3

Daryl talked to her whenever he could. She became a shining light in a dark place. He would always be on time for art class, but would never stay for a full day of school. Sadie told him about the great artists she admired, her favorite movements. He understood none of it. He took in her brown-blonde hair and her sweet disposition and it nourished him. He didn't feel like a bad guy when she was with him. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair, and wanted to feel her hands tangled in his. She told him about her brother, Jesse, and his drug problems. He told her a bit about Merle; she, like the rest of the town, knew about Merle. He was sure she knew about his dad too. But he didn't talk about that. He told her about his alcoholic mother. He did not, however, mention that he hadn't seen her for about three weeks. So the surprise in the house was palpable the afternoon that Daryl came home to find his mom sitting in their kitchen like she never left.

Jolene Dixon was a woman who had had the best intentions. She had intended to raise Merle with Dallas, because Dallas could have been Merle's father. She had intended to be a good mother to her sons, and she had intended to protect them from harm. Sometimes all she had was just good intentions.

Daryl walked in on her sitting at the dining room table around two in the afternoon, with a half drunk bottle of cheap red wine next to her.

She and her son made eye contact, and Daryl slowly sat down across from her.

"The house is so quiet," she finally said.

"Dad's at work and I don't know where the hell Merle is," Daryl replied evenly.

"Daryl, I don't like it when you say 'hell'," she said softly.

Daryl shot up to his feet. "Well, I don't like it when you just up and leave! What the fuck was that, mom? Huh?" He hadn't noticed it, but he was suddenly up in her face. He instantly felt sorry for it when she shrank away from him.

"I know, honey," she whispered.

Daryl leaned against the edge of the kitchen sink, his back to her. "It's two in the afternoon, mom. Are you drunk?" Silence. "Is it so bad? Are we so bad?"

She came up behind him and tried to hug him. "No, no, baby, you're not bad, not at all," she began.

She smelled like more than one bottle of wine, and he found himself shaking.

"I went to Atlanta, baby," she whispered into his shoulder. "I want to take you and your brother back with me. Just us."

Daryl turned to face her. "Dad?"

Jolene Dixon shook her little head determinedly. "No."

He left her in the kitchen and went out to search for Merle. Walking down onto main street, he ran into Sadie as he passed the post office.

"Daryl!" she called excitedly. She nearly sprinted up to him. "I didn't see you in school today, after art class."

He ran his hands through his hair instinctively and reminded himself of a preening peacock. "Yeah, I had to leave," he answered nonchalantly, implying that the subject was closed. "Have you seen Merle?"

She shook her head and her hair tumbled around her shoulders. "Nah, I haven't seen him, but I'll help you look," she replied eagerly.

Daryl shrugged his shoulders in a most James Dean-esque way, and she fell into step. She noticed her was heading to the forest.

"The woods?" she asked.

Daryl sighed. "My brother needs to see my mom." The next thing he knew, he was telling this inquisitive artistic spirit all about his hideout with Merle. He had hoped that it would sound stupid to her, sound unappealing. But it was the exact opposite. She was ecstatic, and couldn't wait to see it.

As they approached, Daryl retrieved the hidden ladder from under a fallen tree. He propped it against the side, when he heard a strange sound.

"Stay here til I tell you to come up," he instructed as he climbed up. As he peered into the belly of the car, he found the culprit of the sound. Merle was down there alright. Lying on top of a naked girl, butt-naked himself. The sounds that the two were making were beginning to carry outside of the car. Daryl's face turned all shades of red and purple. He scrambled back down the ladder, and onto the grass by Sadie.

"What's the matter?" she asked. "Is someone in there?"

"No," he answered quickly. "No one there at all." She looked at him, and he knew that she could tell he was lying. "I should get you back to town."

After walking Sadie home, Daryl sauntered slowly back to his own. Their dad was done with work, and Daryl had no idea what would happen when Dallas saw Jolene. He wanted to warn Merle. He wanted Merle there with him. The family's old truck was in the driveway and Daryl stopped in his tracks.

"What's the matter, little brother, stuck in quicksand?"

Daryl turned and thankfully saw Merle walking up the road to him. "Mom's back," he could barely say in a whisper. It carried on the wind to Merle's ears, and he stopped too. "She already must have had at least two bottles of wine." He gave his brother a dirty look. "Went lookin' for you. Found you in the boxcar."

"So fucking what, Sherlock," Merle spat. "We got bigger fish to fry. He began a steady march toward the house, with Daryl not far behind.

What they walked in on was nothing new. Their mom was in the far corner of the living room, their dad in the corner closest to them. They looked like two washed-up, drunken cage fighters, each displaying small traces of the bloody red badge of close combat. Daryl ran to his moms side, while Merle engaged their dad. "Hitting a woman, Dally," Merle shot dangerously playfully, using their dad's nickname. "A drunk woman? Now, now."

Dallas stepped toward Merle and hissed, "You calm down or you're next, boy!" As Dallas lunged at Merle, Jolene made a grab for Dallas.

"Leave them alone!" she screamed, trying to pull her husband off her son.

Dallas reacted, maybe he was just swatting air, maybe it was intentional. The back of his hand hit the side of Jolene's face, and his big silver ring split her lip open. Daryl saw red and pounced into the fight with Merle, landing some solid hits to his old man's torso. Their mom's screams brought them back into the moment. The brothers turned and she was just kneeling on the floor screaming. Daryl went to check on her, and didn't notice Merle slip out the door.

"He wasn't happy to see me," she stated decidedly. "I don't blame him."

"He couldn't handle it a different way?" Daryl found his voice sounding higher than normal. He found his actions going into autopilot as he wrapped some ice cubes in a cloth napkin. "He's gonna wake up soon," he concluded, handing her the homemade ice pack.

"I'm going to go pack some things. You and Merle make yourselves scarce for a few hours. We're to leave for Atlanta as soon as we can."

Daryl looked at his young mother and wanted to send her away in the car right now, by herself, far away, someplace nice. His gray eyes scanned the room though his long bangs. "Merle's already gone."