The Good Sister Read Free Page B

hardly any
     trees, just bushes that looked like dried-up spiders, and paper litter, fast-food wrappers and coffee cups blowing up from
     the dirt at the side of the road as cars and trucks rushed by. How would she live out there?
    A dry wind blew grit into the car, and Roxanne’s hair flew up and around her face in tangles that made her skull hurt. She
     held up her silver pinwheel and watched it whirl into a blur. She thought about nice Mrs. Enos, and wondered if she would
     look around her first grade class and worry because there was no Roxanne.
    The Buick loaned to Mommy by the dealership was shiny and almost new-looking, but the air-conditioning didn’t work. When Mommy
     realized that, she said a lot of the bad words forbidden to Roxanne, who had no idea what they meant anyway. In the heat Roxanne’s
     bare legs stuck to the car seat. Already she knew she would be unhappy in Daneville. She imagined her grandmother had a nose
     that curved down and almost touched her chin.
    “I don’t want to stay alone with her.”
    “I’ve got a job, Roxanne. Mr. Brickman depends on me.”
    Mr. Brickman, the manager, called Mommy all the time and sometimes at night he drove her to meetingsabout serious dealership business. She got dressed up for her job as his secretary and was always excited when the day began;
     but by the time she fetched Roxanne from Mrs. Edison in the afternoon, her mood had soured and she couldn’t wait to pop open
     a beer, sit on the couch, and watch television.
    “What about my toys?” There hadn’t been room for much in her pink backpack. “And my books?”
    “Your grandmother’s got a whole roomful of books.”
    This was the first good news Roxanne had heard.
    “What kind of books?”
    “Book-books. How should I know?”
    She had seen her mother read only magazines and sometimes the newspaper. “You don’t like books.”
    “What I don’t like is being told I have to read them or else I’m stupid.”
    “You’re not stupid, Mommy.”
    “Well, thank you very much.” Her mother looked at her for so long that Roxanne started to worry she would crash the car. “Sometimes
     I’m not so sure.”
    Mommy said, “Watch for the signs to Visalia.”
    “Is that where we’re going? Are we going to Visalia?”
    “Jesus, Rox. I told you we’re going to Daneville. The turnoff’s near Visalia.”
    Mommy put her foot on the gas and passed a truck driven by a man in a white straw hat. Roxanne smiled at him and waved her
     silver pinwheel and he waved back.
    She risked another question.
    “How come you don’t like her?”
    “Did I say that?”
    “Is she your mother?”
    “No. She’s Jackie Kennedy’s mother. What do you think, Roxanne? Jesus.”
    Mommy muttered something else. Roxanne saw her lips move, but the only sounds she heard were clicks and puffs. Back in wintertime
     Roxanne had had an earache and now she didn’t hear very well in her left ear.
    Mommy jerked the wheel, turning onto an exit.
    “Is this Visalia?”
    “If I don’t get a Coke soon, I’m going to pass out.”
    Four cars awaited their turn at the take-out window at Jack in the Box. Four plus the Buick made five. Roxanne figured that
     without counting on her fingers. Adding and take-away were simple if the numbers weren’t too big, but she worried about multiplication.
     Even the name was hard to say.
    “What about school?”
    “Oh, believe me, the old lady’ll get you to school. She’s big on school.”
    The words sounded good, but Mommy’s tone said otherwise.
    “Does Daddy know I’m going to Gran’s?”
    Mommy’s face went suddenly scarlet. “Do you think that’s funny?”
    “What’s funny?”
    “He’s dead, Roxanne. Remember? You must have a hole in your head.”
    She didn’t want to remember Mommy crying, throwing kitchen pans into the wall and screaming,
What the fuck am I supposed to do now?
Later Mrs. Edison had come over, and she and Mommy drank whiskey. Mrs. Edison said, “They always