So. Long(216)

I wave him off as I trudge toward the house.

Thug One jogs to catch up. “Sir. You should know, I just warned the paparazzi to keep their distance. I caught one with a telephoto lens slinking along the fence at the road.”

The first couple of times you catch paparazzi taking photos, it’s a little exciting, flattering even. The eightieth time you find them lurking around, willing to cross all socially acceptable lines, trying their damnedest to get a shot of your cock hanging out when you take a leak at the corner of the house, or a picture of your bare ass on a private beach that you paid huge amounts of money to rent just so you could run around naked if you want to—not so flattering, not so exciting.

Now it just pisses me off when they follow me. Find me. Stalk me.

I thought I knew the price of fame—no one gets it until they are famous, but by then it’s too late.


* * *

I let myself in through the backdoor, holding my breath, hoping Tuffy doesn’t start barking his fool head off. As I creep through the kitchen, only the ancient clock on the wall acknowledges my presence with its tick-tick-tick keeping time with each step I take.

Tuffy’s getting old. Must be going deaf, poor boy.

I round the corner and a shock of white shining in the pitch darkness of the hallway pulls me up short.

“Tuff, what’re you doing?” I kneel to take his fluffy head in my hands, scratching him behind his velveteen ears the way he always liked.

He sits, his back leg scratching at my hand as he grunts and groans, pushing his ear against my palm. He rolls to the floor, presenting his belly for a scratch. His soft fur is about as well-kept as Nan’s silvered hair—of course, considering they both visit their respective hairdressers every other week, it’s not surprising.

He lets out a whine and a little yodel.

“Shush. You’ll wake Pops and Nan.” I drop to my ass and pull Tuffy’s head into my lap. “At least you smell better than the day we found you.”

Lou and I walked along Silo Road, picking up cans. She needed—what was it? Oh, a new backpack for school. Nan tried to give her one of my old ones, but her momma wouldn’t have it. Said she wasn’t taking charity from snotty bitches who look down their noses on her. As far as I could tell, Nan never did any such thing, but that was Lou’s mom.

Lou and I figured if we earned the money by recycling aluminum cans, that wasn’t charity.

We dragged our half-full garbage bags of cans through the grass as we trudged along the side of the road, the sun beating down on us. A whimper is followed by laughter.

Lou didn’t hesitate. She plunged off through the trees, following the sound.

We dropped our bags a few yards into the woods, jumping over brambles and brush as we went deeper. I almost ran Lou over when she stopped. I grabbed her shoulders, and we stumbled to the edge of the line of trees.

Lonnie Fisher laughed as he pitched a rock at a sad-looking lump of fur huddled on the creek bank, half in and half out of the water. The pup yelped when the stone struck its back leg. Its eyes darted from Lonnie to Darren Bledsoe standing on the far side of it, then at the creek rushing behind it.

Lonnie, a sophomore, was a year older and still bigger than me. He was a helluva lot bigger than Lou. But that didn’t slow her one bit. Before I could get hold of her, she thrashed through the last clump of weeds, rushing Lonnie. He never saw her coming.

With both hands, she shoved him into the creek. “You big bully!”

Darren pointed at Lonnie, laughing like an idiot.

I pushed Lou behind me. “Get the dog, Lou. Let’s go.”

Lou ran to the pup. “I got you. It’s gonna be okay.”

Darren stepped into the water, like he was going to stop her from taking the puppy. She waded to him and jumped a bit like she was going to head butt him, faking him out. He fell on his ass with a splash.

She nodded. “Good. Stay there.”

Lonnie dragged himself to the bank, muddy to his elbows, his eyes hard as stones. “You can’t leave with that dog. He’s mine.”

Lou turned her body, as though shielding the sopping pup from Lonnie. “No, he’s not. You don’t deserve him.”

Lonnie climbed from the creek, dripping and red in the face. “You little bitch whore—just like your momma.”

My fist balled and my gut hardened.

“Lou, run.” I glared at Lonnie. “Don’t talk to her that way.”

He laughed. “Oh, and what are you gonna do about it? Her momma’s a whore and Loula Mae’s gonna be the same thing. Everybody knows it. Maybe someday I’ll make her my whore.”

I jumped at Lonnie, taking my best shot at his face.

He grabbed my shoulders and tried to throw me aside. I dug in my heels, gripping his arms and wrestling him to the ground. But he managed to flip me over and punched me in the eye. Pain flared through my brain.