Free A Death On The Wolf by G. M. Frazier Page B

was, I’d just have to find a way to deal with it. My worry, especially after what happened yesterday, was whether Frankie could find a way to deal with it.
    “ Well, I’ve got to get to work,” Daddy said as he got up from the table. He came over to me, ran his hand over my tousled hair, and then leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. “You remind me so much of your mother sometimes,” he said looking down at me with his hand still resting on top of my head. “I love you, son.” He turned and walked over to the door. He stooped and picked up his lunch box, then took his hardhat off the coat rack. He turned back to me and said, “You think about what we just talked about. Do what you know is right.”
    “ I will, Daddy.”
    He put his hardhat on and opened the kitchen door.
    “ Daddy?” I called to him.
    He turned back to look at me. “Hmm?”
    “ I love you, too.”
    He winked at me and headed out the door.
    — — —
    “ What’s wrong with you today?” Mary Alice asked me.
    “ Nothing,” I answered.
    We had just finished eating lunch and were sitting on the front porch at my house. Aunt Charity had taken Sachet into town with her. They were going to Anne’s Beauty Shop for Aunt Charity’s weekly hairdo and my sister was getting her hair cut. She had announced at breakfast that she wanted her hair short. Sachet had beautiful, long blond hair, so it was going to be interesting to see what “short” meant to her.
    I had been distracted all morning, and Mary Alice had picked up on it. The conversation I’d had with my father before dawn was troubling, and while I had resolved to apologize to Frankie, I was not looking forward to facing him. My greatest fear was that our friendship was over, and I was heartsore because of it. Why couldn’t things have just stayed the same?
    “ Tell me what’s bothering you, Nelson,” Mary Alice said. “And don’t say ‘nothing,’ again,” she added. I wanted to scream I was scared to death my best friend was queer and liked me, but instead I just told her I’d been thinking about Frankie. “You mean because of the fight?” she asked.
    “ Yes,” I said, and it wasn’t a lie. The fight was bothering me, too. “I’m going down to his house before I go to work and apologize to him. I found out from Daddy this morning that I broke his nose yesterday.”
    Mary Alice was sitting in one of the painted white chairs across from me. I was sitting in the only rocker on the porch. She had on light blue Bermuda shorts and a pink short sleeve shirt, but no sandals; today she was wearing pink slip on sneakers with white ankle socks. She started to get up, and when I saw her, I did too, out of habit. She didn’t have her walking stick and I figured she wanted to go inside, maybe to the bathroom, and she was not familiar with our house yet. I asked her if she wanted me to help.
    “ No, no…you stay there,” she said. “Keep talking so I can find you.” Mary Alice was about ten feet away, across the pine slat floor of our porch. I sat back in the rocker and watched her take a tentative step forward. “Talk!” she commanded.
    I laughed. “What do you want me to say?”
    She turned toward the sound of my voice. “Keep talking,” she said.
    In a singsong, I intoned, “I’m—talk—ing—to—the—prett—i—est—girl—in—Miss—i—ssip—pi.”
    She chuckled and took two more steps toward me. Every instinct in me said get up and help her, but I kept my seat. “You’re not talking,” she said as she took another step.
    “ I’m—the—luck—i—est—guy—in—Miss—i—ssip—pi,” I continued in a singsong.
    She took two more steps. “Keep talking,” she said.
    “ You’re supposed to ask me why I’m the luckiest guy in Mississippi.”
    “ Why are you the luckiest guy in Mississippi?” she said, and took another step.
    “ Be—cause—Ma—ry—A—lice—Had—ley—is—my—girl—friend.” She laughed again, and I said, “Take