The Flowers Read Free Page A

TV on and nobody ever knocked on the door unless it was a Mormon or Jehovah or one of those ex-tecatos who love Jesus like their heroin, and I learned to stop opening the door for any of them. Usually I wouldn’t even look if I did hear but because Goofy’s barking so crazy I go, and before I even get near the door I could feel the pounding on it through the floor and I heard some man yelling at it loud and he’s beating on it, so hard that it’s shaking and rattling. I ain’t going to answer but he keeps hitting on the door so much I can’t help myself, the words pop out of me that my mom’s not here. It was that he was screaming about her. He was screaming like
You bitch, open the fucking door right now, you goddamn thief, you slut, you bitch, open this door, Silvia, right now, or I’ll fucking bust it in.
    I was standing there not sure what to say or do next, Goofy all barking and wagging like it was something fun.
    â€œOpen the door,” he says. “Open the fucking door.”

    And without thinking first, now I’m talking too. I’m saying no. I’m saying that my mom’s not home. I go reach over and check that it’s still locked, and I hook the chain thing, backing away from it as quickly as I got close.
    â€œOpen the door,” he says. He was beating on it so that the door was wanting to give in. “Open it!” I felt like the whole house was shaking.
    Finally I can think for a second. It was hard because Goofy was going all crazy. “She’s not home!” I shouted. I can think finally, and what I’m thinking is that I know who it is. I’m thinking it’s the man I heard her talking on the phone about. That once he’d shot a man. That he got drunk a lot. This man’s voice sounded drunk.
    â€œYou open the door,” he says, “or do you want me to bust it in?”
    I swear he was slugging the door with his fist, and there was like a crackling wood sound.
    â€œDo you hear me, kid? Do you fucking hear me?”
    I’m whispering to Goofy to stop barking,
Come on, Goof,
trying to make her calm, but she’s on automatic. It got like she was barking at another dog and wanting to bite.
    â€œWhere is the bitch? You tell that fucking mother of yours to open the door or I’m busting it in right now! You hear me?”
    I ran to the kitchen. I had to open a bunch of drawers because my mom never put things in the same ones or maybe I didn’t because I didn’t know which drawer either. I found that big knife. It was as long as my wrist, a wood handle. As soon as I grip it in my hand, I don’t feel as scared. I didn’t care if he carried a gun. He comes in, I cut the dude. Goofy was still wailing at the door and he was still hitting on it and saying shit but it seemed quieter to me. I walked back a little slow, and I didn’t go near the door but to one side of it. I held the big knife in my hand and I’m gripping it so hard I didn’t feel like it was a knife but me.

    The man started kicking the door. Then he was throwing his body against it, and you could hear wood cracking. I’m just standing there and I didn’t hear Goofy no more, if she was even barking. When the door blasts, splintering the side it opened on, it swung so hard and wild that Goofy didn’t move away and she made a loud crying yelp, getting thrown against the wall, crushed between it and the door. The man was standing outside on the front porch and breathing fast. He rolled up the sleeves of his white business shirt and tucked it into his black slacks and there was some tattoo on his right forearm muscle and he had on a slippery tie loose around an unbuttoned collar and he was big. His face all purple. Real quick Goofy went back to her barking again and the man couldn’t figure out which of us to look at first until I see him see my knife. His eyes were slits but I could feel heat and breathing out of them