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“Mayes. Kenny Mayes, or Clio Mayes. Do you remember them?”

“Let me think.” He placed the cigarette between his thick lips and drew deeply. “There’s a lot of Mayeses around here. Now, there’s an old woman by the name of Mayes lives down the street, takes care of her uncle. He’s the one I bought this place from. But I don’t remember no Kenny. Is he a young man or a old man?”

“He died about eighteen years ago. He was … my daddy. I was hoping to find some of my family, maybe, to tell me more about him and my mother.”

“How about that,” the man said. He mashed out his cigarette. “I’ll tell you what. I believe that Mayes woman had a boy, got killed down here on the railroad tracks.”

“That’s him,” I said, suddenly hot and dizzy. “Where did you say she lives?”

“It’s a little old house down here at the stop sign. You can walk right to it. Watch out, though. Some of these boys around here might holler at you.” He laughed at himself so hard that he had a coughing fit. I left him there red-faced, hacking into his fist.

I stepped back out into the autumn sun, the sky overhead a hard, dark blue, and scanned the parking lot. I stopped when I saw Hollis leaning against the hood of his truck picking his teeth. When he saw me he pitched the toothpick into the gravel.

“Looking for ye ride?” he asked with a snide grin.

I glanced back at the door. I could have gone into the pool hall again but thought I might be more easily cornered in there. I couldn’t count on the owner to help, either. I had learned since marrying John and leaving home that men liked to stick together.

“I sent him on,” Hollis said, smile disappearing. He uncrossed his arms and began moving toward me. “My brother told me to keep an eye on you and it’s a good thing I did. I know he don’t want his wife sniffing around no pool hall.”

“I was looking for somebody,” I said, eyes darting left and right. “My family.”

“Why, your family’s right here. Ain’t I your family now?”

“I’ve got some errands,” I said, taking a step to the side. There was a wooded lot behind the building. If I could make it there, he’d never catch me. “Nothing I can’t walk to. You better get on back to the store. John says it gets busy around this time.”

“I’ll get on back to the store,” he said. “But you’re coming with me. I’d say John would like to know what you’ve been up to this morning.” He moved forward again.

I took another step sideways. “I’ll see John when he gets home.”

“You’re coming with me, girl,” Hollis said.

He lunged and before he could close the distance between us I bolted to the left, meaning to buttonhook around the corner of the pool hall and run for the woods. But Hollis was too close. He caught me and wrestled me to the ground. I struggled, kicking and bucking with him on my back. I slung my head and felt it connect with his teeth. He cursed but didn’t loosen his grip. He hoisted me to my feet, one arm clamped around my ribs. I looked desperately toward the pool hall door and saw the fat owner watching, eyes narrowed against the light. I squirmed around in Hollis’s arms, turning until our noses were inches apart. I hawked and spat into his eyes, wetting both of our faces. Then he drove his fist into my diaphragm, knocking the wind out of me. My eyes flew open and my body went limp. I knew then how it felt to drown. I opened my mouth wide, fighting for breath as Hollis dragged me to the truck and pushed me in. I lay against the seat sucking in whoops of air. “If you try to run off again,” Hollis panted, “I swear to God I’ll break your neck.” I couldn’t have run if I wanted to. I sagged against the door, still trying to breathe, as he came around the truck and climbed behind the wheel. He sat still for a few minutes, pulling himself together. He rubbed a finger across his teeth and pulled it out bloody. I rested my heavy head on the window as he started the truck and fishtailed across the parking lot into the street. After a while I tried my voice. “It’s none of your business,” I wheezed. He spat blood into his hand and wiped it on his pants. “My brother is my business,” he said. I didn’t say anything else because he was right. I thought of opening the truck door and jumping out. I didn’t know what my husband would do to me.

When we got to the store, John was leaning on the counter talking to a man whose bottom lip was fat with snuff. “What say, Grady?” Hollis said to the man, who touched the brim of his hat in greeting. Then Hollis looked at John. “Hey, brother,” he said. John glanced up and whatever he had meant to reply died on his tongue when he saw the shape I was in. “Let’s step in the back for a minute,” Hollis said. John hesitated and then called for Lonnie, who appeared from among the aisles to take John’s place behind the counter. I walked between them through the store to the back where there was a stagnant bathroom and one high window lighting shafts of dust like swarming bugs, cobwebs waving in dirty trails from the ceiling tiles. Hollis steered me around the empty boxes on the floor and backed me against a paint-splattered table under the window, knocking off another box spilling styrofoam peanuts. I looked at John but he made no move to stop him. “Why don’t you take a guess where I found your wife this morning?” Hollis said.

John stared at me. “Where have you been, Myra?”

“I found her down yonder at the pool hall. I hope nobody else seen her.”

John folded his arms. “I told you not to go down there,” he said with false patience. I recognized the calm look on his face. “I told you it would embarrass me.”

“I know,” I rasped, stomach still aching from Hollis’s blow.

“Is that all you’re going to say about it?”

“I can’t live the way I have been, John.”

He cocked his head, feigning interest. “How’s that?”

“Cooped up in the house.”

“You married me, Myra, not somebody else,” he said in his condescending way. “You know I expect a woman to keep her ass at home. I done told you that. And I ain’t the only one that believes that way. There’s a lot of men around here that would laugh at me if they seen my wife at the pool hall. Is that what you want?”

“No,” I said. “I didn’t mean to be hanging around. I was just in and out.” Even as I spoke the words, I knew I was wasting what little breath I had.

“Now, Myra. You’re not understanding what I’m trying to say.” John and Hollis exchanged a glance that made me cold all over. Then John began undoing his belt. I watched his long fingers working, light glinting off the buckle.

“Hold her still, there,” he said to Hollis. I couldn’t bear the thought of Hollis’s hands on me again. I lurched forward, a guttural sound wrenching out of my throat. John intercepted me before I reached the door. He turned me around and clapped his hand over my mouth. I tried to bite but his fingers were too tight. “Dammit, Myra,” he said against my ear, “there’s customers out yonder.” I screamed around his hand. They carried me together back to the table. “You better shut her up or somebody’s going to call the law,” Hollis panted. As soon as John’s hand was gone I screamed again but it came out more like a croak. “Hold her still,” John ordered. I heard his belt slithering free of its loops over their grunting and puffing. Hollis yanked my arms up so far behind my back I thought they would tear loose. My hoarse cries changed from anger to pain, bright flares shooting up behind my eyes. John forced me over the table and Hollis shoved my dress up over my hips. I began to cry hard, snot dangling from my nose. Knowing that Hollis was watching hurt more than the belt licks. When it was over, I fell silent and still, trying to stifle my sobs. Then Lonnie opened the door and poked his head in. “What in the world’s going on back here?” he said. “I thought Grady was fixing to call the sheriff.”