Vista looked out the truck window as they drove by the old Quisenberry place with a sigh. “There’s a big movin’ van in the front yard.”
Maw patted her on the thigh. “Better’n than the old cars up on cinder block that used ta be there.”
“Depends on how ya look at it, I guess.” Vista said as it passed out of her vision.
“Irna Quisenberry used ta knock the windows out a them ol' wrecks and grow flowers. They was always the prettiest petunias.”
“I remember that.” Brod smiled behind the wheel. “The flowers always matched what was left a the paint jobs.”
“Ol’ Irna always had a eye fer high art.” Maw smiled. “God rest her soul.”
“Whatever happened to her boys, Mama?” Vista asked, hoping the conversation would take her mind off the fact that her ex was unloading furniture less than a mile from the house.
“Well, let’see” Maw thought a minute. “Rusty’s lives over in Sprucey Pine I hear’d…”
“He still married to Gunilla Fetter?” Vista inquired as the old truck came to a stop in the gravel drive.
“Law, honey, Gunilla died about ten year ago.” Maw eased her self out across the truck seat and stepped out. “Cow kicked her in the head.”
“Ouch.” Brod raced around to the passenger’s side and helped his Grandmother get down.
“Hear tell she lived a while, but had one eye a pointin’ east and one a pointin’ west. Course she weren’t much ta look at to begin with.” Maw brushed off her house dress and wondered toward the porch. “Other boy tuck up with a Amish girl and moved to Florida.”
“Mama?” Brod interrupted. “I’m gonna run out back and check on m’trap. See if we finally caught whatevers rippin’ up the cucumbers.”
“Take yer time, Brod.” Vista smiled. “We’ll start some supper soon, though.” She watched her boy double check the doors on the truck and meander off toward the old barn.
“If ya ketch the varmint, Brod, knock it silly and hang it’s carcass on a stick in the garden.” Maw yelled after him.
“Will do, Maw Maw.” He yelled back before he disappeared completely.
“That’ll teach those critters to mess with m’cucumbers.” Maw mumbled as she took a seat on the front porch rocker. “Lan’sakes, this day done wore me out.”
“Feels like one of them days God spits out and ever body walks around hoping someone else’ll clean up.” Vista agreed as she sat on the porch swing. “Just a nasty mess…a nasty mess.”
“Aw, Vista Kay,” Her mother moaned, “Tain’t pretty but ever one’ll be jes fine.”
“Poor Ronnie.” Vista couldn’t help but say. “I cain’t believe they think he delibertly runned that girl over with the hay bailer.”
Maw nodded her head. “Ronnie’s sure got a temper, but that’s just mean.”
“You don’t think he did it.” Vista couldn’t help but ask. “Do you?”
“Well, I can see it bein’ a accident.” Her mother rocked and looked up at the waning late summer sun. “But that police man with the fine tushy made it sound like someone gunned the tractor and kept a backing the thing over that poor girl until she was a alfalfa meatloaf.”
“Ronnie’s high strung.” Vista Kay swung a little. “But, I cain’t believe he did that.”
“Me, neither.”
“Law mercy! Law mercy!” Brod came running from the barn and headed straight for the truck.
Vista and Maw stopped in mid swing and snapped to attention. “What is it, Brod?”
Brod slammed the truck door open and grabbed the shotgun from the rack. “I caught it. Law mercy, I caught it!”
“The critter eatin’ m’cucumbers?” Maw said.
Brod dropped the gun shells he’d pulled from the glove compartment in the gravel. “Yes’m.” He excitedly squatted to pick them up and shove some in his pockets.
“Calm down, honey.” Vista Kay stepped off the porch toward her boy. “What is it that’s gotcha so excited?”
“Mama, I don’t know what it is.” Brod popped two casings in the shotgun chambers and snapped it shut. “I ain’t never seed nothin’ like it. It’s big an’ its mean and it’s uglier than Marcella Tater without ten pounds a makeup!”
“Probably just a ol’ raccoon.” Maw said.
Brod looked up at her. “Not unless someone shaved it, covered it in plastic and pissed it off. Come look at this thang.”
The ladies had trouble following him, as he was determined to take down whatever monster was in the trap. Brod was so excited he didn’t even care he was tromping down the cabbage as they made their way to the end of the garden nearest the barn.
“Look at that thang.” He pointed as they arrived at the trap.
Sure enough, there was something none of them had ever seen inside the metal trap, throwing himself against it making the heavy contraption move a few inches away from the cucumber vines with every toss. It was larger than a rabbit, with a long pointy nose and tail, and not happy at all.
“Law!” Maw whipped her hand to her collar button and squeezed it shut. “What is that thang? A alien?”
“None like I ever seed.” Brod said.
“Don’t be foolish, ya’ll.” Vista scolded them. “It’s some kinda animal.” She took a step toward the box trap.
The creature locked eyes with Vista and stopped throwing itself against the cage. A strange growl came deep within it’s throat. Vista took a step closer and squatted down.
