The Stranger You Seek - By Amanda Kyle Williams Page 0,90

to the bedroom, where I hoped it would find some clothes.

I raised my voice so he could hear my opinion loud and clear. “We’re working out how fast he can get dressed and leave, that’s what we’re working out.”

“My Lord, Keye. You don’t have to be so rude, do you?”

“Mother, why are you here?”

“Why are you here?” she countered. “I’m taking care of White Kitty, remember?”

“It’s White Trash. Not White Kitty or Whitey or White One or Snowflake or whatever you’re calling her today. It’s White Trash.”

“I was going to stay here while you’re gone so she won’t get lonely,” Mother said, then shook her head. “And, well, it will give your dad some time alone.”

Uh-oh. Mom and Dad having problems? Visions of Mother living with me danced through my head.

“Are you and Dad okay?”

“Howard’s very upset, Keye. I’m sorry to tell you that your grandfather Street was killed.”

My father’s parents had always referred to me as “the little Chink,” so this news didn’t exactly rock my world. We had never been close, but I knew my father loved his father and must be hurting. “You left Dad alone?”

“You know your father. He can be just inconsolable. And it doesn’t help his fool father got himself run over on his own lawn mower. Can you believe it?”

“Somebody drove into Granddaddy’s yard and ran him over on the lawn mower?” I tried not to laugh, really I did. I knew in my heart of hearts that would be wrong. At the very least, Mother would consider it inappropriate.

“No, no. He was on the road, the main road, going to see your grandmother.”

“Going where to see Grandma?”

Exasperated, my mother puffed out her cheeks, set her suitcase down, and took her covered dish to the refrigerator. “They split up after Granddaddy Street got that snake. Your grandmother wouldn’t live in the house with a snake and I don’t blame her. Idiot was half blind too. They took his driver’s license away a few years ago, so he started riding around town on that hideous green thing. Damned old fool. And your poor grandmother, Keye.” She shook her head again in disgust. “Just one humiliation after another.”

“Granddaddy had a snake?” I struggled to keep up.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Keye. Don’t you know anything that goes on in this family?”

27

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I love watching her. She is so dedicated. We both are, but to different aims, of course. For her it’s all about a flat stomach and a hard ass to pull her little tights over. For me, I know when her neighbors are home, when her housekeeper comes. I know her cat. I have so come to enjoy these evening runs. She pretends not to know I’m there, wears her little headphones in her ears all the time, but I know she can feel me. She loves the attention. She wants my blade parting that cosmetic skin as badly as I do.

I crank up my stereo. It’s our song, mine and Melissa’s. Only the lonely. Dum, dum, dum, dum-de-do-wah. Know the way I feel tonight. Only the lonely. Dum, dum, dum, dum-de-do-wah. Know this feeling ain’t right.

I ease my car into gear and trail along behind her. I play it for her, for us. I sing it too. I can’t help myself. I’m so happy to see her.

There goes my baby. There goes my heart … Oh, oh, oh, oh yeah …

Tallahassee didn’t seem to know that summer was fading dully away in most of the country. The sun was blazing, the temperature around ninety-five, a hot breeze. In Atlanta, we’re deep enough into the South to have mild winters and long summers, and far enough north to get full color in autumn and a bright, budding spring. I had considered moving to Tallahassee and studying. WFSU has an excellent criminology program, but in the end I didn’t think I could live somewhere without the clear division of seasons to tame my moods and keep the depression away.

I went to the WFSU Visitors’ Center, explained my presence as best I could, and was directed to Mary Dailey in Admissions.

“I’m looking for information on a former student,” I told her. “Would have been a freshman sixteen years ago. Am I in the right place to get help with that?”

Mary Dailey was, perhaps, fifty years old, hair brown except for a gray streak in the