Where I'm Calling From

jar of pickles that had been on the table since lunch. He picked up the jar and pitched it through the kitchen window.
    Rae jumped away from her chair. “God! He’s crazy!”
    She went to stand next to her mother. She took in little breaths through her mouth.
    “Call the police,” Maxine said. “He’s violent. Get out of the kitchen before he hurts you. Call the police,”
    Maxine said.
    They started backing out of the kitchen.
    “I’m going,” L.D. said. “All right, I’m going right now,” he said. “It suits me to a tee. You’re nuts here, anyway. This is a nuthouse. There’s another life out there. Believe me, this is no picnic, this nuthouse.”
    He could feel air from the hole in the window on his face.
    “That’s where I’m going,” he said. “Out there,” he said and pointed.
    “Good,” Maxine said.
    “All right, I’m going,” L.D. said.
    He slammed down his hand on the table. He kicked back his chair. He stood up.
    “You won’t ever see me again,” L.D. said.
    “You’ve given me plenty to remember you by,” Maxine said.
    “Okay,” L.D. said.
    “Go on, get out,” Maxine said. “I’m paying the rent here, and I’m saying go. Now.”
    “I’m going,” he said. “Don’t push me,” he said. “I’m going.”
    “Just go,” Maxine said.
    “I’m leaving this nuthouse,” L.D. said.
    He made his way into the bedroom and took one of her suitcases from the closet. It was an old white Naugahyde suitcase with a broken clasp. She’d used to pack it full of sweater sets and carry it with her to college. He had gone to college too. He threw the suitcase onto the bed and began putting in his underwear, his trousers, his shirts, his sweaters, his old leather belt with the brass buckle, his socks, and everything else he had. From, the nightstand he took magazines for reading material. He took the ashtray. He put everything he could into the suitcase, everything it could hold. He fastened the one good side, secured the strap, and then he remembered his bathroom things. He found the vinyl shaving bag up on the closet shelf behind her hats. Into it went his razor and his shaving cream, his talcum powder and his stick deodorant and his toothbrush. He took the toothpaste, too. And then he got the dental floss.
    He could hear them in the living room talking in their low voices.
    He washed his face. He put the soap and towel into the shaving bag. Then he put in the soap dish and the glass from over the sink and the fingernail clippers and her eyelash curlers.
    He couldn’t get the shaving bag closed, but that was okay. He put on his coat and picked up the suitcase.
    He went into the living room.
    When she saw him, Maxine put her arm around Rae’s shoulders.
    “This is it,” L.D. said. “This is good-bye,” he said. “I don’t know what else to say except I guess I’ll never see you again. You too,” L.D. said to Rae. “You and your crackpot ideas.”
    “Go,” Maxine said. She took Rae’s hand. “Haven’t you done enough damage in this house already? Go on, L.D. Get out of here and leave us in peace.”
    “Just remember,” Rae said. “It’s in your head.”
    “I’m going, that’s all I can say,” L.D. said. “Anyplace. Away from this nuthouse,” he said. “That’s the main thing.”
    He took a last look around the living room and then he moved the suitcase from one hand to the other and put the shaving bag under his arm. “I’ll be in touch, Rae. Maxine, you’re better off out of this nuthouse yourself.”
    “You made it into a nuthouse,” Maxine said. “If it’s a nuthouse, then that’s what you made it.”
    He put the suitcase down and the shaving bag on top of the suitcase. He drew himself up and faced them. They moved back. “Watch it, Mom,” Rae said. “I’m not afraid of him,” Maxine said.
    L.D. put the shaving bag under his arm and picked up the suitcase. He said, “I just want to say one more thing.” But then he could not think what it could possibly be.

Little Things

    Early that day the weather turned and the snow was melting into dirty water. Streaks of it ran down from the little shoulder-high window that faced the backyard. Cars slushed by on the street outside, where it was getting dark. But it was getting dark on the inside too.
    He was in the bedroom pushing clothes into a suitcase when she came to the door.
    I’m glad you’re leaving! I’m glad you’re leaving! she said. Do you hear?
    He kept on putting his things into