Friday fiction: Hank Jr. turns on the charm

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Part five

Part six

Part seven

Part eight

Life is getting a little complicated, what with Hank Jr. being out of jail and all. I mean, he probably won’t stay out too long, but in the meantime I gotta deal with him just about every waking minute.

Well, not just my waking minutes, I guess. Last night he drove over here and played music in the yard. He don’t play a instrument, he just drove his truck up in the yard and opened the windows. Bout scared the life outta me and the baby, all that noise outta nowhere. He musta been pretty drunk. He sang out there for a good half hour before the cops came and got him… neighbors musta called. I didn’t, because even though I yelled at him several times to scat, I thought it was pretty sweet, what with the singing and all.

Tell you what, though. When it got to Hank’s mama through the grapevine, she was mad as a wet hen. Blamed me. I wasn’t surprised. I mean, if I am the ONLY one to blame for getting pregnant couple years back, then I guess I can be to blame for some drunken idiot driving up into my yard and singing all night long.

Today I got up early, like 8, 8:30 and got ready for work and when I get to Family Dollar, who do you think is sittin there in his old truck? Hank Jr., that’s who.

“Does your mama know you’re here, Hank Jr.?” I asked him.

He got all defensive and macho.”Now, listen here, uh, Jenny,” he says. “My mama, she uh, she don’t tell me what to do.”

I turned around and walked into the store. His mama don’t tell him what to do. I and everybody else in this town know that’s a lie. Me and Hank Jr. would probably be married if it wasn’t for him obeyin his mama, and I don’t have any more to say about that.

I got a good little amount of money saved up, for our trip, but I did a little research and found out that Mama’s soap opera is on some kinda filming break, and those episodes I been watching are from last year. Now, I gotta tell you, that worries me a little. I have a feeling that Mama ain’t one to stay put when ain’t nothing holding her down. Or when things, or people, are holding her down, for that matter. She just ain't one to stay put. I can only hope her amnesia's bad enough to keep her still for a little.