it slip from his grip.<\/p>\n
There was a sock dangling in Bob\u2019s hand and laughter escaped his crooked mouth, laughter which swelled into incantatory cackling as if the bereaved man was witness to the absurd machinery of all the cosmos.<\/p>\n
Dale walloped Bob\u2019s knee and a flourish from Ruby\u2019s schizophrenic violin scored his fall.<\/p>\n
\u201cDale!\u201d screamed Nadine as he hoisted the bat once again. His bony arms vibrated under its burden, and curled there on the concrete, Mr. Bob told him to do it, told him he hadn\u2019t slept right in a year, told him he thought she was back in the house playing her own violin, told him how scared shitless he got, told him he was exhausted by the absence.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you hear what I\u2019m saying?\u201d Bob asked a boy trying to be a man and of course Dale said nothing.<\/p>\n
\u201cMuffin,\u201d whispered Nadine as she crept beside Dale and took the bat. She let it clatter to the ground. Nadine swept her son into a hug. He was already too big to carry.<\/p>\n
\u201cMomma, can we call Daddy?\u201d<\/p>\n
She felt his pulse knocking her heart and was sure it would shatter.<\/p>\n
\u201cOK.\u201d<\/p>\n
So Nadine dialed John and brought the phone to her ear but Dale intercepted it. She watched her son\u2019s roving eyes lose luster as the call just rang and rang and rang. At some point Bob sat up weeping while Ruby at last concluded her concerto, the muffled refrain of John\u2019s unanswered toll loud in that new silence.<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry, Mom,\u201d Ruby said.<\/p>\n
\u201cMe too, baby,\u201d replied Nadine, the backyard shining yet as if the sun forgot to set.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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