"Absolute nakedness was intrusive, confusing to the senses. Paradoxically, it both revealed and diminished identity."
― P.D. James, Innocent Blood
"I hope you washed your hands when making this?" Onne questioned Eugene.
"What in the hell are you doing here?" Daryl struggled out of the bathroom of his trailer to make his way to the kitchen table where supper was ready in a big pot prepared by his brother Eugene. Onne was sitting at the table with a bowl of chili. "Asking my brother if he washed his hands? Did you wash yours?"
Onne took a long look at Daryl, "You need to learn how to fight. I don't understand how'd you let him get the best of you if you had a weapon."
Daryl eyed the mechanic sitting across from him. Eugene found no reason to answer to the cleanliness of his hands. They all sat at the card table that was also the dinner table inside of the trailer of Daryl's home located on the outskirts of the Red Neck Hollar.
Onne kept eating waiting for details to what took place and why. Cleanliness was really a nonfactor because he found the chili was good enough, and he was hungry enough.
"He got you good."
"He fucking did. His crazy ass moves fast. Nothing fucking changed. Says I need to bring a gun for next time. You fucking sitting here is guaranteeing a next damn time."
The pain that Daryl experienced from his sore ribs and the muscle bruising, in general, caused him to wince as he tried to reach for the Ladle.
"You better bring a semi-automatic if your fighting is any indication how you shoot. Pow. Pow." Onne used his two fingers and thumb.
"Bang. Bang." Eugene added for good measure. The two always played off each other, from watching gay porn together with a strange but similar detachment and reading comic books.
"You need to learn to fight."
"I want to know where he learned to fight? I had a fucking crowbar. Eugene says if he catches you, I mean the flower girl here, or Michonne he will shoot and I better have a gun. I am going to ask you again, why are you here?"
"I wouldn't be here if I knew where you put the key to the shop."
"You don't work there anymore. Do you understand that at all? Are you trying to get my brains blown out? Fuck!"
"I need a place to stay."
"You have to be shitting me? You come up in here with a bandaged hand. Eugene removes the wrapping and what do we see? A goddamn ring that is more than my trailer. You ask Eugene to cut it off, and his dumbass would have more than likely tried to do it because you told him to. Then we would have that fucking bastard that you're married to magically appear. He's amped and ready to have killed off my whole damn bloodline, with me included. My Daddy is gone. A couple of my brothers. A few in the Hollar but I'd be damn if I am going to allow you to lead that motherfucker back here to finish the job that he is itching to finish."
"Two men can't get married."
"Yes, they can."
"Not when they both aren't in agreement."
"From what I remember, Michonne was warming up to him. He saved your black ass from drowning when I couldn't. He was the one that held his breath the longest and got your leg free."
"Daryl said he carried you out of the water like a hero." Eugene smiled for a second before his face went all serious like he wasn't interested in the conversation. He resumed his comic book reading while gulping the Chili from his spoon.
The sound of the door had Daryl on edge as Bob entered holding a brown paper bag. The grocery cart was parked right outside.
"Fuck man, announce yourself. I've got a madman that is going to sniff this area soon, and I don't have a fucking gun to even look like I was fucking prepared for death."
"God damn you are a fucking pussy." Onne was disgusted with his cowardice.
"Says...?" Daryl left that hanging there. He knew that Onne caught his drift for he was the only one with a real pussy.
"I will take heed." Mr. Bob advised Daryl. "I had to buy a whole nother bottle of this Tennessee whiskey because I could almost taste death and all I wanted to do was replace the Barbie. Spent some of my drinking money to do it."
"Leave me alone Bob. It was a lesson. Girls need to learn a lesson that they can't just rely on looks. No other way to teach them than to show them how to deal in our man's world."
"They are little girls Onne, and that was Abigail's doll. Why you do that to her Barbie Doll makes no sense."
"What you do?" Daryl was curious.
"Nothing."
Daryl knew not to push, and he didn't. He was going to leave it alone.
"I have a daughter. Her name is Akira. The last time I've seen her was five years ago. She would be 10 now. I have no way to get back to her or how to contact her. It's like her, and her mother just dropped off the face of the earth. It feels like that, and there is something about missing out on her growing that makes me feel a certain way." Bob crumpled the brown paper bag once he had removed the bottle.
"You stop drinking and save up your money, you can get a ticket back to Japan and see them. Ain't nobody dropped off the face of the earth, but you to them." Daryl watched Bob grab a bowl and the Ladle to help himself to some Chili.
"You can't stay here Onne."
"Why not?"
"Because I want to live. I want to see another day. I can see his point. I understand it, and I'm tired of thinking about it and having the shit eat me up inside. Looking back, I knew what was up. At that time I was only 14 years old. I wasn't connecting dots like a grown man would. I didn't see the bigger picture. All I knew was that I was tired of having it taken from me. I was tired and relieved I could be left alone..." Everyone at the table put down their spoons including Onne who stepped aside for Michonne to hear. This was for Michonne to gain understanding if any could be obtained from Daryl's memories or from his words or even understood. Michonne was pushed forward to hear, to listen and Suzanne was off to the side trying to figure out how to relay it all to Sinclaire.
"Looking at it now hurts more than the beat down that I got a couple of days ago. It hurts to know that I allowed something to happen to someone that I love like a sister, like my blood. I feel personally responsible to you and Eugene. Reason number one why I don't have a gun because I would have blown my brains out a long time ago. Looking at it, how he sees it, I can understand why I am to blame...