“Why…” Vista thought a minute. “I think it’s one a them things.”
“One a them things what?” The old lady asked her.
“A armadiller. You know one of them things that eats bugs.” Vista looked over her shoulder.
“That thang ain’t eatin’, bugs.” Maw pointed her finger at it. “It’s a eatin’ m’cucumbers! Kill it!”
“Armadiller?” Brod dropped the shotgun from firing stance. “This ain’t Texas. Makes more sense it’d be a alien.”
“No.” Vista looked a little closer as the animal began to calm down a little. “Don’t know how in the world it got here, but I’m sure that’s a armadiller, and it’s scared.”
“It’d better be scared. It’s been a eatin’ m’cucumbers.” Maw snorted. “Kill it!”
“Mebbe we should call somebody.” Brod said. “Mebbe it escaped from a zoo or sumpthin.”
“Nearest zoo’s in Knoxville, Brod.” Maw said. “Unless you see some luggage or a bus ticket near by, shoot it. Shoot it now!”
“It’s kinda sweet.” Vista said reaching out a hand to it.
“Don’t touch it, Mama!” Brod warned. “Just in case it is a alien. Its death ray eyes might melt yer fingers off!”
“Aw, it ain’t gonna…” Vista’s sentence was interrupted by the animal spitting and slicing a claw at the cage.
Vista jumped back. “Kill the damn thang!”
Brod aimed his gun as the animal jumped and rattled the metal cage box.
“Wait!” Maw cried out.
“What?” Brod asked.
“Better not use yer shotgun, Brod honey.” Maw decided. “With all that’s been a goin’ on in this family, if the neighbor’s hear a gunshot they’ll all come a running with Anderson Cooper not fer behind.”
“I hate ta say it, but she’s right”. Vista agreed. “Wouldn't mind Andy Cooper droppin in fer a look see, but all them others'd just be annoyin'. Run to the kitchen cupboard and get my nine millimeter.”
“Good idea.” Brod handed his grandmother the shotgun and bolted toward the house.
“And get that big cardboard box from the pantry, too.” Maw Maw called back.
“What for?” Vista asked after seeing her son nod and dash the rest of the way out of sight.
“We kin put that over the cage ta muffle the shot.” Maw Maw said.
Vista smiled. “I keep forgetting you was alive during the ol’ moonshine wars.”
“Ya learn a trick or two.” Maw took a step toward the cage. “Law that thang is ugly. A armadeiller, you say?”
“I’m pretty sure.” Vista said. “We’ll look it up on the computer after we shoot it.”
“Wonder if the meat’s any good?” Maw asked.
“Mama…” Vista scolded. “You wanna spike it in the garden or ya wanna cook it?”
She thought a moment. “Well if we find out it’s one a them endangered species we’ll freeze it.”
Brod came puffing with the nine-millimeter in one hand and a big cardboard box in the other. “It ain’t melted nothin’ yet has it?”
“Naw.” Vista said.
Maw took the box. “Ya’ll stand back. I’m gonna slip this over the one end of the trap and one a yous trip the latch.”
Maw put the box on one end and Vista took Brod’s shotgun barrel and tripped the spring. They heard the door fly open and the armadillo raced from the cage into the box. Maw sat up the box, so it hopefully couldn’t get out. She and Vista jumped back to Brod, already aiming, as the box started shakin’.
“Good Lord!” Maw huffed. “It’s like Tasmanian Devil thing on them cartoons.”
“Well, shoot it afore it gets back in the garden.” Vista ordered.
The boy aimed and fired. The box went still. The trio leaned on their tippy toes and tried to look in the box. Suddenly the box started shaking and jumping. Blood spattering a little from the top.
“Boy…” Maw said. “You shoot like a girl.” With that she whipped a pistol from her shoulder bag, aimed and fired three quick shots into the side of the box. They heard a plop, and the box stilled.
She smiled. “Got it.”
They took a step toward the box and then all hell broke loose. That armadillo began to rip the box apart with it’s claws from the inside, blood and cardboard spraying everywhere.
The trio aimed their guns and fired everything they had. Finally, after everyone reloaded at least once, the armadillo huffed and fell over. Just in case, Vista reloaded the shotgun and every one else kept aim.
The armadillo, now laying on shredded cardboard and looking like Swiss cheese twitched one more time and then went limp.
Maw took a deep breath and put her pistol back in her purse. “Well…that was fun.” She reached for the other two weapons. “I’ll take these back to the kitchen an’ clean ‘em afore supper. Green beans ‘n’ cornbread sound good?”
“Sounds good ta me.” Brod said not taking his eyes off the body.
His grandmother nodded, opened the chamber to the shotgun and laid it over her shoulder as she trotted back toward the house, nine-millimeter dangling from her free hand.
“Mama, you be careful slicin’ the fatback. Don’t cut yerself.” Vista called to her. She turned to her son. “Want some help to spike it up in the garden?”
