Member-only story
Break This
Something’s gonna get broken. Again. Fucking kids. What would happen if I just quit picking up after the whole damned bunch of ‘em? Quit feeding them. Let Stevie push Lizzie into traffic or down the cellar steps. More likely Lizzie’ll grab something sharp and cut him. She’s her Dad’s kid all right. I light a cigarette and cheer myself up with visions of the chaos to come.
There she comes. Six pm on the dot. Without fail, my neighbor five doors down comes up the road every night at six. She’s never said a word to any of us in the whole eight years since we moved here. I used to smile and nod. Now I just watch her. She’s old, Jesus, she’s old, but walks ramrod straight and slow. I forgot it was coming up on six or I’d have had my smoke out back. She’s too creepy.
Finally I hear the whine of our Pontiac. Steve’s not so late tonight; maybe he’ll have hit the sweet spot between bastard and goofball. I stub out the smoke and stand up to see how he handles the turn into the drive. Good, he misses the mailbox but I can tell he’s already well on his way past goofball and on his way to bastard. Turning to go into the house I see that the old bat is standing stock still just shy of our property line.
“You let him hit you again, you got it coming.” Her voice is shockingly strong and clear.
