get back inside to my sister.
Percy doesn’t answer. He tucks the hammer into his back pocket and storms over to me with his eyebrows knitted together in a deep frown. He grabs me by the arm and drags me away from the trailer.
“Why is she in there? Why can’t I see her?” I demand to know.
“Be quiet,” he hisses. “Or you’ll wake the whole damn fucking place up. I told you, you shouldn’t be here.” He peers around my head and then behind him, checking for onlookers. There aren’t any. “And stop asking so many fucking questions.”
“But I saw her, and I couldn’t help myself. Put yourself in my shoes.” I try to remember the part I’m playing and do my best to center myself back into the role of Reich member. Someone who isn’t Percy’s enemy, but on his side. “I know she’s a gift. Thank you.”
“How the fuck did you know that?” he asks, gripping my arm tighter.
I shrug. “Small compound. People talk. Is she okay?”
“Still figuring that out. Come on.” Percy tugs me to the front of the trailer where Hoppy is now outside, shirtless, stretching and yawning. He spots us and smiles.
“Morning, kids,” he greets, scratching a dark hairy nipple.
Percy stops but doesn’t loosen his grip on my arm. “Hey, Hop, put a fucking shirt on, will ya?” His tone is casual and very different from the seething angry one he’s just used with me.
He’s acting. But why?
Hoppy rubs his big belly. “Fuck you, Perc. You’re just fucking jealous because there’s more of me for the ladies to love.” He glances from me to Percy. “Hey, what’s got you two kids up so early?”
I expect Percy to tell him. To say something that would result in me being locked in a trailer of my own at the very least. Instead, he releases my elbow and wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him. “Oh, you know,” Percy wags his eyebrows suggestively and bites his bottom lip.
Hoppy’s smile brightens. “Ah, now I get it. You two aren’t up early, you’re doing the walk of shame. I know how you do, brother. Good to see you kids are taking this marriage thing seriously and finally getting it on the way God intended.” Hoppy balls his fists and jerks his hips, humping the air. He laughs and turns back toward the trailer. “Still on to get that part for my truck around noon, P?” he calls back.
Percy guides us back toward the main building. “Only if you put on a fucking shirt first,” he replies.
“Wait, you give the little lady her gift yet?” Hoppy asks.
Percy stops us again and looks over his shoulder. “Not yet, waiting for the right time. Thanks for ruining the fucking surprise.”
“Oopsie,” Hoppy sings.
Percy pinches my shoulder, indicating that I should play along. “You have a gift for me?” I ask him, with mock surprise. “You didn’t tell me! What is it?”
“Patience,” Percy answers, his eyes locked on mine. “It’s not ready yet.”
“Very good. Sorry for the fuck up. Carry on, children.” Hoppy gives us a fat middle finger solute and steps back into his trailer while whistling a Disney song from…if I’m not mistaken, Frozen?
Percy takes me by the elbow once more, reconsidering the main building, he pulls me inside his trailer, shutting the door behind us and locking it.
Unlike the other trailers I’ve searched, Percy’s is clutter free. The sparse decorations consist of a swastika flag hanging above his unmade twin bed, a Fourth Reich medal hanging over a crooked desk with a framed picture of his deceased mother on top.
“What the fuck is going on, Percy?” I stomp my foot on the floor, ready to unleash hell and get answers at any cost. “Why didn’t you tell Hoppy that I know about the gift? Why can’t I see her?”
“I know you’ve got a big fucking heart, Mickey, but you’re asking a lot of questions you shouldn’t be asking,” he replies, nostrils flaring. “Stop poking around. I fucking mean it.” He paces the small room. “She’s safe in there. I promise. She shouldn’t even be here. YOU shouldn’t even be here.” He steps to the window and pushes aside the curtain, checking left and right before letting it fall back into place. “None of this shit was my idea.”
His chin drops to his chest.
“Wait, what are you talking about? Why shouldn’t we be here? What wasn’t your idea?” Right now, I would rather have the usual straight-up angry and hateful version