To Shatters

Some nights you hold tight to joy, ‘cause you know it don’t stay long.

To Shatters

I stood between Lee and Grandpa Jims, watchin' Grandma Netty and RayRay sing. Lee kept rollin' his eyes and huffin'. He was already three sheets to the wind. I don't really understand what that sayin' means, but folks say it a lot about my stepdaddy.

Lee lit up a cigarette. "Only faggits sing."

Grandpa Jimmy chimed in, "What about Merle Haggard and Johnny Cash?"

"Jesus, Jimmy! I'm talkin' about show tunes. For fuck's sakes." He smashed his cigarette out in the ashtray and, with that said, "I'm goin' outside." Stomped away and let the screen door slam with a sharp bang that made everyone flinch.

Grandpa Jims looked down at me and said, "You'd think he was the fuckin' child."

I asked, "What's he mad about now?"

He took a long drink and said, "That boy's problem is he won't ever be himself. And all of us have to pay for it." He downed the rest of his beer and stumbled off.

Too bad I couldn't ask Donna Jean about what "faggit" meant. Didn't sound good whatever it was. Plus, I liked show tunes. I liked seein' Grandma Netty up there in the shine, her sparkle top sparklin' under the lights, singin' into RayRay's eyes, lookin' so happy. You couldn't have knocked the smile from my face if you tried.

But then Lee knocked over the speaker and fell back into the glass table, and it shattered with a boom that stopped the music cold. It was like time froze 'cept for Lee. He turned over, puttin' his hands right into the glass, tryin' to get up. The rest of us, just frozen. The broken glass tinkled against the floor, tiny crystal sounds mixin' with Lee's heavy breathin'.

He kept sayin', "I'm alright. I'm alright." Lee's hands were covered in blood. He wiped them on his face, and red smear across his face, looked right out of a scary movie.

"What the fuck are you lookin' at, motherfuckers?" He kicked his beer bottle across the room. It rolled and boomed without breakin' against the wall.

Grandpa Jims walked up to him and tried to hand him paper towels.

Lee jerked them out of his hands. "Don't fuckin' touch me, old man. You ain't my fuckin' father and you'll never be my fuckin' father." He stumbled back outside, and I hoped he'd bleed out and just die already. Ya know that's a thing. A way you can die. Your blood just drains from you until your heart has no more to pump, and then The End. I don't remember how I come to know this information, but it's a real thing.

My momma rushed me to get a dustpan. "So fuckin' tired of cleanin' up after this man. He fuckin' ruins every GOD DAMN thing. Our weddin' day. At least six days out of the week. Fuckin' asshole."

I was glad they were back to singin'… so no one could hear my momma's bad mouth. She was fired up and fueled by tequila. There was bound to be a fight. I left her to the curse words and glass and moved up closer to the stage. Guitar, fiddle, a piano, and a banjo player were makin' me want to move my feet. The music filled the room, warm and alive. Reader, you would have been dazzled.

Grandma Netty said live music is the only reason humans are still alive. Passed down stories sung around hearts that were broken or in jubilee. Leavin' a remembrance to dance in our brains and to swim in our veins, and to stomp from our boots. She said it was a real song and dance livin'. I don't know what all she meant, but it had a feelin'. I loved a dance party. People lookin' into each other's eyes, smiles, slow dances, and lip kisses. The lights were perfect, and I hoped Lee wouldn't come back in and ruin it.

"Hey, Sir Charles, you wanna dance with me?" Grandma Netty jumped down off the stage and put me right onto the coffee table and spun me around.

"You havin' a good time?"

"Yes! This might be one of the best nights of my life. Everybody's all dressed up. You look so pretty. Look right outta one of our movies." I spun her around and smiled real big.

RayRay slid over to us on his knees. Grandma Netty let out a howl of laughter.

He popped up and asked me, "You ready to perform in our little magic show?"

"You know I was born ready."

I jumped on his back and he hopped onto the stage, where I hopped right off and grabbed my cardboard box of magic. It had a heart on it, and in the middle of that heart, it said MAGIC. RayRay had a real magic suitcase, and it even had a lock on it.

The music died down. RayRay held his arms out to the audience. "Everything you are about to see is real. As real as Houdini Hale's mustache." He winked at our audience. "Tonight, I, The Great Frankie RayRay West and the ever Hoooooly Hurricane Houdini Hale will mesmerize and surprise you."

Then I chimed in, "Maybe even make your eyes pop right out of your head." I lifted my head from my magic box, and I was wearin' shades.

"Houdini Hale, why are you wearin' shades inside? You nervous about your first big show?"

"Of course not! Just my eyes are feelin' funny." I rubbed them from underneath the glasses.

"Do you think you can go on with the show?" He paused. "Now you got me worried. Let me see." He whisked my shades off and I was wearin' big goggly eyes.

"I told ya my eyes were feelin' funny."

The crowd let out a big laugh as RayRay rolled his eyes.

And for fifteen minutes we were standin' on stage makin' canes and flowers appear. Findin' people's cards with swords. People were clappin' and laughin'. They were eatin' out of our hands. For a minute, I closed my eyes and wished Sandy, Buns, and Mister Bones into the room. When I opened my eyes, they were in the front row, holdin' to beers and cheerin' us on.

RayRay would put his hand on my head and push my hat down over my eyes and we didn't practice that part, but I'd pretend I couldn't see and I'd almost walk off the stage and he'd grab me by my jacket and I'd lean out into the audience and tip my hat and give 'em a wink. Maybe I didn't have a daddy, but I had a RayRay. I'd let myself pretend sometimes that he belonged to me. At the end of our show, he lifted me into the air. Might as well have been fireworks in my sky.

Made my whole body smile.

……

This kid is always trying to find joy in the wreckage. Thanks for reading us.

Hearts,

Hale&Jack