ofthehands - Tumblr blog

ofthehands · 2 months ago

Text

Carbolic acid, and a poison face

wordcount: ~7,500

warnings: abuse, physical abuse like slapping and beating, verbal abuse, period typical ableism, incorrect disability terminology, mean-spirited, cannibalism, unknowing cannibalism (tricking into eating people meat), Drayton Sawyer is his own warning.

description: A bond between the Hardesty’s mother, and Drayton, on account of Franklin’s condition. Spina Bifida is thought to be influenced by certain nutrients, including liver enzymes. Let’s say she knew this, and came to the best traders of meat in town; her neighbors, the Sawyers.

Idea proposed by my buddy Leslie over at @pierrot-fish! Thank you for giving me permission to write this based on your thoughts!!

Also on ao3!

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The first time anybody realized the Sawyer twins had no sense of what spelled danger, was as soon as they started on walkin’.

First time Drayton found their little cots empty, he just ran. He knew damn well they couldn’t be far, little fuckers still toddling ‘round barely long enough to cross one room. Was halfway between impressed and scared shitless to find them outside. The stronger of the two trying to drag his brother on his knees to the sunflowers to play.

Took ‘em ‘til they were past toddlerhood to get that far, still babbling nonsense but easing into all the affairs usual for almost three year olds. Makes perfect sense the second they was mobile they’d take off for more fun than a couple cloth dolls and wooden figurines could give ‘em. Adventure. ‘Bout to drive Drayton plum fuckin’ crazy with their adventures.

That particular instance knocked his sense out with anxiety so bad he didn’t even beat ‘em for it, just took ‘em back to bed and blocked their door with a few railroad ties and a ratchet strap around the handle.

Give ‘em a few years and he’d take those diapered little bastards over the worse hellions they become any day. ‘Stead of runnin’ off for the at least fenced in backyard, they’s makin’ for the road by five years old.

Their daddy took the same high road and left, just as quick as Drayton’s had, but it don’t seem right, that it’d be instinct to run off in the street. ‘Bout then they hafta admit them boys in general ain’t right.

Drayton’s the first baby of the fam’ly, but he knows from the stories mama tells what they s’posed to act like. Knows better from watchin’ folks ‘round Newt with’n their little ones. Prob’ly seems all kinds ‘a wise, but he’s just the observer- “stay quiet boy!” more’n well instilled in him.

Damn it he knows he’s stubborn, won’t give up that strong arm he were raised up with, but he likes to think he’s easy on them twin boys. When one of ‘em starts screamin’ their head off ‘cause it’s too dark inside the house an’ their itchin’ at their arms an’ worse, they get these headaches ‘hind their eyes, he takes ‘em out to burn off steam.

Won’t never take an eye off them when he ain’t at work, the only time mama or grandma’ll take over that role. That’d just be askin’ for some kinda accident, endin’ in two tiny caskets. Can’t do that again. Bury another kid. Mama done that enough, all her unfortunate pregnancies.

Out front is where the boys like best, ‘cause it’s got room to kick up dust from the driveway. Nubbins is still unsteady on his feet, bumblin’ ‘round like some kind of a deer with brainrot, but his brother’s runnin’ ‘round him in circles, some made up game prob’ly.

In the corner of his eye, he sees movement, figures it to be mama at first returnin’ from wherever the hell she been off to ‘fore the sun shown itself this mornin’. Flash of blondish-hair tells ‘im it ain’t.

Got a good knife for skinnin’ next to him on the stoop, crawlin’ his hands toward it slow-like fore he freezes entirely. Just the neighbor woman, swollen up pregnant from the looks of it, creeps her way forward, ignoring the boys past a faint smile. Hard, when they’re both squealin’ like hogs, but she manages. She’s gunnin’ straight for Drayton on some mission she’d already decided.

“Mr Sawyer? I don’t hope to be a bother, intrudin’ and all-“

“Don’t call me that-” Drayton touts, on the defense, before he catches himself. Clearing his throat halfway through, he stiffens out, feigning pleasantries, “Pardon. My grandfather, he’s the man of the house. Ain’t got enough wisdom goin’ ‘round to be callin’ myself by no honor-ifics. You- You call me Drayton now, ma’am.”

Neighbor woman gives him a nod, but it’s soft around the edges, ain’t a commitment. “Alright, Drayton then. You might know me as your next door neighbor. Mister Enright’s daughter.”

Wary, Drayton tries to get a glimpse at her cards ‘fore she plays ‘em.

“I know your business anyhow. Was our meat kept Newt from sinkin’, but I figure it’s y’all with the- the wool trade and the plants y’all got, that’s what’s doin’ any good.”

Much as he might hate the playin’ nice with strange folk, he’ll always hate the killin’ worse, so he’ll keep doin’ it. Prob’ly makes him seem honest anyhow, talkin’ down on his own trade like that, though this Enright girl don’t know the details she thinks she does.

