Free Now Showing by Ron Elliott

the top of the poppet head began to clunk dully against the old wood in a breeze blowing somewhere above our crater.
    Robin said, ‘Do you ever get lonely?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜No. You don’t care, do you? That’s the way you like it.’
    Bill stood. The dog growled.
    â€˜Fuck your wife, your family. Fuck everybody else. You know who’ll be at your funeral?’ She stopped talking. She looked bewildered. It was like she’d been slapped, but Bill’s arms were down.
    I stood and said, ‘Rob?’
    Bill looked over at me, annoyed, but straight back at Robin. ‘Do you want an answer? Is that what you want?’
    â€˜Yeah, I do. Why you killed her.’
    â€˜Killed her? I didn’t kill her. She died of cancer. I wasn’t even there.’
    â€˜Exactly. You were never there. You left her to bring us up.’
    â€˜I gave her money when I had it.’
    â€˜Why did you hate us?’
    â€˜Hate you? Is that what your mother said?’
    â€˜No. She’d never say that. It’s what I’m saying.’
    He shook his head, like a boxer trying to clear away concussion.
    Robin smiled.
    Bill started around the table.
    Robin reached for the rifle.
    â€˜No, Rob. No.’
    She pointed the rifle at me then back at Bill as he walked up to her.
    â€˜I didn’t love her. That what you want to hear?’
    â€˜It wasn’t my fault,’ Robin said.
    â€˜What?’ Bill saw something and in that moment took the rifle out of her hands. He grabbed and twisted it in the one motion and held it up behind him. ‘Who said anything was your fault?’ He flicked his eyes to include me. ‘It’s no one’s fault. Shit, I was twenty. Your mother was seventeen. We all do fucking stupid things when we’re young.’
    I came closer. ‘Shall I take the rifle? Make it safe.’
    Robin said, ‘You know what work she did, Zac? She took in laundry.’
    â€˜Nothing wrong with that,’ said Bill. ‘We can’t all be dentists.’
    â€˜There was everything wrong with it. She’d start working at five. Wouldn’t stop. Piles and piles of dirty clothes. Slag heaps of dusty, sweaty, stinking miner’s clothes. Underwear of people we didn’t even know. Scrubbing the shit out.’
    â€˜Her choice,’ he said.
    â€˜What choice did she have?
    â€˜Why didn’t you help her?’ he said.
    â€˜I did.’ She looked at him, pleading. Then at me too. ‘I tried. I couldn’t do it all on my own.’
    â€˜So it is about you,’ Bill said.
    â€˜It’s about you. You and her.’
    â€˜Where were you?’ he asked.
    â€˜Hey, that’s enough,’ I said. I stepped towards them and Bill pushed the rifle into my chest and reached into his pocket and pulled out the screwed-up invoice. ‘Your name’s on the bit of paper, not mine.’
    â€˜She should have put yours.’
    â€˜But she didn’t. Here it is. Next of kin. Robin May.’
    â€˜I couldn’t...’
    â€˜Rob, you couldn’t.’ I stepped between them again and said to him, ‘She’s a student.’
    He talked past me. ‘Why did she put your name on the paper?’ He pushed the invoice at Robin.
    I grabbed it. ‘That’s enough.’
    He said, ‘You didn’t even go to her funeral. It wasn’t just me. You didn’t go either.’
    â€˜Stop it.’ I reached my hand forward to push him. He swatted it away.
    â€˜You know what I think?’ he said. ‘That’s why she put your name on the paper. She knew you wouldn’t come. Not when she got sick. Not when she was dead.’
    â€˜Leave her alone, you prick.’ I chested him and made him take a step back.
    â€˜What did you say?’
    â€˜Leave her alone.’ I tossed the rifle down and raised my fists.
    The dog growled.
    He moved the bottle into his left hand like it wasn’t a