T Is for Trespass

reached his teens, he outweighed her by 150 pounds and all the nagging in the world had no effect. He’d sit and look at her with those big cow eyes, but what she said and what she did had no power to move him. She could beat on him all day long, but it only made him laugh. Next to him, she was small and ineffectual. She’d given up her attempts to change or control him. The best she could hope for now was to confine his messes to the home front. Unfortunately, now that she was spending most of her time with the old man, Tiny felt free to live any way he pleased. She checked the bathroom they shared and was annoyed at the sight of his bloody handprints. Sometimes he liked to punch and cut, and he wasn’t always good at cleaning up after himself.
    She went into her room and spent a few minutes picking up the panty hose, underwear, and discarded clothing strewn on the floor. Some of the flashier garments she hadn’t had occasion to wear in years. Having tidied up, she gathered the articles she wanted to take with her to the old man’s house. She was beginning to like it there and she was determined to stay. She’d put the machinery in motion, as she had twice before in her search for permanence. She wanted to set down roots. She wanted to feel free, without having to look over her shoulder to see if the law was catching up with her. She was tired of living like a gypsy, always on the move. She had a fleeting fantasy of life without anyone getting in her way. Mr. Vronsky was tiresome, but he had his uses—for now, at any rate. Her current problem was rounding up Tiny, her Tonto, who usually didn’t go far by day. If he disappeared after supper, there was no point in wondering where he’d gone or what he was up to.
    She locked the apartment and returned to her car, prepared to circle the neighborhood in search of him. There was a service station with an auto-repair garage where he liked to hang out. Something about the smell of hot metal and grease appealed to him. Also the car wash next door. He liked watching the dirty vehicles go in the one end and come out the other end, clean and dripping with water. He could stand for an hour, looking at the swinging lengths of canvas that swished against the sides and over the tops of the cars. He loved the twisted worms of soap that shot out on the tires and the hot wax spray that made the finish shiny. For a while, she hoped he’d get a job there, wiping the beads of moisture from cars at the end of the run. That was something he could do. Tiny thought about life in concrete terms: what was happening right now, what was set in front of him, what he wanted to eat, what warranted a scolding, what netted him a swat. His view of the world was flat and uncomplicated. He was a man with no curiosity and no personal insight. He had no ambition and no urge to do anything except fritter away his time watching television at home, and then doing whatever he did when he went out. Better not to pursue that issue, she thought.
    Solana drove the streets slowly and kept a sharp eye out for the bulk of him. He’d be wearing his denim jacket. He’d have his black watch cap pulled down around his ears. No sign of him at the service station. No sign of him at the car wash. She finally spotted him coming out of the corner minimart. She’d passed the mom-and-pop market before, but he must have been inside, buying cigarettes and candy bars with the money she’d left for him. She slowed to a stop and honked. He lumbered over to the car and got in on the passenger’s side, slamming the door. He was smoking a cigarette and chewing gum. What a bumpkin he was.
    “Put that out. You know I don’t allow you to smoke in my car.”
    She watched him roll the window down and toss out his lighted cigarette. He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets, clearly tickled about something.
    Irritated, she went on. “What are you so happy about?”
    “Nofing.”
    “‘Nofing’s not a word. Say ‘noth-thing.’ What’s in your pocket?”
    He shook his head as though he didn’t know what she meant.
    “Did you steal something?”
    He said no, but his tone was grumpy. He was too simple to lie and she knew by the expression on his face that she’d caught him again. She pulled over to the curb. “Empty your pockets right now.”
    He made a show of disobeying, but she smacked him in the head and he complied, taking out two small bags of M&M’s and a packet of beef jerky.
    “What’s the matter with you?