“Oh, it hardly brings money.” She waves it away, hand coming to sit at the junction of her belly. Guess he assessed it right then, that she’s with child.

“Don’t I know it. That slaughterhouse, it’s rotten work, miss. Cain’t never scrub clean of it. Don’t like it, but it’s gotta be done. Way of the world, I s’pose.”

“That’s exactly why I’m here Mister- um.. Drayton.”

Now that certainly gives him pause. Goes stiff as a bloated corpse himself, “No, no, no ain’t a woman’s- Don’t mean no disrespect- my grandmother, this business put her through Hell, workin’ her til’ her bones was as weak as the beeves after their bout in the freezer. Women-folks is good for that kind of ruin.”

“No, I’m not looking for work. You see I’m with child-“ If she heard Drayton scoff, on account of already knowin’ such, she ignores it, feedin’ him the explanation she’d clearly done practiced, “My baby, they’ve done all sorts of tests on me, and they think my little one’s gonna be brought up sick.”

Ain’t gonna lie and say that doesn’t remind him of his own brothers. The gaunt little creatures they always‘ve been. Mama’s mama took one look at the shape of her belly and knew they was tangled up in there wrong, and what d’ya know, nine months later one of em come out with the damn cord ‘round his throat. Figure gettin’ an actual hospital involved oughta be even more of a science by now.

“..That right?”

Frazzled woman she is, starts a ramblin’, “Yessir. There’s this curse on our family, been around since at least my dear great auntie. Spina Bifida they call it. I don’t want my baby to be that way. We bless the memory of the others with it and love ‘em every day but, it’s the pain I want to avoid for my little one. Oh Drayton, could you imagine the fear of losin’ your boys before you even knew ‘em?”

This time his scoff is more like a barely choked back laugh. “My boys? You think them rotten twins is my boys. Woman you’re mistaken outright, those are-“

“Your brothers. Yessir, I understand that much, but it’s you raised ‘em up so well. I remember hearin’ their wailing from down the way, look at ‘em now and you’d never know what they went through. That’s what I want for my baby.” She pleads with him, reaching both of her hands for one of his.

Drayton lets her hold ‘em there for a moment, before slipping out of her grasp. His arms curl into his body like a mantis, easing off the greasy feelin’ of skin to skin contact on his dry cotton shirt.

“I don’t s’pose you think I got some fancy medical degree.”

At first she seems baffled, until it hits her she never finished her explanation before lettin’ her emotions build up too far, “I’m here about the meat, remember? They say it’s something with the liver that’s low. My body is deprivin’ the baby as it is. Some essential parts from the meat might help. And I’d like to buy some from y’all here.”

“Well that, I can do. Yes, ma’am.”

Out of that little request comes a deal, and a friendship.

It surprises Drayton that she keeps comin’ back, after skippin’ off with her prize in crumpled brown butcher paper the first time. Figures it’s either helpin’, or she’s convincin’ herself it is, to come back and deal with his attempts at social interaction. Not like socializin’ is easy when for him, it usually ends in untimely demise.

As far as his expectations, this arrangement only gonna last ‘til the end of her nine months, and considerin’ she was halfway along when they first met, it ain’t too long now.

The hope is just that it ain’t too late, gettin’ these things in her body to save that little baby.

Next couple times she comes, he learns her name is Gloria. She crochets tiny sized blankets and clothes to decorate a baby’s nursery in her free time. And she don’t have any intentions of just takin’ her medicine and leavin’ well enough alone.

It’d damn be rude to turn her comp’ny away. Plus it don’t hurt to have a hand with the boys, since ain’t another Sawyer gonna lift a finger to do it. Only one that would is Gramma and she’s been gone, at least mentally, a while now, bless her heart.

Gloria wasn’t trained on dolls the way plenty of little girls is how to change diapers and mix bottles and all that, or maybe that’s her excuse to spend more and more time over the house and practice it on the twins.

Probably so, since Drayton clues in on a secret- This far along, she’s gettin’ antsy for peace.

A fine hair brush in her hand, she’s tendin to the twins’ hair after they got into the jagger bush and got it all tangled up. But she’s talking to Drayton while she works it through, “You sir, don't seem like you’ve ever been afraid of anythin’.”

“Missy, been afraid so long I don’t got nothin’ to show for it.” He kicks at little Robert’s tiny boot gently as he goes to sit down, but the boy lunges up to retaliate, wailing on Drayton’s shin with tiny toddler fists and screamin’ nonsense. The adults ignore it except for adjusting their volume, “‘Tween the boys poppin’ out with no heartbeats to fightin’ every day to keep ‘em goin’, jus’ don’t think I feel much at all no more.”

