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Show Go Love/121 14. O.W. arrives on the front edge of a squall, same bruised color and low-low pressure as the Class 5 monster that twisted into Lonoke County in 1985. I walk outside. The air smells like sulfur, like struck matches lighting. We stand on the mown grass-son, mother, father, daughter, sister. No tornado, but a shit load of wind-sloppy raindrops splatter the concrete drive Lara and Renee move close, we're all together when O.W he kills his engine, his blue eyes through the passenger window. He's driving a new truck, a white closed-bed Chevrolet. We see each other. What am I looking for? Hard rain polka-dots O W.'s golf shirt His flattop's trimmed tight. He walks to me straight-away, wraps both big arms around my chest and we hug. Just stand there like a real father and son and hug. We have history "Son," he says, pulls me tight against his chest. "I love you." Behind O.W.'s back, Dora's curtains flutter. "O W." Talcum powders his neck~I smell it, hear diesels idling all through my childhood, a drunk's tremor in our foundation. "That's a nice tmck." He lets go. We stand there looking each other in the face. "Mama picked the color," he says. |