So Far, So Good       kip williams

Casey was so mad at her he didn't care if she snuck out. She thought he was asleep before leaving for the Alibi. She also thought he couldn't hear her. She'd been wrong about a lot, lately. And he had been mad at her, a lot.

He stayed tucked under the covers pretending to be asleep when she came home. The thing that gave him away was the plug in his ear and the gray wire running to his SilverTone 8 Transistor portable AM radio, hidden beneath the blanket. It was a good one. Dad had given it to him. One of the guys teased him about the black sticker on the back that said, "Made in Japan", but he knew it was a good one. He played with it every night and was always getting stations from far away. He had one from Oklahoma City on, right now and he knew that was a long way. He didn't like country music but it was loud and there was no static. The commercials were funny, too. What he liked most was not being able to hear the stuff going on in the living room. She'd brought somebody home again. That really ticked him off.

They were making so much noise it was hard not to listen. Like moving furniture, with the davenport screeching across the linoleum. He didn't know exactly what his mother was saying, but it wasn't right. Usually she'd be making silly jokes and laughing too loud until they moved to her bedroom. Something else that sounded like Billy Murphy's German Shepherd playing tug-of-war.

Casey had gotten into dutch by peeking, before.

"How rude," his mom said in a slurred voice, "spying on me and my guest."

She tried swatting him that time, but was too drunk and barely touched his bottom as he ran back to bed, He was trying  hard to stay in bed, minding his own beeswax, this time. They were making so much racket his curiosity finally got the better of him. He slipped out of bed and down the ladder carefully, opening his bedroom door just a crack. It was hard for him to see what was going on but man, they were making a lot of noise. A man's voice muffled under the music in his ear. His mom sprawled on the sofa but it was weird. He could see tattered scraps of her shirt and dress dangling over the cushions, a skinny cowboy-looking guy leaning over her, his left arm across her shoulders pinning her down. The open palm of his right hand pressed against her mouth. Casey wondered how she could breathe.

He was kneeling, his left foot on the floor and his right knee up on the couch, with his Levis pulled down around his boots. He had skinny little white chicken legs and a shiny BB butt, rocking back and forth. Casey pulled the earplug out, letting it dangle down around his calves so he could listen.

"Oh yeah, little slut. You like that, don't you? Sloppy wet whore," he was saying, his head held high, not even looking at her. Like he wasn't talking to her. "Lucky bitch, I'm gonna leave some stew in there for you to clean up."

Mom's panicked eyes caught Casey's, tears spilling out. He knew  she'd be screaming. without that guy's hand. He, paralyzed in the open bedroom doorway, began shouting as loud as he could. He didn't even know what he was saying. It startled the cowboy, but he didn't stop. Just looked over his shoulder at the boy, without missing a beat. Finally, he shoved extra hard and stopped rocking, saying, "There you go, baby."

Casey stopped screaming when the cowboy stood and reached to pull up his pants. As calm as could be, he threaded his leather belt through the large silver buckle and cinched it tight, while mom and Casey were motionless, both crying softly. The only other sound in the room was the pinpoint of music, dangling by Casey's leg.

With a grin on his face, he strolled to the little boy in his Batman pajamas, leaning over to snatch the earplug and stuff it back in his ear. He squeezed Casey's shoulder so hard he wanted to collapse. Then turned, walking out the front door without looking back.

 It was still on, but Casey couldn't hear the radio anymore.