Steal the Light (Thieves)
“Hell, I discovered, wasn’t fire and brimstone. Hell was a personal journey. I run in the door to our house in Corpus Christi. I am six years old and so excited. I just made a new friend. Her name is Holly, and her dad runs a marina. He has a boat and everything. I run into the house giddy with excitement, bursting to tell my mother about what happened at school. She is my everything and nothing is really real until Momma knows about it. I love my dad, too, but it is in a vague, ill-defined way. I love my father because I’m supposed to. He’s gone a lot, and I’m not allowed in his office where he spends the bulk of his time when he’s home. So I want to see Momma. I run in and stop because Daddy is home, and he’s yelling.“For chrissake, woman, what do ya mean? What the hell are ya trying to say?”I stop at the sound. My father rarely raises his voice. I listen closely, and Momma sounds so hard and cold.“My plane leaves at 6:00, so I’ll make this short and sweet. I’m leaving.
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