Suffer the Children (32 page)

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” she asked.

“The company wants to know when you’re coming back.”

“What are you even still doing there?”

“That new job I had lined up didn’t pan out. The company went under. Because, you know . . .” He gestured at the house. The world around him.

“But you were terminated.”

Ross frowned. “Yeah, I remember. They brought me back. They want you back too. Bereavement leave only lasted a week. It’s like a ghost town. A skeleton crew is running the place. You did too good a job in HR, Ramona. The benefits attracted a lot of workers with families. Now those people are at home with their kids. The company’s offering vouchers to people who come back. The vouchers are good
for discounts at any of the company’s stores. You know how expensive groceries are right now.” He looked at her. “So?”

“So what?”

“How about it? Do you want your old job back?”

She poured another glass of wine. “I’m a stay-at-home mom now.”

“What about money?”

Ramona laughed. She remembered when she used to care about things like working hard, promotions, raises. None of it mattered anymore. Money would eventually become a problem for her, but not now. She had much bigger fish to fry.

He said something else, but she didn’t catch it. She was thinking about a zit on Mitch’s forehead. A whitehead near his right eyebrow. At a distance, it had hardly been noticeable, but as she’d leaned forward to kiss him, she’d gotten a good look at it. The mother in her had wanted to reach over and pop it for him. In her memory, the pimple dominated the boy’s face. It
was
his face. Something to be stabbed and drained.

Ramona set her fork on her plate. She’d made herself nauseous. It didn’t matter; she had no appetite anyway. Ross was telling her how he’d spent most of his twenties living in California as a beach bum chasing the perfect wave. Then his mother had gotten sick, and he’d come back home to take care of her until she died. It had been a real wake-up call for him; it was time for him to grow up and get his act together.

A touching story. It explained much about him, but she couldn’t focus on it.

Do you know what a MILF is, Ramona?

Mitch had asked her that on the way to the clinic. She’d pretended not to hear. They’d gone into the clinic, told their lie, and walked out with his blood in a bag. They’d gotten back into her car, and she’d worked his ropey cock with her hand. It was like jerking off a snake. Later she’d put it in her mouth, and it had spit burning gobs of venom against the back of her throat.

Holy shit! You are so good at giving head!

She’d opened her door, leaned out, and coughed his sperm onto the ground. After that she puked up her guts. She’d been forced into it. She’d had no choice, not really. She imagined he’d held a knife to her throat. The two memories merged into one. He had come puke into her mouth, and it had gushed back out.

At least my blood’s good enough for you.

Ross finished speaking. She smiled politely, but he didn’t seem to notice; he appeared distracted himself now. She drained her glass and poured the last bit of wine into it. The evening was officially a bust.

“I’m sorry I’m so out of it,” she said. “I had a crazy day.”

Ross nodded as if this obvious piece of information finished some puzzle he was working on in his head. “Right. Of course you did. Like all the rest.”

She bristled. “Something wrong with that?”

“To be honest, I was really hoping somehow that tonight would be different. That you could let go of it all for a while. I had to at least try that. I was stupid.”

“I don’t understand. What did you expect? Josh needs a hundred percent of me. That doesn’t stop just because he’s sleeping. I’m in the middle of this thing. I’m trying to hold it together.”

“Well, there you have it.”

“There you have what? You’re my
friend
, Ross.”

“Right.” He exhaled and took another deep breath. “This is kind of hard to say, so I’ll just say it.” He looked her in the eye. “This is going to be the last time we see each other.”

Ramona felt nothing at first. Then she winced at the first stab of regret. Her mouth went dry. “But why? I don’t understand.”

“The main thing is there’s no future in it.”

“I told you we’re a package deal.”

“You did. Yes, you did.”

“You knew that. So what’s the problem? What did I do?”

Ross frowned. He appeared to be struggling to find the right words. “It’s not any one big thing. It’s all the little things. It’s all of it. Adding up to one big thing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She tried to smile. “Come on.”

