WHO: Adelaide and James Hawkins WHEN: March, 2013 WHERE: Montgomery, Tennessee WHAT: Rodeo says bye to his baby sister before heading to New York City RATING: Low STATUS: Complete
Rodeo headed up the path to his leaky old home, hands in his pockets, squinting against the sun. The late winter breeze had yet to give way to spring, but all he wore was a dark gray hoodie over a motor oil stained t-shirt. He pulled his hand from his pocket to wrench the rusted door to the trailer open, and if the growl of his Black Shadow hadn't alerted anyone inside that he was home, the screech of the screen door did. He let it clatter shut behind him as he stooped his head and entered the trailer-- he had grown so tall that he couldn't quite stand up completely straight inside.
He pulled the pack of cigarettes from his pocket as he stepped over the piles of shoes against the doorway-- for one reason or another, it seemed as if no one had ever thrown a single pair of shoes they had owned away, and the first foot or two of the trailer had scattered sets of shoes piled up from every era of their lives. Rodeo was so used to it that he hardly noticed, not looking down as he lit up his cigarette and took a drag. He was hoping Adelaide would be home, and he was even more hopeful that his mama wouldn't be. He had some packing to do, and the last thing he wanted was to hear her mouth before he headed out.
He found her in the kitchen, separated from the cramped living room by just a single step up, a wobbly iron rail, and a change from worn out carpet to worn out linoleum. She turned with a spatula in her hand, a neat half apron tied around her waist. They looked a little bit alike - something about the jaw, and the eyes - but her hair was fiery red and she dressed herself like a princess. The Princess of Dirt, she called herself, but never to Rodeo because she didn't think he would like it. "I made grilled cheese, and green fried tomatos," she informed him, plopping some onto a paper plate. "Didn't know if you'd be home but Mama ain't."
"Good," Rodeo said, pushing the hood of his sweatshirt off his head, leaving his blond hair messy underneath. He breathed out the smoke from his lungs before leaning in, pressing a stubble-scratchy kiss to his sister's cheek. He patted her on the back as he passed her, moving over to the old refrigerator, pulling open the door to take out a beer. "I gotta pack, and you know how she screams." Their mama had a tendency to grow especially furious at Rodeo whenever she saw him heading out with a duffel bag, and Rodeo liked to avoid letting her know before he left on a job for that reason. "What you want to drink, Shortcake?"
"Rootbeer, please," she murmured, turning back to plate the rest of the food and carry it to the table. The apron had frills and a bow tied in the back and her hair was a prettily curling ponytail. Her movements were precise, not wasteful, and she slid the food onto the table and perched on a chair like a prim feline. When she smiled at him, though, Rodeo knew where to look for the real story. She had the most expressive eyes, and at the moment they were sad, resigned. "Where you off to this time? You know Mama rages just as much when she finds you already gone as she does when she finds you leavin'," she pointed out, plucking up a triangle of grilled cheese neatly.
Rodeo brought their drinks over to the table, and he twisted the cap off of Adelaide's rootbeer before setting it in front of her. He dropped into the only other chair, the rickety wood creaking under his weight, though he hardly seemed to notice. He used the edge of the table to knock the cap off his beer, then took a few grateful chugs before he grabbed a bit of grilled cheese, his cigarette still burning between his fingers. "Yeah, I'm sure she does. But when I ain't here, I ain't gotta listen to it," Rodeo said, unashamed to admit his own selfishness in the situation. He couldn't stand to hear the things she said-- she would call him by his father's name, she would scream it. She would promise him he'd live the same life as his father, all lies and crime, until he died the same way too. Right before a run that big, it was the last thing he wanted to hear. "I gotta go to New York. Just for a couple days, darlin'. Be back before the weekend, even."
"I hope so," Adelaide said, visibly smoothing out the sadness and straightening her shoulders. She gave him a smile that had the dimple on her right cheek flashing. "Remember you promised to take me shopping in Huntsville," she reminded him playfully. She hated when he left, hated being left with Mama for any amount of time, but she didn't like to burden him with it either. She knew he was just trying to provide for them – it was just lucky for him that that entailed being free of Mama for days at a time.
