I tried even when you became like this, even when everything you did was ugly. I tried to still love you. I tried to forgive you. I tried to let you become whatever you needed to become, even if that meant you lived at home all your life.
Like you have.
Let me finish.
You don’t get to finish if everything you say is crazy. I only have to listen if what you say is reasonable. I don’t have to listen if it’s crazy talk.
I hate you. I hate you so much.
Fine, he said. He dropped his two figs and climbed down out of the tree. That’s great. You’re a great mother. You’ve really improved on things from your past, just like you wanted to.
Galen’s mother was crying without sound, in great hiccups of breath. She could hardly speak. I shouldn’t hate my own child, she said. I know that. But I hate you.
Well you won’t have to see me anymore. I’m moving out to the room above the shed.
Galen’s mother began to smile. It was the strangest thing. She was still crying, but she began to smile. She sucked in breath, and what she did was laugh. Instead of crying, she was laughing at him.
What? he asked.
You don’t understand, she said. You have no idea.
Well stupid me, then. You’ve been so clear.
She was smiling. You think you can just move out to the shed, and that’s going to be it.
Yeah. I’m moving to the shed. You’re not going to see me, but you’re going to give me money for school and food and other things, too. You’re going to stop fucking up my life.
The shed is not where you’re going, she said.
I’m moving my stuff right now. He began walking toward the house.
You’re going to prison.
Galen stopped. He had this feeling of heat rising all through him. Did you just say prison?
Yes. Prison.
How am I going to prison?
Statutory rape.
That’s ridiculous.
Your cousin is seventeen. You’re twenty-two. Even if she weren’t your cousin, it would be statutory rape. And since she’s your cousin, it may be incest, also. We’ll have to see.
This is too stupid. I’m not even talking about this. This is what I mean by crazyland. He kept walking toward the house, and it seemed farther than before. It felt like the lawn fell away to either side of him. He was left to walk on a kind of narrow bridge of lawn to the pantry door, and then he was inside the house and safe. He walked quickly through the kitchen to the stairs and up to his room, where he took the duffel that was still packed and hefted it over his shoulder.
His mother was on the stairs. I’m going to be the witness, she said. And I brought the top blanket, the blanket that has both of you on it. I brought that as evidence.
You collected evidence?
That’s right. So even if you and she both deny it, I have evidence. And you haven’t had a shower, so you’re evidence, also. And she hasn’t had a shower.
You’re insane.
I just want you to know that I’ve loved you all your life, but I have to stop you now. I have to do the right thing. And I have to let you know, also, that I can’t visit you in prison. I can’t go there. I can’t have that become a part of my life.
You’ve thought about this.
Yes.
You’ve thought about it all the way up to me being in prison and you not visiting.
Yes. I almost drove us all to the police station, after we dropped off Grandma. But I decided I wanted to explain to you. I want you to understand. That’s my gift to you.
The house felt to Galen like a cavern. No lights on, shades drawn. Great hollows in the ceiling above. Prison. His life, not someone else’s life. His life in prison. And for doing nothing wrong.
Please, he said. I don’t understand this. I don’t know how this happened. He had to be careful how he talked to her. She really was crazy. I can’t go to prison, he said. You’re my mother.
Yes. I’m your mother. And that’s why I have to do this. It’s my responsibility.
Please. Please think about this. You’re talking about prison.
Yes.
You’re talking about sending your own son to prison.
Yes.
She had a strange attentiveness, something he couldn’t place at first, and then he realized what it was. She was excited. You’re excited, he said.
Yes. I guess I am. It’s been so long. I’ve been afraid of you for so long. But now I won’t have to see you ever again. I get my life back.
You can’t just throw people away.
You threw yourself away.
Please. I’m your son.
She turned away then, walked down the stairs and toward the kitchen.
Where are you going?
She didn’t answer, but there was a phone in the kitchen. He dropped his duffel and went after her fast. The light in the kitchen was on, and she was already reaching for the phone.
No! he yelled.
Her hand jerked back as she saw him coming after her. She screamed and ran out the pantry door.
He followed her onto the lawn, but she was already across it, running for the shed.
What the fuck are you doing, Mom? he yelled. I’m your son. I’m not some kind of monster.
She disappeared around the corner, and he just stood there on the lawn. Prison. He couldn’t believe any of this. None of it could possibly be real. But it felt real. It felt more real than anything else ever had before. The world did not seem like an illusion. His mother was going to call the police. That had an enormous and terrifying reality.
Galen’s life closing in around him. The shed, the old house, the trees above, the walnut orchard, all of it edging in closer. The end of a future. To have no future at all.
I’m not garbage, he yelled. I’m not something you can just throw away.
The air so hot and thick. He walked through it past the corner of the shed, into the orchard and around to the sliding bay door. It was closed. He stood there before it in the hot sun and begged. Please, he said. Please. I’ll go away. You won’t have to see me. But I can’t go to prison. I don’t even know what prison is.
He got down on his knees in the dirt, in the broken furrows. Please, he begged. Please.
He could feel the heat radiating from the old wood and from the ground. His body slick. He crawled closer and reached up for the handle. I’m just coming in to talk, he said. I just want to talk. But she’d somehow locked the door. It wouldn’t slide.
He stood up and pulled harder, but it wouldn’t budge. The old rusted handle, the old padlock hanging. It didn’t have a lock inside. But she must have jammed a piece of wood or something.
Please, he said. Let me in. We need to talk.
I’ll give you a head start. If you leave now, I’ll give you one hour before I call.
No. I don’t want one hour. You can’t do this, Mom. He slumped against the door, old gray wood, rough and weathered and hot against his cheek.
The unfairness was too much. Rape. It couldn’t be called rape. I’m not a rapist, he said.
She didn’t answer. Just waited there in the shed, the place of her childhood. Her childhood that was so special and couldn’t be touched by anyone else. The whole thing a lie.
I’m not a rapist.
You are a rapist, and an abuser. And you will never abuse me again.
What the fuck? He slapped the wood with his open palm.
See?
You’re crazy.
See?
You stop fucking saying that.
See?
Galen was so frustrated he yelled and kicked at the door.
You’re an animal, she yelled at him. You’re an animal, and you deserve to live in a cage.
Galen stepped back and turned to kick at the door with the heel of his shoe. He kicked it hard. But it was tougher than it looked. I’ll show you some fucking abuse, he said. If you’re going to use that word, then you should learn what it means.
You’re just giving me more to say in court. I’ll tell them you tried to kill me.