But he meant it. She saw it in his eyes. He wanted to end it.

The truth of this world is people love you, and then they leave.

He said quietly, “It was a hard month.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Ramona snapped. “I’m the one trying to keep Josh alive every fucking day. What the hell, Ross?”

She’d spent the entire month pushing him away, telling herself she didn’t need a boyfriend. He didn’t have a child, and so he didn’t get what had happened, not really. He wasn’t in the club. So she’d treated him as an outsider.

But she did need him. She needed him a lot. She was realizing this now, just as he was slipping through her fingers.

And then they leave.

“Yes,” Ross said firmly, “it was hard. And it’s going to get even harder. For
you
, Ramona. Bringing Josh back an hour a day for the next month is going to take fifteen pints of medicine. Where are you going to get it?”

“Not from you, obviously,” she shot back.

“That’s not fair, and you know it. If giving blood would keep Josh from dying, I’d do it in a second.” He glared at her. “In a
second
. But it wouldn’t. It’d bring him back for an hour, maybe two, tops. At first, I couldn’t do it because it was . . . horrible. The idea of him drinking my blood was . . .
yeah
, horrible. But now it’s because it’s just pointless.”

“Pointless,” she echoed. A second later, she burst into tears. Ross reached out, but she slapped his hand away. They weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of rage. She could barely speak. “You think I could simply let him die? You think dying would be best for him?”

“Ramona, look at you. How much more of this can you take?”

She blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

But she knew.

You sucked a kid’s cock with these lips today.

“How much more can
he
take?” Ross said. “He has no real choices. No friends. Just an hour or two terrified this time will be the last time.
It’s changing him. Something is. His personality is completely different now. Can’t you see that? He’s angry all the time. He’s actually violent.”

Josh
was
getting violent. The fact that Ross was right about that too only made it worse.

“This isn’t about Josh or me,” Ramona lashed back. “This is about you running away when things get rough.”

Like every other goddamn man in her life.

“You don’t understand. I really care about you and—”

“And this is how you show it? By running away? You could have had everything. You could have had
me
.” Her voice jumped in pitch as she watched him stand.
“So that’s it? You’re leaving me?”

Ross closed his eyes. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

It was too much for him. Of course it was.

“Don’t go,” she said. Despite her anger, she still wanted him. “Please.”

“There’s really nothing more to talk about. I’m sorry.”

She stood up. She wanted to stop him. Bar the door with her body if necessary. The alcohol and the usual head rush sent her toppling against the table, scattering dishes.

“Jeez, are you okay?” he said.

She stumbled against him and held on. “Please stay. I’ll do whatever you want. Anything.”

She tried to kiss him. He gripped her arms and held her at arm’s length.

“
No
, Ramona. God!”

She cried harder. He looked at her as if she were a stranger. As if she were dirt. Like Mitch had.

“You have no idea what I’ve done for Josh!” she screamed. “And what I would do. I would do anything.
Anything.
I would give the same to you, but you don’t want it!”

“God, listen to yourself!” he shouted back at her. His volume stunned her into silence. He regained his composure by rubbing his face with his hands.“You’re slowly killing yourself, and if I stay, I’d end up right there with you. You’re out of blood, Ramona. Out of
friends, out of money. Anything, huh? What’s next? Would you sell your house? Live on the street? Prostitute yourself—”

“I would never do that!”

Ross stared at her face. “I can’t believe it. Oh my God.”

“I said I wouldn’t!”

“Whoa. You already have. Haven’t you?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

He started for the door. “It doesn’t matter.”

She followed. “Don’t you dare look down on me. If you’d given me even a single pint, I wouldn’t have done it. It’s your fault!”

He shook his head in disgust. “I don’t want to hear any more. You’re crazy. I have to get out of here right now before I do something I’ll regret later.”

She grabbed at him again. “No, no,
please
. I’m sorry—”

Her head snapped to the side from the force of the slap. She rubbed her stinging cheek and stared at him in amazement.

