“No, we’s not. We’s chosen to be uneducated, unpolished, poor white trash. I don’t care how country you are or how poor you are. You can use home spun English and still sound like you have sense. You can be poor as dirt and be clean and not smell like a sweaty beer soaked dishrag, with a hint of pot and then try to cover it up with gas station cologne.” She held her nose up sniffing the air like a chef sniffing the aroma of the main course. “And most of all you can be poor and have some manners.”

Oat puffed out his chest, “one, you don’t jaw to my Pussy like dat. Two, ain’t you just all high and mighy.”

Esther smiled a great big smile, “you ain’t seen jawin’ yet.”

If Oscar could have dried up and blown away, he would have.

“We gonna let ya eat.” They all filed out of the house. Pussy in the lead with Oat bringing up the rear. He stopped at the door, “you go fur it bro. Like I says, you needs a good fuckin’.” He winked as he walked away. “The way I sees it, you two; two peas in a pod.” He called out from the sidewalk.

Esther closed the door behind them.

Oscar had slid down the door frame to a squatting position in the floor. He felt like he was about to throw up.

“I am so sorry.” She heard Oscar whisper from the floor. “God, forgive me. I am so sorry.”

She got down in the floor with him. “You can control your brother as much as I can control the weather. And we both know I can’t do that.”

“I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. Please forgive me.”

She lowered her voice to the softest whisper she could, “Oscar.”

His heart stopped. Was this voice from his dream. His stomach cramped. He jolted past her out of the room.

Oh well, she thought. Before she left, she cleaned up the kitchen the best she could. As she was putting her coat on, Oscar walked into the room. “You don’t have to go.”

She smiled, “thank you for a wonderful evening.”

“You’re too kind.” He forced a smiled, “the evening of insults.”

“I will return your socks after I wash them.”

“Where are you going?”

She was a little shocked and her first reaction to any situation reared its head; anger. “I beg your pardon.”

“We didn’t clean the house or unload the truck.” He sounded almost panicked.

“Hotel,” she headed toward the door.

“Please,” she stopped and turned around slightly annoyed. “I have a guest room. Stay here. It’s the least I can do.”

All kinds of sick axe murdering thoughts rolled through her mind. “You’re very kind. You don’t really know me nor do I know you.”

“True. But we are both mature adults. I can never apologize for what just happened.” He put his hand over his heart. “Plus, we don’t have a hotel in this town. The closest one is half an hour away.”

Esther laughed, “none?” She thought about that for a moment, she was way much too weary to drive another half an hour.

Oscar gave a half smile, “not even a B&B.”

“AirBnB, VRBO?”

He thought for a moment. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Okay,” he helped her out of her coat. “But I’m goin’ to warn you,” She raised herself on her tip toes. Her eyes sparkled and dance with playfulness. “I can protect myself, Mr. Patterson. You’re bigger than a mouse.”

Little Man

Little man spun around and started screaming. “Pussy! Pussy! Come hur. You gotta see dis! Pussy!” The sound of his voice caused Esther to shutter. A movement that Oscar noticed. Before long this scrawny looking woman came into the living room holding a baby with three smaller children trailing behind her. They looked like stair steps, her being the tallest.

“Bro, whur your manners? I’m Otis, Oscar’s my big brother. Ery-body call me Oat. This hur angel is my wife Pussy and our brude; Austin,” he pointed at the baby. Next in line was, “Larry, Teddy, and Tim.”

Esther clasped her hands together as she stepped into the living room. “I’m city trash.” She spoke with a southern accent so fake it dripped with honey. And continued, “and I half expected your youngins to be named Larry, Daryl and Daryl.”

“Oh, she be funny bro.”

Oscar was about to die. He never looked up from the floor.

“Well I see ya got well mighty fast. Earlier you couldn’t get out the bed.”

‘Son of a bitch’, Oscar didn’t like to curse even in his thoughts. He could feel a panic attack coming on. He started to sweat and shiver at the same time. He didn’t want Esther to see him like this. She would think he was pathetic. Heck he felt and thought he was pathetic.

Oat just started laughing. “We goin’ down to Hardee’s fur dinner.”

The two oldest boys started chanting as they shuck their fists in the air with joy, “Hardee’s, Hardee’s, Hardee’s.”

“Checks come in?” Oscar said it before he could stop himself. That wasn’t very nice. But his brother brought out the worst in him.

“Ya could pitch in and give some green for ma’s dinner. Hardee’s ain’t cheap.” Oat sputtered. “I got 5 mouths to feed.”

Oscar just glared at Oat.

Esther suggested, “how about we send her a bowl of soup and some corn bread?”

Oscar liked that idea much better than shelling out money but he couldn’t move. All he could really do was glare at Oat. Knowing his mother, she would eat the soup all the while bemoaning that no one cared enough about her to buy her a cheeseburger. It was a lose lose for him.

“Should’ah known country not good ‘nough fur you.” Pussy rolled her lips.

Esther laughed, “oh honey, you don’t have a clue what you’re talkin’ about?”

Pussy stopped in the door, “we’s country.”