Page 51 of Demon Copperhead
Maggot brought up the subject of Emmy’s boyfriend, several times.
I think it was overtime revenge, to show me he’d been wise to our Knoxville shenanigans.
This hurtful side to him made no sense, the old Maggot wouldn’t have hurt a fly.
Except obviously to pull its wings off, which is just kid crap.
Emmy refused to take the bait, saying she and Hammer were not dating, just friends.
I kept thinking, Hammer? Flop-haired Hammerhead Kelly, the super-polite cousin-not-cousin that seemed too tenderhearted for this world, even while he was gutting a deer carcass with a Bowie knife?
But Emmy just kept steering us back to the boyfriend situation downstairs.
I said I didn’t get it. Aunt June was no fool, plus had already turned down half the guys in the county.
This Kent person must have had something on offer.
Sex, was Maggot’s theory. Giant pork sword.
Emmy said no, it was all the free stuff.
This guy was Santa Claus Junior in a Ford Explorer, coming around to throw presents on all the receptions and nurses.
Candy for the fat ones, coupons for Hair Affair if they were on diets.
It was like Kent had spy elves telling him what they’d all want.
The doctors got actual free vacations to Hawaii and such. Golf trips.
“Mother H. Fuck,” said Maggot. “Get me Hawaii.”
“You have to be a doctor or nurse practitioner. It’s your prize for prescribing his pills.”
“Okay, whenever Aunt June gets her Hawaii, make her take us. I don’t care if we have to hear barking-man boning her all night, I’ll still go.” Maggot was putting Emmy’s hair clips in his whiskery hair so it stuck out like tentacles. And navy-blue lipstick. He turned to show his work.
“Me too,” I said. Not really expecting to get invited, but Jesus. The ocean.
Emmy said Aunt June couldn’t earn rewards from him due to Kent being her boyfriend. She was just getting off on how popular he was. “Mom says if anybody on God’s green earth needs a Hawaii vacation, it’s a doctor in Lee County.”
We reminded her about Knoxville. Gut-stabbed pregnant lady, baby inside.
Emmy shook her head like the little did we know.
“She doesn’t regret moving back. But she says medicalwise, Lee County is the doorway to hell, with too many patients and Medicaid forms to ever get through it.
The nurses and doctors she used to know have all moved to the city to make a buck. ”
The weather was brutal that day, otherwise we might have gone outside to do our dissing of our elders.
Or not, because Maggot was having too much fun with Emmy’s things.
He had on her sparkly Madonna vest, no shirt, and these giant swishy pants he’d pulled on over his jeans because he was that freaking skinny.
After a while we heard somebody calling for us.
“Shhh,” Emmy said. Maggot stopped, dropped, and rolled while she went to the door.
It was Aunt June hollering up the stairs.
The Peggots were wanting to get home. The rain pounding the roof now sounded like evil tree gnomes throwing rocks.
This is a dome type house, so if I say “roof” we’re discussing the whole banana.
Maybe sleet out there, soon to get dark, with Mr. Peg’s eyes so bad he meandered like the slowest drunk driver on the planet.
Mrs. Peggot got her old eagle eyes back after the cataract surgery, but she didn’t drive.
We stalled long enough for Maggot to undisgrace himself, and then went and sat on the stairs, because nobody was going anywhere till Kent finished his damn talk show on the medical establishment not taking pain seriously.
“We know better than that now. Pain is the fifth vital sign. We invented the pain score so the patient can give an objective assessment.”
“I know what you’re worried about, Daddy,” Aunt June said. “But there’s absolutely no chance of you getting dependent on this medication. The company did all kinds of studies. I can show you the package insert.”
She was in the kitchen which was part of the living room, the whole downstairs being one big room.
I watched her down there, shiny Posh Spice hair, tight black shirt tucked into the waist of her jeans, and wondered how pervy was it that I still thought she was hot.
That I thought she and her niece-slash-daughter were hot.
She’d baked a chicken for our dinner, and a birthday cake.
My birthday was the reason of us coming over that day.
Fine, I was in love with the lady. Now she was packing up all the leftovers for them to take home.
Mrs. Peggot would say no, now y’all keep some of it for yourselves, but June would win. This family was a story I knew.
Mr. and Mrs. Peggot had sunk together into the couch while Kent wore them down.
A Burt Reynolds type, mustache, too dressed up for a Saturday, shoes like nobody from around here.
Looking down on him, I could see a pink shine on top of his head with the dark hair pulled across it.
Not a full Homer Simpson like Creaky’s, just a little beginner’s hamburger helper up there.
But do you trust a guy that cheats on his own head? Aunt June was bottom-feeding.
Emmy was on the step beside me. My knee touched hers but she didn’t notice. She was eyeing Kent like she wanted the right superpower to vaporize him.
“We ask the patients to look at the chart and put a number to their pain,” June explained, scooping potato salad into an empty yellow butter tub. “Kent’s company came up with that.”
“We believe your pain is a fact,” said Kent. “Not just an opinion. That’s all I’m saying.” Definitely not all he was saying. I looked at Emmy and made an oh-brother face.
“Our mission is to get every suffering patient to zero on that chart,” said Kent.
Emmy made a finger-pistol and shot herself in the head.
Mr. Peg ended up accepting a free coupon for Kent’s miracle pain pills, probably to shut him up. Stronger than anything ever made. Not the usual stuff you have to take every four hours, this one lasts around the clock! For the first time in years, you’ll get a good night’s sleep!
Outside in the truck, he barely got the engine turned over before Mrs. Peggot said, “Give that paper here, old man. If you try bringing them pills to the house, I’m flushing them down the commode.”