I said: and if I do, it won’t just be me it happens to. It’ll be all of us.
My father got up so fast his chair went back into the wall and knocked a picture crooked.
He said: don’t play games with us. As long as you live under my roof you live by my rules.
He said: either you get rid of it, or you get out.
I said: Dad, please. I can’t explain now, but one day you’ll understand—
He said: get out.
I said: Dad—
And he said: now.
Less than an hour later I was standing on that porch with a holdall and about ninety dollars.
My mother stayed behind the screen door, crying quietly, with her hand on the frame.
She never once tried to
She has told me since that she thought he would change his mind by the morning, and that by the morning I was gone, and that those are not the same thing and she knows it.
She also put forty dollars in the side pocket of that holdall while I was upstairs packing.
I did not find it until the Thursday. I have never mentioned it and neither has
