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The wood panels flap like meat falling from the bone. Momma shivers in the corner, rocking back and forth, reciting bible verses. Sis’ and I play cards in the black vacuum, straining to hear one another over the choir outside. Momma made us all wear a rosary before we got in here, cursing us all to hell if we don’t surrender to nature. I worry about the damn horses. I worry about the sheep in their matted coats: what if they get strung up in the field? How can a lamb live without its mother? Sis’ rummages through the cold box for peanut butter bars. I hope she doesn’t pick the old ones from last time. Momma takes to gnawing her beads between her teeth. ‘Sis finds a maggot in the wrapper, white and fatty like the moon. Before I can breathe, she bites down on it. Where’s momma’s God now? Sis’ is turning into a beast, eating insects and old butter bars, and momma’s looking to give herself away. I tried my damndest to bring the dog down here with me, but that god-fearer in the corner hauled me by the scruff of my collar. Sparky is out there somewhere, if he ain’t hitching a ride with the wind. Momma crawls over on all fours and takes a juice carton from the cold box. Her slurping scurries into my ears and makes a home. The little orange drops slide down her neck, into the same bra she’s worn for the last twenty-years. Momma’s been shaking so goddamn much her nipples are like boulders. I want to tell her this is why her husband walked out on her. Sis’ grabs the pliers from the toolbox and starts ripping her nails out of their beds. Ain’t no God stopping her now, nor momma, and nor I. We’re nothing but kings in straw castles fighting for paper crowns.
