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��o Would you like to join uth?"
"Who the hell?" I say, and am surprised at
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; the quiver in my voice. I sound afraid.
§ And my phony mother cuts me with her eyes and puts a fin-
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E ger to her suddenly pursed lips in a shh gesture. And I realize what
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-; I've always known: That she likes Charity best because she failed
� her most.
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And Bucky Tooth says, "Where are my mannerth? My name
v' ith Tucker."
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So I say, "Mother Tucker." And my mom snaps and throws
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Oci,,e � one of my sister's old, flattened square slippers at me and I laugh loud
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to cover a new feeling creeping in that I can't name, and my mother, surely
picking up on the tension I've brought, screams that Tucker is our cock sucking
guardian angel and what kind of a degenerate am I anyway? At least that's
what I hear.
And I put my finger to my pursed lips and try to make her feel stupid,
to go along with how she sounds and looks. And I say, "Mother, it's good to
have you awake."
Charity groans and narrows her eyes at me. She thinks I'm ruining
everything. I meet her eyes and mimic her groan and tell her that everything's
already been ruined.
desperate.
"Perhapth we're off to a bad thtart, Benjamin," Tucker says cheerful but
"The name's Benny. Not Benjamin. Tucker, I don't know if mom has
gotten to this part yet but I was named for her favorite drug. The benny." An
outrageous lie, but I say it thoughtfully so it doesn't sound like one. 'Tm not
sure why you're here," I continue, loudly, pouncing on every syllable with just
the right amount of affect. "But, I assure you. You've got your work cut out for
you." I lean against the frame of my sister's doorway; I cross my arms snug
against my chest for punctuation and imagine I look imposing.
"Benny, please. For me. Won't you, please," my sister says. "He's a
gift. A gift from God. A real live manifestation of my prayers," she
wheezes. She inhales as deeply as her body will allow and then really gets YJ
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going. "An angel sent from heaven! He's here to help with my, my re- -g
cov-e-ree!" Chirp d1jrp. Cough cough.
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"Charity, Charity, pleath. You've got yourthelf in a dither,"
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Tucker drones. He waves his hand across his torso stopping to stroke �
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the message on hi chest. His index finger lingers on the glittery ��