“Naw.” Brod said. “I’m gonna make sure it don’t have ninth life and then I’ll shove a couple a sticks in it.”
“Okay, call if ya need help.” She said. “Gimme the cartridges an’ I’ll put ‘em back in the truck.”
Brod handed her a few from his pocket, not taking his eyes off the dead armadillo. Vista walked back to the truck and slipped them back in the box on the truck seat. She’d just put the box back in the glove compartment when she saw a car turn in the lane and makes its way toward her.
She shook her head and she shut the truck door. “Hope someone ain’t called the law.” She took a quick step to the front porch, shielding her eyes in the sun to see if she could tell who the car belonged to.
It was a nice car, one she didn’t recognize. It came to a stop just on the other side of the truck. The driver’s door opened and a man got out and shut the door.
Vista leaned on the post by the porch steps. “Mac.”
The man heard her say his name and stopped in the dirt just before it turned to grass. “Vista Kay.”
“I heard you was comin’ back ta town.”
“I’m here earlier than I planned, but my brother passed away.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Yes, I heard.” Vista put her hands behind her back and leaned heavily on the post. “How is poor Flourene holdin’ up?”
“You know, that woman.” He shook his head and drew in the dirt with his foot. “I changed my plans and came early. Figured maybe her and the kids could use my help.”
Vista smiled. “’Course they could. It’s not like you got a wife and son a your own you ain’t never seed.”
Mac balled his fists up. “Now Vista Kay…”
“His name is Broderick, Mac. I named him after yer Daddy and Ray fer mine. You wouldn’t know that cause ya packed yer backs and tuck off before they slapped his butt and he could cry out “Where’s my Daddy”.”
“Now I told you…” Mac shook off the red in his face. “I ain’t gonna say I’m sorry, Vista Kay. I know that’s what you wanna hear, but I ain’t gonna say it.”
“Don’t expect ya too, Mac.” Vista quietly said. “Didn’t expect ya ta even drop by.”
“I supported you and the boy.” He said. “You can’t say I didn’t.”
She smiled. “Oh yes. Yes ya did, Mac.” She stood up and walked to the other side of the porch post. “That check came right on the dot ever month, with a little raise ever year, too. That was exactly the kinda support he needed.”
She could tell Mac was squinting at her. Vista put an arm around the post. “That was the kinda support yer son needed when he broke his arm in the fifth grade. It was the kinda support when his Granddaddy died a few years ago, the only man he had in his life.”
Mac looked back down at the ground. Vista sighed.
“He’s a good boy, Mac. Be a senior this year. He’ll be a fine man, like I thought you was.”
He snapped his head back up. “I am a good man.”
"I used ta think so, but ya taught me so much differn't." Vista wasn’t angry she was just being honest. "I used to pine fer ya, Mac. I used ta dream about the day you’d come pulling back in that driveway in a shiny new car. Didn’t know how I’d feel, but I dreamed of the day. Now here it is.”
“How do you feel?” He dared ask.
Vista smiled and leaned her head on the post. “I don’t feel nothin’”. She looked at the man who used to be her husband standing in the dirt. “What’cha here for Mac?”
“Well…” Mac looked up into Vista’s face and tried to smile. “I thought…I thought maybe we could be friends.”
“Bein’ neighbors an’ all?”
He smiled and let out a deep breath. “Yes.”
“I’ll think about it.” Vista put her hands in her pockets and took a step toward the top step. “When I make up my mind. I’ll send you a letter…at the first a’ the month.”
“Mama?”
Vista and Mac both turned to see the boy standing at the end of the car by the truck.
Brod looked up at his mother. “Mama? Who’s this?”
Vista looked at the steps, then to her ex-husband and then to her son. “Broderick, honey, this is MacDonald Gene Moretz. He’s yer daddy.”
“My daddy?” Brod stared at his mother with a strange look, one that Vista had never seen and then to the man standing in the dirt.
“Yes, son.” Mac cleared his throat. “I’m your father.”
Mac put out his hand. Brod wiped the armadillo blood on his shirt and looked at him. He took a tentative step and stopped; first looking up at his mother and then back to the man who had his hand stretched towards him for a manly shake.
“Well, aren’t you going to say hello?” Mac asked.
Brod smiled. “Of course. Hello.” He took two steps toward Mac Moretz and hit him with a quick right hook. Mac Moretz fell to the ground in pain and surprise.
Brod stepped until he was towering over the man. “Ever come near my mama again, an’ I’ll kill you.”
Brod stuck his hands in his pockets and quietly walked up the porch steps to his mother. He kissed her on the cheek. “I’m gonna wash up fer supper.”
Vista patted her son on the shoulder. “Tell Mama, I’ll be right there.” He watched Brod disappear behind the screen door slam. She turned to look at her ex-husband still shocked on the ground.
“I’d invite in fer some supper, but you can see how that might be a li’l awkward.”
She turned around and walked into the house, the screen door echoing in the ears of the man on the ground wiping a trickle of blood from his split lip.