“Was hopin’ you’d say somethin’ a little less glum. Is that selfish?” There's these deep purple halos of exhaustion under her eyes. Drayton looks away from her when she looks up at him and downright pleads, “I just can’t do it alone.”

Feels wrong, somethin’ about bein’ civil with her at all, let alone bein’ her shrink. But the girl’s got a good heart and Drayton knows he’d be a damn fool to bruise it on purpose ‘stead of bein’ a friend. Still, a little distance is customary.

“Hell, now you got yourself a brother or two and a nice little husband. A mama and a papa too. You’re set, little lady, don’t wanna know nothin’ about ‘alone.’”

She sends Nubbins along and calls Robert back from his battle his big brother’s attention, brushing through his hair next. Each tangle that manages to undo is like another tug at the plug keepin’ all her worries welled in, “I’m still the only one carryin’ this little one. And when my baby is born, if this didn’t fix it... I don’t know.. I’m half convinced they’ll reach right on up in me and take away my chance at ever havin’ a second child if I mess this one up.”

An idea so ridiculous strikes Drayton he downright chuckles, “Get my mama as your midwife ‘n there’ll be shotguns up their asses ‘fore they could even try all that.”

Gloria seems to take it serious, “But she knows what it’s like. Maybe it could be for the best.”

“Mama don’t actually know a damned thing about parenting her own childr’n. Stand up for just about anyone, ‘cept her own little boys. Best you can do is promise me now, girl, you ain’t gonna treat yours that way.” Was it bitterness and anger that caused the wobble in his words, addin’ years to his voice that he ain’t even lived yet? That and a little bit of grief over what he never had.

“Not ever. I wouldn’t be livin’ off half raw beef livers and about ten glasses of orange juice a day if I felt that way.” When Gloria promises it, he knows it’s true. That girl couldn’t lie if she had to. “I really am tryin’. I’ll be honest and say, if it weren’t for the desperation I wouldn’t have bothered comin’ out this far. Long time ago your grandfather made it clear we wasn’t to trespass.”

‘Course he would. Don’t got much say on the matter now without the strength to get up outta his chair. Drayton waves it off, “Grandpa don’t know what he’s talkin’ bout neither. You jus’ keep on. Eat the soft parts, the fillin’s, ‘n your body gonna be alright. I always say the parts that goes to waste is the best of it anyhow, folks just like the feel of that other stuff.”

“Lord, I see why. how do y’all keep that down on the regular?”

“Well I could give you the recipe book… Or- Hell, woman you’re ‘bout burstin’, the hell’s I thinkin’- I’ll fix somethin’ special up for ya, get that little one strong. Don’t got long now ‘til it’s here.”

Her faint smile slips away further ‘til her expression is mostly a grimace. “Don’t I know it, God almighty.”

“You religious, huh?” Drayton wonders before his sense can kick in to remind him it’s inappropriate to ask that. His attention slips down to the floor, to the game his brothers started playin’ with their hands, to avoid looking at her, in the case that she gets all offended.

It’s well known the Enrights are Godly folk, probably why Grandpa was so curt with them those years back. The Sawyers seen it as a fairy tale all along, refusing to fill their children’s heads with such things. All they believe in is the power of the sledge, though miss Gloria Enright probably counts as a convert of that belief, since she’s the one eatin’ the gizzards for the sake of her child.

And it’s true she ain’t as devout to the Lord as the rest of her family, giving a bashful sort of shrug, “Not the way you’d think. Not the way the others is.”

“Smart girl.” He gives the faintest smile, voice lilted with a special bit of pride. Good to know she’s gonna hold her own even after this kid is born and she’s on her own again.

But it seems to shock her, when she ain’t bein’ talked town to after admitting that defiance. She questions, “You don’t believe?”

The twins get up and run off, losing any sense of interest in sitting around listening to this, even though the hairbrush is still tangled up in Bobby’s inky hair. Drayton hears one of them coughin’ through their laughter in the next room over, wheezin’ when he tries to scream with the other. Makes up his mind perfectly well, “Can’t. Could never grasp why any child would be afflicted that way if the man upstairs could help it.”

“Havin’ this sickness around us brought us together though.” She points out gently. Her stomach has gotten too big to lean over much, but she manages to nudge Drayton in his shoulder. It’s a friendly gesture, but it causes him to tense up anyhow, averse to touch.

His question is fittingly bitter. “That worth it?”

“I dunno. You tell me, Drayton Sawyer.”

Turns out it’s unavoidable. Worth it or not they gotta deal with what comes.

He gets the phone call in October.

“So it worked, heh? Don’t figure you’d be callin’ me up if the news were bad.”

Egotism aside, he should’ve noticed Gloria’s sniffles as he answered, the background noise devoid of a baby's cries.

