Free Family Thang by James Henderson Page A

Expedition and leaned on it for support. Woozy and nauseous. She’d almost stepped out on a greased limb. “Lester! I was talking about Lester, Shirley. I let our relationship go too far.”
    “Ruth Ann, you’re married to the man.”
    “Yes, you’re right. I better get back to him.” She hopped into the Expedition and started looking for the keys.
    “In the ignition,” Shirley said.
    “Oh, yeah. See ya, Shirley. I love you!” She started the engine.
    “Wait a minute! Let me move Darlene’s car out the…” Before she could finish, Ruth Ann drove across the lawn and then sped off down the street, in the wrong direction from her house.
     

 
     
     
     
    Chapter 9
     
     
    Robert Earl lay on the couch, a damp towel wrapped around his neck. He’d come home an hour ago, hurting, his ego more bruised than his neck. His weirdo baby brother had actually gotten the better of him, an ex Marine, a real man.
    A minute there, on the floor with Leonard’s thumbs pressing his goiter deeper than it was designed to go, he thought it was over. A few seconds more and he would have lost consciousness. Choked to death by a fag! The though t made his neck hurt even more.
    Leonard couldn’t confront him man-to-man. No, he had to dive in the air, catch him off guard. If he’d been expecting the move, he would have caught Leonard midair, whirled him around a couple of times, lifted him overhead and body-slammed him.
    He adjusted the towel around his neck, a wicked smile under his bushy moustache, the imagined sound of Leonard’s body bouncing on the jail floor echoing in his head.
    And where’s Estafay? When he needed her she was nowhere to be found. His neck needed a massage.
    As his daddy used to say, “A woman ain’t good…” He couldn’t complete the thought. His daddy never liked Estafay, and hadn’t mind saying so, even to Robert Earl’s face. No one had a better reason than he to kill the rotten, tightwad so-and-so. His daddy had never given Estafay a chance, not once.
    An ugly memory played in his mind. He shook his head, trying to recall something more pleasant, but the memory continued...
    Honorably discharged from the Marine Corps, he’d returned home with his bride of two weeks, Estafay. His family was sitting on the front porch when he and she got out of the cab.
    He strutted up to the porch in his dress blues, Estafay a couple of steps behind, his chest puffed up, head held high, arms swinging six inches to the front and three to the rear, as they’d taught him in boot camp.
    He could not have asked for a better day, early April, a light breeze, the afternoon sun hitting his bronze buttons and patent leather shoes just right.
    He stopped a few feet short of the porch and said, “Momma, Daddy, Shirley, Ruth Ann, Leonard, I’d like y’all to meet my wife, Estafay. She’s from Oceanside, California.”
    Estafay nodded hello.
    A long, awkward minute they all stared at Estafay, looking her up and down. And then…his head ached just thinking about it…his daddy shook his head, looked down at the floor and shook his head some more.
    “Boy,” his daddy said, “all those beautiful women in California--millions of em! On a beach you can throw a stick in a crowd, knock two centerfolds upside the head. And you come back here with a goddamn orangutan!”
    They--Ruth Ann, Shirley, Leonard--burst out laughing; not hee hee and haw haw, but full blown gut-holding laughter. Ruth Ann dropped to all fours, laughing so hard she started coughing and crying.
    Robert Earl clutched his fist, unconsciously, as he had done that day, years ago, when his family had laughed in his and Estafay’s face.
    He’d wanted to kill his daddy, put his hands around his scrawny throat and choke the life out of him. If Estafay hadn’t whispered in his ear, “Let’s go somewhere else, honey,” he might have done just that.
    Estafay practically had to carry him back to the motel, three miles away, holding him up by the arm, urging him