Michonne rose from the river after a very long time of floating on her back. A great deal of time had lapsed again.
She would never have any memory of taking off the oiled stained coveralls nor an awareness that Daryl was standing guard. Daryl was there for a long while before deciding to take what cloaked her, made her masculine. The responsibility didn't outweigh his commitment to helping Michonne with a solution that he knew was going to be very slow to resolve itself. He watched her emerge and walk toward her home. He shifted his direction with the river between them. The Redneck Hollar engulfed his shadow. His steps led him to a place where he would never find any peace.
There was nothing she could do to keep her mind from creating new demons or blowing life into the ashes. Glimpses of the flowers were off in the distance, blowing in the soft winds, realizing the heaviness of the air if she remained immobilized by fear. Fear of the unknown. The thirteen-year-old wasn't sure why she was in the woods and having to carry her four-year-old self. This mental picture had her Frantic to flee keeping her eyes on the darkening sky squeezing away the last colors of purple and orange hues, blues appearing black. Her only guide was the flowers bright in the darkness. Daisies lined the path, Suzanne's favorite. How could she trust Suzanne at a time like this, flowers, pretty dresses, distractions from the dangers that lurked around every shadowy corner? Or was the Shadow, hiding more of the mysteries from her?
"My Girl Child!"
Uncle Charlie was surprised to see her on the same day she was carted away. She never came back the same day if she was the mechanic and she never came back the way she did just then. This sight caused his heart to go missing in his chest, the visual almost knocked the wind out of him. He struggled to stand, he searched for quick understanding, he was getting old but never tired.
The way the light from the moon shone upon her nude body he wasn't sure if it was a spirit or his girl child. He had no idea who it could be standing before him in all her nakedness. His first worry was if she was hurt, next to why? For him, they were one and the same if he were to think about the weight of things, who harmed her and what led to this?
He put his shotgun down on the Rocker and step down from the porch assured there was no immediate danger. It was way past his bedtime but he would not rest until she came back safely to him. He was prepared to keep vigil.
"You hurt?"
Her response was a strangled whisper, "no."
"Where your clothes be?"
"I don't know." Her voice cracked, opening the dam to release aches seeking relief in way of tears.
She began to cry. Her hand covered her mouth and her arm only successfully shielding one breast while her hand tried to hide her privates down below.
Standing before her, Uncle Charlie had never felt so helpless.
"What you want me to do, My Girl Child?"
"Can you hold me, Daddy?"
"My Girl child." He stepped forward to have her fall into his arms that were still strong enough to hold her up from falling limp. "My Girl Child." He repeated, holding her tightly to him.
She had passed out cold seconds later.
Rick held the Black Barbie with her hair chopped, arm broken off, dress tattered. The story that Abigail told him had him unprepared to feel his own emotions that connected to dark things that hurt and actually go bump in the night. He lost so much time alternating from Sinclaire he felt dizzy. It was after 11:30pm when the door to the bedroom opened Six times, and it wasn't his woman, it wasn't Michonne. The going theme, he wasn't aware was rehearsed from Andre divulged from a private meeting held in Carlton's bedroom.
"Daddy, I can't sleep. I had a bad dream." Marty rubbed his eyes like Andre said he had done.
"Come on."
Knock Knock (creak)
Knock Knock (creak)
Knock (Creak)
Knock Knock (creak)
Tap (creak)
Rick realized he would need to remember WD40. The sound was becoming too much.
The twins were the very last to enter in SpongeBob matching PJs that were too big.
"Stranger Danger."
Rick tilted his head unsure what his Gladys and son Knight were alluding too or if he was still a stranger they feared.
Sinclaire asked, "In here or out there?"
Their answer was never provided verbally, but their actions indicated Stranger Danger wasn't in the bedroom with him, he helped them both who were struggling to climb and find a spot for comfort on the bed. Marty had already claimed a spot on his lap, his head resting on his chest fast asleep while Andre was on one side of him and Jasmine Amber Jean fought for his right side from Abigail. Rick noticed that Billi Jo and Carlton were flexible or too exhausted regarding the day they had earlier to care just as long as they had their Daddy was enough.
The fuss died down and all eyes closed when comfort was found.
Michonne didn't know how she ended up in the spare room. Her naked body concerned her. She took the white sheet and wrapped it around her body to go to her bedroom. Opening the door, she wasn't sure what she was seeing in the dimly lit room before it became evident that there were children that found her room a place to possibly loiter until they littered all over her bed in every position closest to the man that had every emotion that moved to the forefront of his face when he saw her standing there.
She was standing in the bedroom doorway wrapped in a sheet. Sinclaire couldn't get up like he wanted and Rick couldn't speak for fear that he would wake the kids. He hoped he could relay everything he needed by the tears that fell from his eyes. He was happy that she was okay. Sinclair wanted to tell her that he would have gone after her but dealing with the asshole he shared the same body with he had to control a nervous breakdown over Marty being driven away in the BMW and later pissing himself at the car dealership. HE had had a day.
Suzanne caught the blue twinkle fading away, eyes locked on each other, sharing a silent moment of tears. She picked up the twins in such a way to make room for her when Michonne thought there wasn't any space for another body seeking rest. The children were still situated between them. It didn't prevent their hands from finding a way to connect. Rick knew it was Michonne because she linked their pinky fingers before falling fast asleep.
SHE had had a day too.