She snaps him into that reality quick with a brutal sob, “You’d be wrong then. Oh, you got no idea Mr. Sawyer- Drayton- I can't call nobody else. I just can’t tell ‘em yet.”

Now that’s got him thinkin’ the worst, gone from leanin’ against the gossip bench to snappin’ bolt upright, spine stiff against the expected tide of grief, “Well? You gonna tell me then?”

At least her panic ain’t so severe she cain’t explain it, gettin’ some answers out between her anguish. “My baby. He got it too. I knew it as soon as they started pullin’ ‘im out ‘cause of the pouch on his back, got all caught up.”

“Don’t reckon I know ‘bout that, girl.”

“Lord, you don’t want to. It’s just horrific. The baby, his little spine is well- it’s formed wrong- that’s.. that’s what the disease does, the spine don’t fuse. Now there’s fluid on the outside like some God-awful vicious blister. But that’s his feeling; the movement in his legs, the nerves, it’s all bundled up in there and it ain’t able to work. They’s doin’ a surgery on ‘im now, won’t see him ‘til the morning.”

Well he can imagine it clearly just from that. For a long minute Drayton just sits there dumbfounded by it. Can’t imagine any world so cruel where a woman can know the probable cause and do her damndest to fight it, and still end up this way. And to be neighbors with a woman like his mother that goes around spreadin’ her sort of sickness on purpose. Makes him feel sick and shaky and clammy all over.

“I’ll send y’all my prayers.” He chokes out attempted sympathies, knowin’ that’s what she’d hear from her folk if she called them.

Only, she didn’t call them. She called Drayton and that was certain deliberate. “No. No you ain’t sendin’ nothin’. I need a friend. My only friend. To be here.”

Drayton knows already he’ll be there by the end of the night, but murmurs all the same, “See what I can do.”

Lucky Gloria can read him just as easy.

“...Could you bring the boys? They’d probably love to see the baby.”

Feels like another wave of the cruelty they been drownin’ in to remind her of their disease. Transferable, unlike some deformity. Normally he’d be agitated, but he can’t blame the woman for focusin’ on a different issue when it came and fell right in her womb the way it did.

“They’ll just get ‘im sick.”

“Oh that’s right... But you’ll come, won’t ya?” She sounds awfully hopeful through the static of distance.

He’s already to his feet and grabbing his hat with the phone held up by his shoulder, as he answers, “I said I’ll see.”

Of course he had come then, with leftovers from supper. Gloria never stopped crying that day even over chicken soup. Or for the next few months, for that matter. Could’ve gotten a diagnosis of her own for that, were she willing, but she didn’t leave her home, didn’t dare risk exposing her poor baby to a world that would be so cruel to him already. Not until his surgery scars healed anyhow.

Unlike Drayton with the twins, she couldn’t set that boy off on his own. Can’t roll over on his own, or kick his legs or sit up. Ain’t just walkin’ he’ll never do.

She names the kid after her father, but that seems about awfully cruel when the bastard won’t even hold the child. Drayton’s got the kid on his front porch ‘fore the rest of his own family cares to know him.

The twins are just about five now and a lot behind most kids their age, but they think the kid is a doll. Nobody knows it yet, but when their baby brother comes along in half of another year, they’ll treat him the same, except with actually bein’ allowed to hold him.

Drayton won’t let them close to the Hardesty boy, not willing to run that risk.

Gloria finds it terrible, startin’ when she witnesses him backhand Nubbins for snaking past him to get his sick little hands on that innocent little, already broken baby.

Her view of him changes from that day on.

Except whether or not he’s a good friend, or even a good person, he’s still a friend, and he’s the only one she can confidently say doesn’t hate her for havin’ a fucked up kid.

So they drink sweet tea in the dry heat and let their kids play together every Sunday, once they’re all old enough, when the rest of her family is at church and Gloria stays home with Franklin, on account of his little wheelchair not fittin’ in between the rows of pews. Might get away with sitting him in some corner if he weren’t such a sensitive kid. Wanted to be close with his mama all the time.

Little Franklin never did have a chance to not be attached to her at the hip. Fragile heart barely concealed by a crippled body, a family that turned their back on him all except a few. Despite his mama bein’ reserved with the Godliness in her time, that kid clings to it like a lifeline. Prays and prays over every little mistake and bump in the road under his wheels. Scared to death he’s gonna be struck down and cursed over nothin’.

Drayton wonders if he should feel responsible for that. Gettin’ his mama involved in the family’s business the way he did by feeding her that horrible meat. If maybe the kid was cursed and he’d been the one to do it.

At least he knows who’s protectin’ him. Won’t ever play for more than a few minutes before he’s he’s throwin’ looks over his mama’s way to make sure she’s got an eye on him. Smart as he is anxious.

“Don’t know whatchu was so worried about. Your boy's doin’ just fine in that new little chair.” Drayton encourages her, when the kid ages out of his first wheelchair into one he can steer all on his own.