"I'm gonna, Shortcake," Rodeo assured her, laughing faintly. He never minded when Adelaide asked for things-- in fact, giving her whatever she desired was his greatest joy in life. There wasn't a single thing he allowed her to want for; nothing material, anyway. Whatever clothes, shoes, and trinkets she could want, she would have. And after the job he was headed out on, Rodeo knew he could afford to really splurge on her. He ate one of the triangles of grilled cheese in a couple quick bites, then gulped some of his beer to wash it down before he spoke again. "How's school going?" he asked her, wanting to edge into the conversation he had been planning casually.
Adelaide wrinkled her nose, picking off a little bit of green fried tomato from her plate. "The usual," she said. She was very smart, but tended to avoid studying like the plague, so where she excelled naturally, she excelled, and elsewhere she just made it by. She didn't have enthusiasm for much of anything at school except for getting dressed for it. "Got a pre-cal quiz tomorrow, no idea what Mankins was talking about in there today. But that's nothing new," she laughed.
"Need a tutor?" Rodeo asked around a mouthful of food, lifting his eyes from his plate to look at her. At even the slightest suggestion that she was struggling, he panicked-- she needed to succeed. She needed to excel in her classes, she needed to go to a good college, she needed to do something normal and legal that would make her happy and keep her safe. "You havin' trouble in math? I could hire a tutor..."
Adelaide folded her slim white fingers together and smothered a smile at his anxiousness. His indulgence and devotion to her never failed to make the little troubles in her life fade in importance, and made the bigger troubles bearable. She was sure that she would have popped Mama one by now if she didn't know it would disappoint him so much. "I'll be okay," she said. "I'll look it over once you go tonight, figure it out." She picked off another little piece from her plate, shrugged. "I have a B anyway." In truth there was a girl in her class who printed up practically microscopic cheat sheets and sold them for a few dollars. She didn't anticipate having time to study tonight anyhow, as Mama would come back and the ranting would likely begin. "Don't worry, I'll still get into clown college or whatever," she teased him.
"Clown college?" he repeated, face screwing up in confusion. He swallowed a mouthful of fried tomato and frowned at her, trying to puzzle that one out. He never stopped to think it was a joke-- when it came to Adelaide, he took most things seriously. He was mystified by the complexities of attempting to raise her, and he took every single moment of it as life-or-death. If she joked or used any kind of hyperbole when it came to matters this important, the humor tended to fly right over his head. "They-- they got that? Is that what you're thinking? Like, being in a circus?" He didn't want to sound like he was judging, but he was.
She busted out laughing, ducking her head and pressing her fingers to her mouth. He really was just too precious when he got that crease between his brows and spluttered a little bit. "I'm joking, Jims. Jokes, yanno?" When she was small she couldn't manage to get out James and Jims was the result. She still preferred it over Rodeo, because everyone called him Rodeo and Adelaide wasn't everyone. "I don't know what I want to be, but I'm working on it." In truth she thought she might like to work in fashion, but she didn't know if she was really ready to tell him that.
Rodeo's shoulders relaxed when she reassured him that it was a joke, and he slumped back in his chair, lifting a hand to ruffle his fingers through his hair as he let out a relieved laugh. He wouldn't have wanted to crush her dreams, but it would have been difficult to accept the idea of his sister becoming a professional circus clown. "Alright, well... you still got some time, of course. But I wanted you to know... well, whatever it is you wanna do, you'll get there. I'll make sure. This job... it's a big one, Shortcake. Biggest ever. I'm gonna put most of it away, start up a saving for you goin' to school for whatever, when you're ready."
She didn't know it, but a mirror of the crease between his brows furrowed between her own, and she nudged his calf with her foot under the table. "How dangerous is it?" she asked. On the one hand it was difficult to be worried about someone like Rodeo, who always seemed so larger than life, who had always taken care of her and everything else. On the other hand, if anything happened to him it would single handedly wipe out every good thing in her sheltered life. Still it was never very hard to believe him, though, when he told her it would all be fine. She trusted him explicitly.
