I began to wonder about my mom’s comments. My parents didn’t have the best marriage, but I wasn’t sure I knew anybody who did. She could have gotten his paycheck first.” If she’d waited two more days, it would have been payday. Besides, I wouldn’t have been as stupid as Juanita Boyd. Sure as hell wouldn’t want to have to clean up the mess afterward. “Not unless I knew the cops would take me right to jail. “Is that what you got planned for me one of these nights, Karen? Shoot me while I’m sleeping?” my dad asked. “Said she was sick and tired of putting up with him.” “Shot him while he was sleeping, I heard,” my mother said. My mom always said those miners were as gossipy as any women’s group. When my dad got home off his shift, the first thing he wanted to talk about was Doral Boyd being killed by his wife. The house looked empty and was eerily quiet. On the way home, I stood for a while in front of Glen’s house. I used that as an excuse to leave school early.
By lunchtime, my stomach was so upset that I threw up the tuna sandwich my mother had packed for me. Was I the only one who knew? Glen and I weren’t in any classes together, so I normally didn’t see him during the day. Nobody at high school was talking about what happened. “Don’t know who you’re talking about,” he said. “Are Glen and his sister alright?” I asked. “You’d better get going, or you’re going to be late.” “Aren’t you supposed to be in school, son?” he asked. “Why don’t you all go home now, folks? We’ve got an ambulance that needs to get in here.” The cop looked directly at me. The officer that got out addressed all of us standing outside the Boyd house. “Meaner than a snake.” Just then another police car showed up. “Don’t know how she put up with him as long as she did,” one of the women said. I thought I heard something in the middle of the night, but these kids with their loud cars racing up and down the street are so damn loud, you’re always hearing some kind of noise.” “Shot him,” one of the male neighbors said. I hoped I might see Glen or his little sister. I continued to stand in front of the house. I didn’t think about it at the time, but now that I knew she had killed her husband, I wondered if he had caused the bruise. As I thought about her, I do remember one time when she reached into the cupboard to get a plate to put some cookies on before offering them to Glen and me, I saw a huge bruise on her arm. She didn’t go out much and was usually wearing a simple house dress the times I saw her. Glen’s mother was small, pale, a mousey-looking woman. I knew from my dad that he had a reputation for being a drinker. The times I was around him, he was usually quiet, sullen mostly. Glen’s dad, like my dad and so many in our Arizona town, worked in the copper mines. She killed him.” Juanita was Glen’s mother, I knew, and Doral his father.
One of the women in the group was crying loudly “Juanita killed Doral,” she kept saying over and over. Today, as I approached his house, I saw two police cars and a group of neighbors hanging around outside. Glen and I aren’t really friends, but we frequently walk to school together. I wasn’t thinking about the disturbance the next morning as I came up to Glen Boyd’s house. But something woke me up in the middle of the night, and while I tossed and turned trying to go back to sleep, I began hearing sirens. I don’t think I could have heard the shot our houses were too far apart.
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