He backed away, looking scared. “Oh my God. Oh, fuck. I’m sorry. But just . . . just please stay away from me.”

Ramona saw him walk toward the front door. He moved slowly, as if carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Poor Ross. Poor Mitch. They use me and throw me away and feel sorry for themselves.
She followed close behind.

If looks could kill, he would have been dead already.

“I’m not crazy.”

He turned, surprised to see her there.

The wine bottle caught him on the side of the head with a hollow thud. He staggered but didn’t fall.
Not good enough.

She swung again and missed. His backhand caught her on the chin and sent her reeling. The world spun as she stumbled against the dining room table.

Ross fell to his knees, cupping his head in his hands. He groaned.

She’d dropped the bottle. It was gone. She went into the kitchen and picked up the cast iron skillet in which she’d fried the bacon and prepared the cheese sauce. It felt heavy in her hand. It was still warm.

Then she returned to the living room. Ross was back on his feet.

“Look,” he said in a daze. “This is ridiculous—”

His eyes shifted to the skillet in her hand and flashed with alarm. As she raised her arm, he came at her and shoved her against the wall. Pictures of Josh toppled off their hooks and fell to the floor. The momentum made him stagger. She took another step toward him, and this time he slapped her again. She staggered back with a yelp. For several seconds, they stood with their hands on their knees and tried to regain their senses.

“Please, Ramona,” he said. “This is crazy.”

“I’m not crazy!”

He looked up as the skillet smashed into his face. The impact vibrated up her arm. He fell back against the wall with a loud crash and slid down onto his rear.

“Stop!” he howled.

His nose looked like a burst tomato. He spit blood and pieces of teeth. He cowered with his arms raised in a pathetic attempt to defend himself. The sleeves of his sports jacket dripped with cheese sauce.

Ramona stared at him and raked air into her lungs in long, shuddering breaths. Her lips tingled. Her entire body felt shot up with Novocaine.

Ross crawled toward freedom. He made it halfway to the front door.

“Oh no you don’t,” she slurred. “We’re still talking.”

He raised his hand and tried to wave her away.

“I’M NOT CRAZY!”

The skillet slammed against the back of his head. He went down like a sack of meat. His legs twitched and went still.

She dropped the skillet and pulled at her hair. “Don’t you dare look down on me.
FUCKER!
”

Blood pooled around his head and clotted on the carpet. She wondered how she was going to get it out. She remembered reading in a magazine that Native Americans once used blood as a wood stain.

She staggered back to the kitchen looking for Tupperware. Her
mind reeled. The place was a mess; she’d never get it cleaned up. She pulled Josh’s
Jake and the Never Land Pirates
mug from a cupboard. In a drawer, she picked out a turkey baster but tossed it aside. She grabbed a roll of Bounty paper towels and headed back into the living room.

Ross lay in the same spot where she’d left him.

Ramona fell to her knees next to the body and began sopping up blood, which she wrung out into the mug.

“I didn’t mean it,” she sobbed. “It was an accident.”

Yes, that’s all it was.

“I’m sorry, Ross. I didn’t want this.”

He didn’t answer.

You know what they say,
her brain taunted her.
Hire slow, fire fast.

She had to call the police. But if she did, they’d take her away, and nobody would look after Josh. He’d die and never wake up again. No, she couldn’t do that. She’d put Ross in the storage room in the basement until she figured out what to do. It was so hard to think properly.

First, she had to get his blood. He would have wanted that.

She tottered back into the kitchen, opened several drawers, and pulled out a pair of scissors and a handful of Glad trash bags. She laid the bags on the floor next to the body. She rolled him onto the bags and went to work. The scissors were good and sharp. She sliced open the jacket, the shirt. Then the cooling flesh underneath. She focused on the major blood pathways in the neck, thighs, and inner arms. Without a working heart to pump blood through them, they weren’t very productive. Blood congealed fast. Even so, she ended up with more on herself than where she wanted it.