Takes him a while to adjust to playin’ with the growin’ twins, but he manages it, somehow. They treat the front yard like it’s the size of outer space, just tearin’ the hell out of it while they run and run. Or wheel, for that matter.

Gloria narrows her eyes at Drayton but don’t turn his way, attempting to hide that grimace in her glass, “Mm. Well I’d say the same but it ain’t quite true.”

“I hear you there.” Drayton sighs too hard it hurts his bones, exhaustion settled deep in them from workin’ all the mornin’, all the while his littlest, but no longer exactly small in his toddler years, brother stays hanging off of him. “If it ain’t the twins fallin’ half-witted and diseased it’s the baby wailin’ his damn head off.”

Here comes the reason for the tension she’s been swallowing back with watered down tea. “You oughta get them checked, fallin’ behind so bad. Or at least the baby.”

“He’s fine.” Drayton dismisses the idea immediately.

Only he knows it ain’t true. Just don’t got the money to do anything about it.

Gloria, she had them doctors tellin’ her how to fix her baby all from a couple tests. Advice that costed her thousands, and the boy was still born wrong. Can’t go takin’ that risk when it would end them up in the poorhouse. The boys’d get treated alright, but they’d get turned over to the state if he couldn’t pay the bills for it. Maybe he’s a fool, but to Drayton, that ain’t even close to worth it, no matter how much it would help.

But they play just fine. They love each other just fine. Forget milestones and their speakin’ skills and all, so long as they ain’t brain dead completely it's a non-issue.

That ain’t the way Gloria sees it. She urges him, “Some problems is invisible to us. My Sally for example.”

Makes him scoff at her. Sally’s the baby of the group of ‘em all, still in her infancy. The others can’t learn how to speak or walk right, but she’s still too little for it. Givin’ up hope too early, he thinks.

“Girl ain’t got a thing wrong with her.”

“You’d think that. But she gets these night terrors, worse than any bad dream, just zoned totally out in her little crib. It’s like the Devil’s got her or somethin’.” Gloria gives a stubborn nod, watching Drayton shrink back, just a little, from being corrected.

He’ll keep it to himself that he still don’t quite believe her word for it. Just chides, “Lock her door at night. They start to wander when they’s like that.”

“So I’m right that the twins understand that.”

“Uhn. Just Nubbins. Don’t need a doctor to tell me he’s knocked sideways like his mother. Schizophrenic.”

Gloria clicks her tongue at him, earning a quick flush of shame. She scolds him like he’s one of the children, “Oh, I wish you wouldn’t call him that.”

“Schizophrenic?” Drayton knows he’s puffed up like a turkey, offended by the notion that yet again he’s doin’ something wrong.

Giving the tiniest flick of her eyes upwards, as frustrated as Drayton is now, she tells him, “No, that’s just his reality. I mean Nubbins. It’s cruel.”

‘Cause he’s stunted. At his age he’s half the size he’s s’posed to be, left behind by his identical twin when it comes to growin’ up. Guess that makes it wrong to call him small. But he don’t see it that way, so Drayton defends it, “Told you before. Chose the nickname himself! Don’t think ‘a himself a damn lick diff’rent than most. Stumped up or not.”

“But that would be like nicknamin’ my Franklin by ‘cripple’ or somethin’ worse.” Gloria tries to get him to see it her way, but that only makes Drayton double down.

She wants to get drastic, he can do that. He turns cold like a stone sinkin’ under water. “Maybe you oughta. Toughen him right up. Been whinin’ enough-“

“Alright, hold your tongue! You can’t make me regret lettin’ you and your brothers into my babies’ lives, no matter how hard you try it, damn it!” That woman can yell ‘til she’s pink in the face, voice strainin’ to not get too loud between each heavy breath. Her pearly pink nail on the end of her finger hovers inches away from the tip of Drayton’s nose, a warning. “I ain’t your mother, and neither are you, and we both know damn well you love those kids so you can stop pretendin’ it’s all an inconvenience to you!”

Don’t know how to put it to words, the way that makes him feel. Mostly irritated, but not by her. By his own shame. By his weakness, for even listenin’ to what she was lecturin’ him about. Shouldn’t let it get to him so bad.

To bury that feeling, he extends the olive branch again, without looking up at her, “Put some lemon in the tea today. Sweeten it up. Know you like it that way.”

“It’s alright. Apology accepted.” But she sighs. Don’t sound grateful.

Things get awkward quick these days. The kids don’t stop growin’, so their curiosity don’t either. Drayton thinks they’s playin’ too rough, racing Franklin back and forth in his wheelchair and jostlin’ him around. Little thing is laughin’ his head off, but all the same. Can’t say much though lettin’ the babes down in the yard too, on a quilt and right in the line of chaos. Already had to reprimand them for treatin’ the little ones like a couple ‘a dolls. Both keep a close eye to make sure they don’t get too close to the babies.

