Blacktop Wasteland(51)

“I ain’t never heard you talk about this boy Tre Cook before. But his house is within walking distance of Precision Auto. So, I’m gonna ask you again. Did you do it?”

Javon ran his hands over his face the same way his father had a few moments earlier. He turned and glared out the window. When he spoke, his voice didn’t crack or waver.

“I was just trying to help. Mama told Aunt Jean we might lose the shop.”

Beauregard punched the dashboard. The old leather split just like Butch Thompson’s scalp. Javon flinched and pressed himself against the door of the truck. Beauregard grabbed him by his arm and shook him.

“What did I tell you? Didn’t I tell you that you didn’t have to worry about that? Jesus Christ, Javon, do you even know how much trouble you could get into? They could send you to juvie, and trust and believe you don’t want that! What if somebody had been in there working? Goddamn it, boy, what was you thinking?”

Beauregard had never hit his boys. For that matter, he had never hit Ariel. His mother had slapped him around a few times and his father had gone ballistic. He didn’t let his kids walk all over him, though. He demanded their respect, and when he didn’t get it, he let them know accordingly. The desire to strike one of them for some transgression had never been stronger than his desire to assure them that they were loved.

Until today. A part of him (the part that loved the thrill of driving, perhaps?) wanted to slap Javon right in the mouth.

“I just wanted Mama to stop crying!” Javon yelled.

“What?”

“You don’t know because you always gone. She don’t cry in front of you. But whenever you ain’t home, by the time she puts us to bed she cries. She was telling Aunt Jean on the phone that every time you leave, she scared the next time she sees you it gonna be in a casket. She always talking to her about she don’t want you to do stuff that gonna get you in trouble!” Javon said. He was weeping now. Tears and words flowing freely in equal measure.

Beauregard let go of his arm.

“I thought if the other place was gone, you wouldn’t have to do the bad stuff. I thought things would get better. I don’t want you to die, Daddy,” he said. He grabbed the tail of his T-shirt and wiped his nose.

Beauregard clenched his jaw. He moved his head around in a circle like he was taking in his surroundings for the first time. A nasty bubble of acid was trying to work its way up his esophagus.

“Javon, I ain’t gonna die. Not no time soon. And even if I do, that still don’t mean you gotta try and take over. You ain’t the man of the house. You just a twelve-year-old boy. That’s all you need to be. That man of the house shit will get you hurt. Trust me,” he said finally.

“Mama said you did when your Daddy left. She said you did what you had to do,” Javon said. His tears had slowed to a trickle. He sniffed, then let out a wet cough.

“Don’t do what I did, Javon. I ain’t nobody you should be trying to be like. I made a lot of mistakes. Terrible mistakes. The only good things I’ve done is marrying your Mama and having you and Darren and your sister. The things I had to do hurt a lot more people than they helped. I was trying to be something I wasn’t ready to be. Just like you did,” Beauregard said.

He could see himself in the driver’s seat of the Duster. Thirteen years old. His foot on the gas. The horrified faces of the three men that had been talking to his Daddy.

“Are you going to tell on me?” Javon asked.

Beauregard snapped his head to the right. “No. No, I’m not going to tell on you. Was that Tre boy with you?”

“No, I … I snuck out by myself. I told him I was meeting a girl.”

“The only people that know is me and you. And that’s the way it’s gonna stay. But you gotta promise me something, and I mean you gotta swear to me, boy.”

“Okay.”

Beauregard studied the horn in the center of the steering wheel.

“I ain’t gonna tell you it’s wrong, because you know it’s wrong. You gotta promise no matter how bad you think things are, you won’t never do anything like this again. You start down a road like this and before you know it you can’t find your way back. You lose yourself. One day you wake up and you’re just this thing that does shit and don’t feel nothing. And that’s the worst thing you can be. I can’t let that happen to you. I’m your Daddy and it’s my job to protect you. Even if that means protecting you from yourself. Promise me you won’t ever do anything like this again,” Beauregard said.

“I promise.”

Beauregard put his arm around Javon and pulled him close.

“I love you, boy. As long as I got breath in my body, I’m gonna be there for you. My Daddy wasn’t always there for me. I ain’t gonna do that to you.” He hugged him tight then released him.

“I love you too,” Javon said.

Beauregard started the truck, but before he could put it in gear, Javon asked him a question that stopped him cold. It was a question he had expected him to ask one day. In some respects, it made sense he would ask the question now, after his Montage blood had made itself known in spectacular fashion.

“What happened to your Daddy?” Javon asked.

Beauregard sat back in the truck and let out a mirthless chuckle.

“My Daddy? My Daddy was like a thunderstorm in a world of gentle breezes. That’s the way he tore through life. That’s the way he raised me,” Beauregard said.