Something of a Kind - By Miranda Wheeler Page 0,36
the stream. Sarah had fallen silent, releasing occasional whimpers.
“Nana did,” Mary -Agnes yelled suddenly, her chubby face too wet to tell where tears, droll, and snot began. She was a patchycheeked mess. He couldn’t even look at her, the anger clenching against the compassion he would normally shower on his mother. “I called, babies, Nana called.”
“Who did you call, Mama?” Sarah whispered, her eyes glowering beneath tears.
“Mr. Jacob. I call Mr. Jacob and he say, ‘It’s okay, I come to Yazzie’s,’” she slighted, her words slamming together.
Aly looked doubtful, her brow knitted as she looked to Noah for reassurance that it wasn’t a drunk fit. He nodded, replaying her distinct recall of the volunteer paramedic in his head. His mother was like a child when she was drunk – too much coincidence made a lie unlikely and accurate details were short-term memory.
“Alright – I’d rather have a professional look at it, but I think we can do a temporary bandage,” Aly announced, catching Noah’s gaze. “Give me a hand? Grab the first aid?”
As he retrieved the box from the opposite counter, Aly dragged the chopping stool into the light. By the elbows, Aly eased Sarah down. Noah pulled another to her side, sitting. Lee returned through the doors, Mary-Agnes at his back as they stumbled around Kennedy, streaking the remaining sauce with their feet.
“Listen here. This can’t happen. You can’t be your running mouths or nothing,” Lee demanded, his droopy eyes wide with rage. “This was real dumb.”
“This,” Noah yelled, “is your fault.”
“You’d better watch your ungrateful mouth,” he sneered. His gaze suddenly fixated on Aly, unable to look at the wounds she tended.
“You are a horrible father!” Noah shouted. He closed in on Lee, chest inflated, neck arched, emphasizing his height– he felt like his brother, but it suited the anger, every year of it. Voice low, he warned “You need to leave, right now.”
His only daughter– and he’s pissed that she was ‘stupid enough’ to get hurt.
Lee cleared his throat, staring at Alyson. Backing down for the first time in Noah’s life, Lee grumbled, “We’ll address this later. As a family.”
“What family?” Noah muttered, waving him good riddance, too confused to hold the anger or mull over the small victory. He sat, accepting Sarah’s hands from Aly so she could fish for aloe.
“It wasn’t nobody’s fault,” Mary -Agnes mumbled incessantly. “We all have our accidents. Little baby ones. I didn’t do nothing wrong. I just… step outside. You understand me. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
“Bury the sins elsewhere, okay?” he snapped, pointing for his mother to leave. Ignoring her crumbling face, he turned back to his sister, muttering, “Justice wouldn’t justify.”
The doors smacked together, swinging as she wobbled out weeping, words carelessly slurring from her lips. When the wails were out of ear-range, Sarah turned to Noah, offering her swollen hands.
“You can’t make excuses when you hurt people. It’s not supposed to be that easy,” Sarah whispered, her voice wavering with the onslaught of tears.
She sounds so young.
“It’s not fair,” he agreed, clamping down on his anger. Gently turning her hand in his, he promised, “I know it hurts like hell, but you’re going to be okay. I’ll bet it looks worse than it is.”
“If we weren’t the only damn eat -out place in this God-forsaken Podunk town it would have gone under,” she mumbled. “We’d be starving or in social services or something. You know in cities when this happens, that’s where you go? A foster home until your grown, then the government pays for you to go to college because your parents can’t.”
“I don’t think it’s quite so glamorous, Sar,” Noah sighed, slathering another lather of aloe as her burn heated the last. “Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.”
“I’m so tired.” Her voice ended in a hiss as the skin made contact with Noah’s best makeshift attempt at wet gauze. She swallowed audibly, shifting her gaze to Aly. “How’d you know what to do?”
Noah glanced towards her, his curiosity growing. “That was kind of amazing. You were the only one who didn’t freak out.” “Most burn accidents happen in the kitchen,” Aly replied.
Sarah waited, exchanging a glance with Noah as if it could clarify. Finally, she prompted, “And?”
“My mother was a chef and a klutz.” Aly forced a smile. “It’s just something I had to know.”
~
“Aly, I am so sorry. I can’t believe that just happened,” Noah said earnestly, rubbing his neck.
“It’s not a big deal. I mean it is, but not with me. Well,