Now and again, his nervous glares shift to Gloria, tryin’ to see what she thinks without showin’ too freely he cares.

One time she catches him looking and interrupts the building paranoia, partly anyhow.

“We still on for supper next week? My brothers’ll be over after church, I’d really like for y’all to come by. I’ve told Boude about your kids some- he’s the particularly religious fellow. A ranger- I think he’d like to meet them.”

Drayton for one don’t like the sound of that. Charity from most folk just comes out soundin’ like torture, makin’ even feedin’ poor miss Hardesty those organs sound Saintly.

“Heard‘a exorcism killed some little girl. Turns out there weren’t no devil in her, just some family illness. Don’t want no maniacs like that around them.”

“It ain't like that. Sometimes when you pray for somebody, it’s to have someone in your corner through the struggles, not just to wish ‘em away.” Gloria spells it out for him.

“God left this farm a long time ago, Missy. You used to know that. Why you think all these kids keeps turnin’ out this way?” Drayton knows she still feels the same about the faith, only acting accordin’ to the plan her family’s got for her with raisin’ those two little ones of hers, but she pushes back anyhow.

“Look, I don’t believe it either, so maybe that’s just the fate of it. Maybe even God was the one that knew I’d need help from your slaughterhouse and gave our children a beautiful thing to bond over.”

“Right. ‘Cause it’s so nice they’ll never learn to read, or live on their own, or understand how really dangerous runnin’ in the street is. Thank your Christ Almighty for that. And while your at it, kiss ass about Bubba’s tongue-tie too. Been real helpful havin’ that little one half-starved ‘cause his own body won’t let him eat.”

There’s real hurt in her face. Like she’d been hit, or maybe worse’n that. She pleads, “Drayton. Enough.”

The guilt of snappin’ at her starts to eat him alive. He tries the tactic from before, the reachin’ out in simpler terms. “Added just a pinch of milk to the tea too. You’d think the lemon would curdle it but-“

She shuts him down with all the viciousness of a feral animal. Anger and somethin’ much uglier bubblin’ under the surface, tricklin’ out as a tremor in her hands she couldn’t hide if she wanted. “I said enough.”

They’re starin’ each other down like two rabid coyotes, deadlocked over which is gonna say somethin’ nasty first.

Gloria’s little boy takes the honor of breakin’ things up, wheelin’ hisself right over with a confident, and clearly rehearsed, question, “Mama, can I stay the night, please oh please with sugar daisies on top? Nubbins told me his room gots spiders, and I wanna see ‘em.”

“Honey, is his room up the stairs? You can’t get up there if it is.” She points out for him. The adults know it’s an excuse to put just a little more distance between them and the Sawyers.

“Oh..” Little’s Franklin’s curly head hangs with disappointment, ‘til he thinks of somethin’ new to ask. “But Mama, we got stairs over home and I get up them jus’ fine?”

Gloria breaks away from Drayton to lean over her boy, get on his level without crouchin’ down and makin’ an ordeal of it. “Because your daddy carries you, silly.”

“Mr. Sawyer could carry me.” He looks past his mama and directly at Drayton as he says it, in this same habit as his mama used to be with the formalities. Difference is the innocent little smile he gives, unaware of the cruelty that comes with the Sawyer name.

But in Gloria’s anger, she doesn’t give Drayton a chance to tell the kid he wouldn’t be carryin’ him anyhow, ‘cause she shakes her head, “I don’t think so, baby. Maybe some other time. It's almost time for supper anyhow, and that’d be just rude.”

That was just the start of them breakin’ away. Gone and fucked a good thing up, he did. ‘Cept it weren’t just the argument that done that.

When Franklin relayed the news to the twins they couldn’t have their friend spendin’ the night, they both threw a fit, up until Nubbins ended up hollerin’ at Drayton. Sayin’ some childish insult about not havin’ friends of his own to understand it. ‘Bout bein’ lonely all because he’s so ugly-mugged and half-witted and bitter about it all that nobody could stand to talk to him.

Hits a sore spot. Ain’t ‘cause he’s fragile enough to let a child weigh in on his self-worth, but he had to learn them words somehow. Knows damn well Drayton himself had said them things one too many times and rubbed off on the kid. Ruined his chance at normalcy too. And that’s what hurts him, is knowin’ he done that.

He lashed out about it. Drayton grabbed his bony shoulder and cracked him ‘cross the face, good three or four times in a row ‘til his cheek had a split and was bleedin’. Nubbins didn’t cry a bit. Franklin did. Oh, that boy wailed and wailed all the way back to the next door property- Sally in his arms and Miss Gloria pushin’ the wheelchair with them both- and then some more cryin’, from the sounds of it carrying in the air from next door.

