Devils Unto Dust(68)

“Great,” I tell him. “Glad to hear it. The ropes stay on.”

Pa scowls at me, but he doesn’t argue. Micah unwinds the rope from the stable hook and wraps it around his own wrist. He tugs roughly and Pa staggers to his feet. No one helps steady him, and Micah doesn’t wait for him to regain his balance before starting to walk off. You lie down with dogs you expect to get fleas, and Pa is getting a tight leash and no mercy all the way to Glory.





54.


Levi’s not on guard this morning, so Curtis merely nods at the stranger while we wait for the gate to open. He barely blinks at Pa, but I reckon he’s seen more exciting things than a man with his hands bound. We clear the wall and I breathe a sigh of relief; maybe things didn’t work out the way I planned, but at least it’s half over. I found Pa, for better or for worse. Now all that’s left is the long walk back and a short good-bye to everything I love.

I step into the desert and take a deep breath of the hot air, letting it fill up my lungs like it could scald away the disease inside me. After a night in a strange bed, the desert almost feels like coming home. It’s comforting, to see the barren land and the fat tumbleweeds doing their lazy roll. Things out here are simpler, purer. I know the danger in the desert, I know what to expect. A shake won’t disappoint you, won’t lie to you or let you down. They kill you because they’re hungry, because their liquified brains tell them to attack. When they hurt you, it’s clean, sharp, without malice or intent behind it. I can respect that. You can’t hate the rawboned dog that bites you, only the master that starved him.

Curtis lets out a whoop that makes me jump, and he claps his hands together.

“Half done and then some,” he says, smiling. “Let’s get you folks home.”

He sets a fast pace; the boys are burning on full stomachs and have energy to spare. Pa drags Micah back some, hungover and protesting. I lag behind, too; I should have eaten more at breakfast, but even thinking about food makes me feel nauseous. I push myself to keep up, but I’m so tired I don’t know how long I can last.

We clear the crag and the rocks under our feet grow smaller and smaller until they’re only dust. An ache starts to pound at my temples, and I drink some water to keep it at bay.

“Willie, darlin’, give me some of that, there’s my girl,” Pa calls to me. “I’m parched.”

He does look pretty pitiful, and I reckon his head is as bad as mine. Wordlessly I cut over and hold up the canteen to help him drink. Pa downs the water like he’s dying of thirst, his throat moving rapidly.

“Thanks,” he says, and wipes his mouth with his tied wrists. “How are the little ones doing?”

“Fine,” Micah answers for me. “No thanks to you.”

Pa glares at him and looks back to me. “You know, this ain’t necessary,” he says, holding up his wrists. “Where am I gonna go?”

“Shut up,” Micah says.

“I’m talking to Willie, not you,” Pa yells at him.

“You shut up or I’ll gag you,” Micah yells back.

“Both of you shut up,” I order, pressing my fingers to my painful head. “Give him to me, Micah.”

“Willie, he’s trying to play you,” Micah says quietly, like I don’t already know that.

“Just give him over before you both do something stupid.” I stare down Micah and Pa until they both look away. I hold out my hand, and with a huff, Micah throws me the other end of the rope. “Catch up with the others. I’ve got him for now.”

Micah shakes his head and runs to catch up with Sam. I start walking at a slower pace, wrapping the rope around my hot arm. My skin is burning, the fever inside me raging unchecked.

“Willie,” Pa starts, but I won’t look at him. “Willie, I don’t blame you for doin’ it this way. I know I ain’t been a good father to you, or to the others. After your ma—well you know what it were like. I’m sorry for that, truly I am. But I always loved y’all. You believe that much, right?”

More than anything, I want to believe it. But it doesn’t change anything.

“It’s too late for sorry, Pa,” I tell him. “And maybe you really do love us. But you love yourself more.”

“I can make it right—”

“Just stop,” I tell him. “I got nothing more to say to you and you got nothing I want to hear.”

He still tries. He tells me he’s sorry, he tells me he didn’t have a choice; all the same lies and excuses I’ve heard from him before. I stop listening, letting his voice fade away until it’s a soft buzz in the background. My head feels full of cotton and mud and the lack of sleep is costing me, making it harder to sort out my thoughts. I stare at the ground for so long that after a while I don’t even see the desert anymore. Everything is indistinct, one mile of scorched sand interchangeable with another.

When Pa’s voice grows loud again I pass him back to Micah, who manages only a few minutes before handing him off to Curtis. I don’t know what Curtis says to him but it shuts Pa up quick enough.

I feel dizzy, like I’ve been spinning in circles. When they were smaller I would hold the twins by the arms and twirl them around until their feet left the ground. I watch my own feet and see it’s not me moving, but the ground; miles of tarbush and grit pass under my boot heels, and my eyes grow hot and blurry as the desert flashes by.