Rodeo shook his head, wanting to reassure her that there was no risk-- and really, there was very little. Their hook-up was trustworthy, the guns were scrubbed, and unless they attracted attention to themselves there, the city was far too big for them to be noticed or caught. Even if things didn't go according to plan, Rodeo wasn't worried-- he and his boys always managed to scrape by. "It's not, darlin'. We get up to bigger trouble home than we will out there. Promise you ain't got nothin' to worry about. All you gotta worry about is that pre-cal test and what you wanna get yourself when we go to Huntsville."
She leaned over to place a kiss on his rough cheek, feeling terribly fond of him. Adoring him always reassured her, because without him she couldn't have been sure she was quite capable of such things. "I'll be okay. Hey you better get packing, I don't know how long Mama'll be gone." Adelaide pointed out.
Rodeo gave a heavy sigh, nodding and picking up two half-sandwiches, biting into them both at once as he stood and made his way over to the small sofa he slept on. It was cramped, but he refused to take either of the beds-- not the one in the bedroom, which belonged to Mama, or the little mattress on the floor outside of it, which was Adelaide's. His things were piled in a couple boxes around the sofa, and he rifled through them, pulling out clothes and tucking them into the backpack he used whenever he traveled. "You gotta take care of mama when I'm gone, yeah? I mean, best you can. I know you always do, but... Sure she's real bad when I go."
"Yeah, sure I'll care for her," Adelaide said automatically, moving over to sit on the arm of the sofa and swing her feet. She moved in the room as if she was orbiting him, and she didn't even realize it. When they were together she always knew just where he was, tuned into his mood like a preset radio station. Dread built up in her chest at being left behind but she reminded herself that he would be back. As long as she knew he was coming back, she could stand it. She gave a little smile. "Promise."
Rodeo looked up to grin at her, hair falling across his eyes, starting to grow a little too long. She would need to cut it when he got back, but there wasn't time before he had to leave. They were setting out in an hour or two, wanting to be sure they made it to the city before the guns did. "I'll call every night, make sure everything's goin' alright. And you call me if you need to, yeah?" he said as he turned the dial on the gun safe beside the sofa, twisting out the combination and tugging the door open. He took out a Beretta 92 and checked the clip, tucking it down the back of his jeans when he was satisfied. He pulled a banded wad of cash from the safe and dropped it into his backpack, then slammed the door shut and zipped his backpack, dropping it onto the couch. He turned to Adelaide and held out his arms to her, never leaving without giving her a hug goodbye. "Don't tell mama where I am, yeah? Can't tell no one nothing, Addie."
Adelaide stepped into him and squeezed. "You don't have to worry about me, Jims, I'm a real good secret keeper," she smiled ironically. She'd grown up keeping secrets, treading lightly, appeasing and politicing her way through a precarious existence. Adelaide thought she could handle Charlotte Hawkins another time. Like she'd been summoned by the thought, the headlights of Charlotte Hawkins' ancient Volkswagen bus flashed in the front window, and she screeched to a lurching stop in the gravel drive outside. "Crap," Addie said, twisting away to peek out through the blinds. "Go on out the back and I'll hold her off," she said, giving him a nudge.
Rodeo didn't have to be told twice. He lifted his hands to Adelaide's cheeks, holding her face and leaning in to kiss her forehead before he brushed a hand over her hair and stepped away. "I'll call you when I hit the city," Rodeo promised her, taking up his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder, quickly heading towards the back door of the trailer, stepping over the junk scattered across the floor without glancing down. "Love you, Shortcake."
"Love you too, Jims," Adelaide waved him off, watching him disappear through the back door with a longing that only grew more acute with the sounds of stumbling in the front walk, and a caustic, mind-splitting shriek of, "ADDIE BELLE WHERE THE FUCK YOU AT?!" She sighed, and now that Rodeo was out of sight she cursed acidly and forcefully chucked the remains of their dinner in the trash, straightening her shoulders and preparing herself to face her own personal hell.