Got the twins both snifflin’ too ‘cause now they’re realizin’ they’s s’posed to cry when these things happen. Drayton gets Bubba and goes inside, leaves ‘em out there to go where they please and feel as they want. Doesn’t care if they get themselves killed in the street right now. Deep down those kids hate him, and not requirin’ so much introspection, he knows clearly that he deserves it.

All together they only see the Hardesty family a couple more times ‘fore it’s their last meeting. Before it’s goodbye.

Gloria comes on her own, without any kids, just a gloomy expression, “I thought you’d like to know we’re movin’ up North. Now that Ma’s passed on, We’re goin’ with Boude. I think it’s for the best.”

He’s furious. Would like to take the broom he’d been using to sweep up the porch and smack her senseless over the head with it. Foolish, since he knows damn well the fault is all his. Drayton stays frozen in place, tryin’ to plead but soundin’ more just like he’s demanding, “You can’t do that to my boys. The twins, they’ll-“

“They’ll be alright if you’d just stop treating them so poorly!” She snaps, marching forward from the tense distance to downright growl in his face, all kinds of tension in her voice from the build-up of tears. “My Franklin, he talks about the damndest things! And I know he learnt it all from yours.”

“Well like what?”

“Things like knives, and blades, and horrible, horrible deaths!”

Ah. That was prob’ly inevitable. From the second she came along askin’ for his help, her and that baby were bound up in this whole mess. “Ain’t it the meat you wanted, woman? How you think we get it here?”

“But my Franklin, he don’t need to know all that! Now he’s fascinated with it, won’t stop scarin’ his baby sister describin’ the insides of cattle. Makin’ her cry.” Gloria sounds so defeated and desperate.

Drayton has to look away from her, thinkin’ of how she’d react if she knew that the blame should be tenfold. That the twins ain’t just witness to the dirty work of the industry, but they gots their own way of doin’ it when the times gets extra tough. Humans as beeves and all.

That’s a decision he’ll stand by, if only ‘cause his heart couldn’t bear the shame of bein’ so deeply wrong twice. “Sounds like you just didn’t prepare yours for the real world.”

“Or maybe you forced it on them boys too early. Maybe the way you hurt them leaves scars on the mind too.”

Now he knows his face is all angry red, gone from takin’ each blow with a side of sadness to just blind rage. Comin’ after the way he was choosing to parent them kids that ain’t even his own. Like he weren’t barely an adult himself when they popped out and became his issue to deal with, sick in the head as they were in their hearts. Drayton’s got every right to handle them rabid dogs of children the way kids like them, kids like he used to be for his Mama, oughta be.

“I don’t- That’s punishment!”

“And Lord have mercy the day your punishment comes, ‘cause I know it ain’t gonna be pretty!” She practically screams it.

Don’t got a clue that for Drayton, this is the punishment. The isolation. The family business. Mama and Grandpa’s teachings. Don’t take the pleasure in it, never did ‘til the day he could help that Hardesty kid in his mama’s womb. Should’ve been a sign, when his spine never finished formin’, that that bond wouldn’t be enough to save ‘em.

“We’ll see, missy.”

“No, we won’t. I told you. We’re movin’. I appreciate everythin’, but I’ve had enough- more than enough of my share of the violence. I don’t know what life is comin’ to anymore.”

“That’s gonna be no matter where you go.” He warns her. All over the world there’s killin’. Crueler people than him when it comes to the way her two kids are. That Franklin especially gonna be in for it when he realizes most kids ain’t as carefree as them twins.

“Worst part is, I know you’re right.” Gloria agrees with the sentiment, the cold damn reality, and it cracks her fragile disguise right in two. She caves from an overwhelming flood rush of emotion, and wraps her arms ‘round Drayton. “Give them hugs from me too. And from Franklin.”

Takes him a minute to realize that was a hug and not her tryin’ to squeeze him ‘til his ribs break. By the time he catches up she pulls away and he’s just holding her arm, careful with her like she’s made of bone porcelain. ‘Cause he knows he might be the one to hold too tight and break her. Accidents happen. And lord knows he’s been quick to violence these days.

Vulnerability reminds him, “Don’t them- Don’t the boys deserve a damned goodbye?”

“I’m half scared they’d stowaway in the movin’ truck.” Gloria laughs lightly, but it’s wet, and the tears start dripping’ down her cheeks and off her nose.

Finally Drayton can see the humor in it, and gives her a little chuckle himself. “Hell, you’re prob’ly right.”

And because she is, all Gloria has to say is, “I’m sorry, Drayton.”

“No you ain’t.” He tries weakly to deny. To him, it’s better without the padding. Just give him the blow directly, tell him he never meant a damn thing to any of those damned Hardesty’s and leave without looking back.

