Blacktop Wasteland(14)

“Mama, why didn’t you tell me about this policy?”

Ella fixed those cool eyes on him. “Because it wasn’t none of your damn business.”

Ella stretched her thin arm out to the drawer beside her bed and pulled out a pack of More cigarettes and a lighter. She lit one up and inhaled deeply. A thin trail of smoke leaked out of the hole in her throat and encircled her head like a dirty halo. Beauregard rubbed his hand over his face. A long sigh hissed out of his mouth.

“Mama, that policy counts as an asset. That asset counts against your Medicaid. Now you’re behind on your payments to the nursing home. Do you hear what I’m saying? They talking about kicking you out of here,” he said.

“And you and Little Miss Big Booty don’t want me dirtying up your fancy double-wide, right? You know she never brings the boys up here to see me? I’ve seen Ariel more than I’ve seen Darren and Javon and her mama don’t even like black people anymore,” Ella said. Beauregard grabbed a metal chair from the corner and sat down close to his mother’s bed.

“That ain’t just on Kia. We’ve both been real busy and I’m sorry for that. Mama, look, you know I asked you when you first got sick to come live with us. You said no. You said you didn’t want to live under my roof, under my rules. ‘What it look like, a mother letting her child tell her what to do?’ Remember saying that? Now it’s just … you need a lot of help now. More than we can give you.” He reached out and touched his mother’s free hand. The skin felt like crepe paper. Ella took another drag on her cigarette and moved her hand to her lap.

“You said it but you didn’t mean it,” she said. Her voice was a low sharp rasp. Beauregard leaned back in the chair and stared up at the acoustical tiles in the ceiling. He’d gone down this particular road a thousand times over the years. He didn’t need a map or a signpost to see where it was headed.

“Mama, we going to have to get rid of that policy. Ain’t no way around that because you ain’t got anywhere else to go,” Beauregard said. Ella took another long deep drag off her cigarette.

“If your Daddy was here, I wouldn’t need to be in no nursing home. If he hadn’t walked out on me when I needed him the most I wouldn’t be here sitting in my own piss. I’d be in my own house with my own husband. But when it came to handling his responsibilities we both know Anthony Montage was about as useful as a white crayon, don’t we?” Ella asked. Beauregard let the question hang in the air between them.

“He left me too, Mama,” he said. His deep baritone had dropped four octaves. The words seemed to emanate from his chest, not his mouth. If Ella heard him she wasn’t in the mood to acknowledge it.

“He should have never walked out on me. Goddamn black bastard. He promised me he would always take care of me,” Ella mumbled. Beauregard saw her eyes begin to glisten. He stood up and put the chair back.

“I gotta go, Mama,” he said. Ella waved her cigarette toward the door.

Beauregard walked out of the room, down the hall and out of the nursing home. He would have to ask Mrs. Talbot how his mother was getting cigarettes. He couldn’t stand watching her smoke. It didn’t revolt him. He just couldn’t stand watching her do that to herself. He was more disturbed by her eyes welling up with tears. He could count on one hand how many times he’d actually seen his mother cry. She gave up her tears as sparingly as she gave out compliments. If she was weeping, she was in terrible pain. Either spiritually or physically or both. Ella Montage was not an easy woman to love but seeing the reality of her fragility pierced him in places that were soft and frightened. It was like someone had shot him in the stomach then shoved their thumb in the hole.

By the time he got to the garage, it was lunchtime. Kelvin was sitting at his desk eating a cheeseburger with the radio turned up to eleven. A Stevie Wonder song was warbling through the busted speakers. Kelvin had his feet up on the desk as he bobbed his head in time with the music.

“Get your feet down,” Beauregard said as he entered the office.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in. I figure I could put my feet up since I was the only employee who had actually done some work today,” he said between bites. When Beauregard didn’t laugh, he moved his feet and put the burger down. “Hey, you alright?” Kelvin said.

“Just got done talking to Mama,” Beauregard said.

Kelvin sucked in a breath. “Aw man, Aunt Ella being her usual wonderful self?” Kelvin said.

Beauregard grabbed a beer out of the mini-fridge. Even though he had chided Boonie for day drinking, he needed something after dealing with his mother.

“There was some mix-up with her insurance and they might be kicking her out the home. Unless I can pay it off,” Beauregard said. His head was beginning to throb.

“Did you, um, go see Boonie?” Kelvin asked.

“Yeah. He ain’t got nothing. So I’m right where I started. Nah, actually it’s worse cuz I gotta pay the nursing home,” Beauregard said. He killed half the beer with one sip.

“That’s one of the perks of having your own business. Beer for lunch,” Kelvin said.

Beauregard chuckled. “I see you got Shane’s truck up on the rack. What was it?” he said.

“Fucking velocity boot. I was hoping it was the rack and pinion. Don’t worry, I already ordered it,” Kelvin said.