Bobby Joe was a good man. He beat his wife and raped his daughter, but he was a “good man.” Always paid his rent on time and smiled at you when he picked up his paper from the dried, gray grass. His dirty overalls with little specks of blood you wouldn’t think twice about, Johnny wondered if he would be buried in them. Mama and the girls went to the funeral.
Johnny thought about Bobby Joe as he held his baby brother, Manti, in the yard. Manti’s blond hair looked like a halo, glowing. A little angel baby.
Juliette said to Johnny, “Instead of placing a bucket under the leak, you should tear down the house and rebuild it.”
The heat hit Johnny from behind as the sun rose over the house. He turned and stared up at the ragged nailed house and sighed.
“What if I just… let the sun catch it on fire?” Johnny whispered to Manti.
He prepared a spot for the two of them to watch the show. Johnny put down a blanket and Manti’s favorite little plastic Jesus toy.