Free The Deputy by Victor Gischler

! And I almost cried again.
    It occurred to me a second later that she hadn’t just abandoned the boy. She’d left me too. Her letter was a crumpled ball in my fist. I smoothed it out, let my eyes adjust to the dim glow of the boy’s nightlight, and picked up where I left off.
    I knew you’d be home soon, so I left the boy
    sleeping in his room. He was wet, so I
    changed him. There is enough diapers and
    milk until the weekend, but then you’ll
    need to get to the store. I don’t know how to
    make you understand that I can’t stay here
    anymore. I thought there was a reason to but
    there is not and if I don’t go, I’ll go crazy.
    The Indian woman’s name is Alice. I know you always forget. She can watch TJ sometimes. I
    will send some money to help when I get a
    job in Houston, but I’m not coming back. I
    just read what I wrote and I guess I haven’t
explained a damn thing. All I can say is
that the more I’d say the less happy you’d
be, so there it is.
Doris
    Fuck you, Doris.
    I hugged the boy closer to my chest, rocked gently. Now what? Just what the hell was I going to do now? I’d have to talk to the Indian woman. Alice. And I’d have to go soon—tomorrow—to the fertilizer plant. I’d need to earn enough to feed us and keep the lights on and pay Alice when I was working.
    Maybe I should have given in to Doris. Gone to Houston. That line of thought pissed me off again. I realized I was rocking too fast, made myself slow down. When TJ was an infant, I’d rock too fast and make him spit up. I’d learned everything, how fast to rock him, how to change him, what he ate.
    I suddenly hated the whole fucking unfair world. I’d pawned my guitar and amp so long ago, I couldn’t remember what the strings felt like beneath my fingers. I could barely recall playing in some hot, smoky joint, really getting into the groove, how we could mesmerize a crowd when everything was working right. I left all that behind me to do the right thing. Doris was gone, and Molly would leave soon. Was there anything left to sacrifice?
    The dried blood on my hands looked black in the pale light. The boy’s skin glowing white and untainted. A lifetime of bruises and broken bones waited for him. He’d climb trees and fall out and step on sharp rocks in the river. But it wouldn’t keep him out of trees or out of the river. I’d see to that. I didn’t want him growing up afraid to live. This was my new mission in life. To make things right for the boy and fuck Doris and everyone else.
    Then I remembered I’d axed Billy. Who would take care of TJ if I went to prison? I wanted to cry again.
    A noise from outside, the loud creak of the metal step leading up to the back door.
    I held my breath and waited, listening. If it was Doris coming back, I’d rip her a new one like she wouldn’t believe. I waited, but nobody came inside.
    I stood, edged forward and took my revolver from the dresser. The boy slept, a warm and heavy bundle in the crook of my arm. I walked out of TJ’s room, stepping softly toward the back door. The bathroom was opposite the door, so I backed in, keeping the revolver trained on the door, listening carefully.
    Maybe it was Doris coming back. I wanted to think it was her feeling bad for running off, but she’d have put her key in and opened the door by now. She’d have come in.
    The silence was like a thick syrup that had oozed down over the whole trailer. I couldn’t hear the step creak or the boy’s breathing or any cars out on the highway. Nothing at all. Time held me in the frozen blue haze of my imagination, hoping it was Doris, knowing it wasn’t, somebody standing out there waiting to come into my home.
    Then, two things at once.
    A light rattle from the other side of the trailer. Somebody trying the knob on the front door.
    And the middle step at the back door creaked again.
    I lifted the revolver and fired, squeezed off three rapid shots.
    The bangs shook the trailer, the slugs blasting through