She grabbed her deceased mother’s hairbrush, the soft brown hairs still poking out of the sides. She remembered the nights her mother used to brush her hair, the sound of the falling rain cooing her to sleep. Her hand tensed as the memories flooded her brain and a booming voice drowned the room.
“May, get in here and make me dinner. It’s nearly six o’clock.”
Her mind snapped back to the reality of her life. “I’m sorry dad. Do you want a sandwich?” She said while pacing into the small kitchen.
“I don’t care, just make it quick.”
“I can make Chili; mom always said that Chili was the perfect plate to scare the rain away.”
“She only said that because she didn’t want you to know we didn’t have money for other food.”
Bud Parker grabbed the remote lying on his lap and turned the volume on the television up. A huge series of thunderstorms are just covering the mid-west folks. It seems like the rain will be here for weeks. Nice Weather for July isn’t it?
“I guess I’ll just make sandwiches” May picked up the loaf of bread as a big silent tear ran down her face. “You want a bologna sandwich? You haven’t had one in a while. “
“The only reason I ate bologna sandwiches is because your mother thought I liked them.”
May was silent for a moment, and then exclaimed, “Will you stop blaming everything on her! It’s not her fault you got her pregnant at sixteen, and then her dad forced her to marry you! Then she worked hard all day so she could come home to this old double-wide trailer and her lazy, alcoholic husband!”
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that young lady! Who’s the one who buy’s you clothes and food? Me!”
“Who said I wanted you to do that for me! I want to be gone, like mom!”
“Then leave!”
“I will!” May grabbed her coat and ran out the metal door. Running down the steps, she collapsed on the dirt ground, the long help back tears began to fall, along with the sunny, July, rain.