Gloria has no such intention, being genuine, real gentle but with purpose, after bein’ so tough before.

“I am though. I’m sorry for a lot of things.”

Before he knows it, the well bursts with frustration and Drayton’s got a flood of guilt pouring out of him.

“I’m the one that couldn’t help ya! One shot at redemption and I failed it, prob’ly fucked that kid up worse by interferin’ at all! And the little girl too! Damn it, woman, there’s a reason us Sawyers keep to ourselves! You’d think, the diseases of the mind ain’t contagious, but with us- with us they is.”

Either so unmoved the disinterest is genuine, or worse, hiding her feelings from him again, rebuilding the wall that keeps them contained after Drayton’s own outpouring beat against its hardening exterior. Whichever way, she stays blank now.

Gloria speaks first. “I should go.”

“You should.” He agrees, giving a harsh sniff to keep from crying for real.

But she never follows through. Just stands there. “I don’t want to.”

“Got to, girly.” It’s not as friendly as it oughta be. Dry and sad and bored sounding, anything to distance himself if that’s how she wants to play it.

Only, Gloria hugs him again, this time pressing her face to his chest, so she could try to melt into him. To leave behind responsibility and expectations and the pressures of life and sick children. She ain’t oblivious to the cruelty of meat. Consumers and Predators and who’s got the sharpest teeth. Seems like Drayton’s job is to do the hunting, and Gloria, she keeps the prey animals in line. Sharpens their teeth to give em a chance, gets ‘em wheels for useless legs.

Could’ve been all she wanted, if she didn’t settle in and have her babies. There’s a time for proving her worth, and a time for layin’ down the fight to keep her family safe.

“In another life.” She mumbles, refusing to let go of the hug she’s got him in for far too long.

“Don’t be so final. They’ll grow up and find each other when we’s old and bitter.”

“I think we already are.”

“Yeh. Prob’ly right.” His shoulders deflate. Hunch forward. Drayton can’t stand to do this. Never had to say goodbye before when someone was fixin’ to leave him behind. “Go on, then. Drag it out any longer and I’ll be the one sendin’ the boys in your luggage.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” In a playful kind of way, she tries to fix her expression into stern, but it just kind of crumbles, for a second showing her grief all over.

Drayton doesn’t bother adjusting tone when he plays along. An emotionless back and forth, knowing full well it’s wrong to keep going, “I might.”

Gloria huffs in frustration, this conversation clearly not going to plan. Probably wanted him to break down and cry with her. Plead and plead for her not to leave so she could heroically change her mind. Force Drayton to be somebody he ain’t.

That illusion is long over now. The helpful friendly neighbor. Never was quite accurate to who he is on the inside. Or the outside after he’s been up to butcherin’. Best she goes now, thinkin he never did care for her or her kids, rather’n have to put ‘em on the hooks later.

“Stubborn as a mule, I tell ya.” She shakes her head at him, no idea how lucky she really is that he’s so distant to her.

Nothin’ left to say, Drayton keeps his mouth shut, hopin’ that’ll be enough for her to lose interest and turn away now. His thoughts have made him sick to his stomach, doesn’t want to see her face any longer.

Taking a couple steps back, about to turn toward the path, she gives him a warning of her own, “Just be good.”

“Don’t think it’s me you should be tellin’ that to.” He hums, though he knows damn well his family business is bad. No such thing here. Only one of them remotely well behaved is Drayton, and he’s the one with his hands elbow deep in corpses most days, whether they’re cattle or the other kind of beeves.

“I’ll pass it along to the boys.”

“I meant you.” Big round eyes all desperate for one final plea to change her mind and keep them rooted here, she’s searchin’ Draytons face as she speaks to him. Hopin’ to see under the exterior.

So he stays silent again.

Pisses her off, cause now she turns her back to him. Raises her voice so much it wobbles, “I won’t see you again, Drayton Sawyer.”

“Alright.” Is all he gives her.

Her silhouette is shaking, the force of her sobs popping out of her like boiling oil. Sharp and unexpected and painful. The last thing she ever says to him is a curse, upon him now for pushin’ her away, and for leadin’ her on all this time. Makin’ her think her and her babies was like family.

“Damn you. God damn you to hell!”

Got a one way ticket already. Don’t get no worse than killing. Smackin’ the boys around, sayin’ things he shouldn’t, none of it compares to the killin’. Figure if he stopped that but didn’t change a damned other thing about himself, he’d still be welcomed up above, if he just repented.

That’s one thing he refuses to do. Drayton ain’t gonna beg the universe, or a frail woman from next door, in her pristine little house with her pristine little family, for forgiveness.

Things need done. Children need fed. She should know that as well as any.

#loved it!! i enoy the way you write drayton #the history and his developing personality. young drayton is always fun to play around with

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