TITLE: Carly's Hearse
My step dad's the kind of man who helps the armless beggar throw his-self under the bus. Seen Steven do it too when we was up in New York for three days after he married momma. The beggar went squish and everybody got to crying and screaming and crap. I looked at Momma. She shrugged and we got on the bus.
I was eleven.
When I was twelve Steven introduced me to mattress polo. Now he's got diabetes. He's always had the crap, least since he married momma, but his blood sugar's got real bad. He just had his arm amputated. The wrong limb if you ask me.
"Haven't you thrown yourself under the bus yet?" I says when Steven picks up the phone.
"I commit suicide you don't get nothing out of that insurance policy you got on me."
"Like I can afford me one of them. As long as you're dead, I'm happy."
"What the eff you want?" Steven says.
"If you called to ask her for money, she's gonna say no."
"'Cus if she don't she gets acquainted with your fist, blah, blah, blah. I need money for a hearse."
Steven mumbles like he had planned what to say but I done ruined it. Finally he barks, "What the hell you gonna do with that?"
"Drive you to your grave."
Steven laughs big. I imagine him wiping tears from his eyes.
"No," he says. "I don't got no cash."