Between, Georgia by Joshilyn Jackson Page A

little wad as if she were preparing to kiss a mortal enemy. Then she said,
    “Yeah. She came by on Monday. You never saw anything so fat.”
    “What’d she want?”
    “Not to see Fisher. She came by during school hours, and her bad luck, it was a teacher planning day, and there Fisher was.
    Lord, Lord. Lori-Anne wasn’t sure what to do with herself, and Fisher was trying to climb straight up her like she was a big, fat tree. Wanting to get in her arms, crying, ‘It’s Mama, it’s Mama,’
    and Lori-Anne was barely standing it. Gritting her teeth and giving me the pointy eye like I planned to have Fisher home. Like I magically knew she was going to drag herself over here to try and borrow money again. She wants to get that gastric bypass.”
    “What’d you tell her?”
    “What do you think? It’s like pouring money down a black hole. So she got sorrier and sorrier with me and said, ‘You are making me gain fifty more pounds, because if I do, the state will pay for my bypass. You want to make me gain fifty more pounds?’
    I had to laugh out loud. I said, ‘Girl, I couldn’t even make you brush your teeth when you were seven. If I could make you do anything at all, you got to know your butt would be in church this living second and you’d be praying to Jesus to take you back.’ ” Bernese went back to the hallway. “Lou? I said I need Fisher for dinner. Now,” she hollered.
    I took a deep breath. “It depends on when they release Mama and Genny, but maybe tomorrow after school, I can take Fisher down to Henry’s. She wants some book about the insides of frogs.”
    “Don’t encourage that mess,” said Bernese. “I got enough talk about blood and organs when I was nursing to last me. And Fisher is always after me about what’s inside a person and what a kidney does. A kidney doesn’t do anything pleasant to talk about, that’s certain.”
    I opened my mouth to respond but closed it again as Fisher came trailing in. She flopped into her chair at the kitchen table and stared balefully down at her supper.
    Bernese started running warm water, adding a little dish soap and dropping in the dirty Tupperware.
    I took a deep breath and stayed over by the table. I said, “Tomorrow I need to go out for a little, so if they release Mama, I may leave her here with you. You know those drugs can make a person woozy for a day or two, and I’m not sure she should be alone.”
    “Where on earth do you have to be that’s that important?”
    “I have to go see Ona Crabtree.”
    Bernese froze at the mention of Ona’s name and then turned slowly around. “I hope you’re going over there to kick her bony old butt.”
    Fisher seemed oblivious, deep in a staring contest with her pitiful supper, but I said, “You’re going to get Fisher expelled, teach-ing her that ugly talk.”
    “How can you even look at Ona after what they did to our Genny?” Bernese said.
    “I don’t have a choice. You made sure of that. I already tried to get her on the phone, and I’ll be trying again as soon as I check on Mama. Those boys of hers are wild, Bernese, and their Alabama cousins are over here all the time, and they are more than wild. They are criminals. When Thig drops the charges against you and lets you get clean away with shooting that dog, and you know he will, there’s no telling what they’re going to do.”
    “If they don’t like how Thig handles it, they can call the real police over in Loganville,” said Bernese.
    “Crabtrees don’t call the police. Half those boys are on parole.”
    Bernese glared at me and then began meticulously scrubbing at the edges of her measuring cups. “That dog getting out was Crabtree carelessness, if they didn’t do it on purpose. They hate me, and they wanted to hurt our family. The dog was a weapon, so I took their weapon away.” She glanced over her shoulder.
    “Fisher, eat your supper.”
    Fisher picked up her fork and gave the egg salad a halfhearted prod. As soon as