Chapter 13: Goin’ Fishin’

In the morning, Dolores knocked on Ron’s bedroom door.

“Ron, I made your breakfast.”

“Thank you; I’ll be out.”

His voice was neutral, even cold, and she shivered. When he finished in the bathroom and came to the table, she noticed he didn’t even look at her.

“I made your favorite, chocolate chip pancakes.”

Silently, he tore off a small strip of pancake and stuffed it in his mouth, then washed it down with his little glass of orange juice.

“Thank you,” he said, without enthusiasm, then stood and took his dishes to the kitchen counter.

“I’ll be outside, in case Mae still wants to take me fishing.”

Again, without looking at her, he shrugged on his heavy coat and shut the outside door behind him.

Ten minutes later, he heard the familiar sound of Mae’s pickup truck coming down the driveway, causing a small smile. It faded away when he realized she was driving alone.

“Thank you, Mae. I didn’t want to be inside with her.”

“Oh, Ron. Don’t say that.”

Mae grieved hearing him. Her own family was far from ideal, and many families in her tribal community struggled with health issues and poverty. Maybe this wasn’t the time and not her place, but she hoped there was some way she might help Ron, who was already missing one parent.

Dee looked through her kitchen window at Mae’s truck, hoping somehow Brandon might have come along. But he wasn’t there, so she sat at the table and put her face in her hands.

Mae checked Ron’s seat belt and headed back out toward the end of the driveway.

Brandon was standing at the gate, and Ron started excitedly disconnecting himself and tugging at the door latch before the truck even stopped.

“Brandon!”

He buried his face in Brandon’s chest, unashamedly weeping.

“Shh. Ron, it’s OK. I’m here now.”

“I thought you were gone for good. Why does my mom hate you?”

“I don’t know, Ron. I don’t think she hates me. I hope not.”

Mae put her hand on Ron’s shoulder.

“Ron, when you go to school and you see little kids crying and having angry fits, do they always have a good reason?”

“No.”

“You know the words, ‘temper tantrum.’ Your mom had a temper tantrum, I think. Her feelings overwhelmed her, and she couldn’t handle them.”

“Mothers shouldn’t have temper tantrums. I’ve never seen her so angry. She said nothing to me this morning. No explanation, no apology. She doesn’t love Brandon or me. If she doesn’t want me, where can I live? I don’t have a father.”

All of Ron’s relief after seeing Mae and then Brandon turned to smoke. His body sagged into the fender of Mae’s truck, and his shoulders were shaking. Both adults were holding his hands, trying to comfort him.

“Ron. You won’t be homeless. If necessary, you can stay tonight at my place along with Brandon if your mother doesn’t get over whatever is making her act this way. You are SAFE. I want you to give each of us a strong hug. Let’s go to the lake, and we can talk some more while we fish. Deal?”