Chapter Text
The TV blared. What had started out as cartoons days ago had mutated over the hours into over-loud infomercials and shocking news stories.
Amalene wasn’t watching TV. She sat on the carpet holding an old stuffed bear, making him ride around on a rolled up piece of junk mail like it was a horse.
The living room of the apartment was almost completely empty, except for the TV, a pile of chip bags on the floor in a corner, scattered trash, and a plastic dog kennel. When Amalene’s mom, June, left, she’d made sure that Amy had plenty of food.
There were four bags of Cool Ranch Doritos to start, and two left. It wasn’t because she wasn’t hungry. Amy didn’t have the grip strength to open them. She didn’t have a shirt. Her shorts were streaked with orange chip dust and stains of unknown origin, the kind that come from grimy kid fingers and a general lack of cleanliness in the environment.
June had been gone for hours. It’s impossible for Amalene to know how many, since June had been gone since before she got up. Amy didn’t even know if her mom came back last night. Amy’s half-brother, Mason, was staying with his dad.
The chips made the little girl thirsty, but she couldn’t reach the cups or sink. She got so thirsty earlier that she cupped water from the toilet bowl in her hands and drank it. It wasn’t the first time. It had happened so frequently that it felt as normal as drinking water from the tap. She kind of liked it.
The porcelain kept the water cold. It tasted different than water from the sink but the toilet water wasn’t bad and there was a lot of it. Amalene could reach the flush if she needed more water. It never ran out.
Amy knew it she shouldn’t tell anybody about it. That people might think it was weird. But she didn’t mind. She didn’t consider being bullied about it by kids—she never saw any. She wasn’t in kindergarten, only saw Mason every other week, and didn’t really leave the apartment much.
Mostly, her mom was gone. Amalene was always waiting. She was waiting right now.
Amy had so many exciting things to tell her mom when she got home from work—that Mrs. Charleston upstairs might be hiding a dog in her apartment. That the spider that lived in the corner of the shower was gone. That she can save money on her car insurance because a talking lizard said so. June would love to hear about everything.
Amalene played out scenes in her mind so that she wouldn’t be so lonely. She imagined her mom coming home and listening to Amy’s exciting stories while putting away bags of groceries. In her imagination, June was kind and warm and treated Amalene how she treated Mason. It felt good while she was thinking about it, but afterward, when June came home, it would make Amy sad.
Almost as if Amalene’s thoughts had summoned her, the knob of the apartment door unlocking filtered through the living room. Amy clapped her hands and ran to the door to greet June, but pulled up short when she saw that her mother wasn’t alone. She backed away, shoestring muscles bunching to run into the bathroom to hide. Amy wasn’t supposed to see her mom’s friends.
June caught Amalene’s eye and shook her head. She may have seemed like she was being sweet, but Amalene knew what the strained look on June’s face meant. It meant she better act right.
“There she is! That sweet little girl you told me all about!” The man was very tall, and crouched down to be more on Amy’s level and folded his sunglasses onto the neckline of his t-shirt. Making his posture smaller didn’t really make him less intimidating. “You must be Amalene!”
His words were drawn out and he looked a little different from most of the men June brought home. The man had a bushy brown mustache and was very thin, like a string bean. He was wearing an old orange ball cap and faded blue jeans. His cowboy boots had scuffs on the toes.
“Come on, Amalene, give Ronnie a hug hello!” June made significant eye contact. Amy was frozen on the spot.
Ronald Mellinger broke out in a wide smile. He opened his arms.
“It’s okay, darlin’, I won’t bite.” His voice was like molasses. Amalene had never heard anyone talk like that before. She didn’t really want to hug him, and when he shuffled forward and hugged her anyway, Amy’s entire body bowed away from him, so much so that if he let go, she would have fallen down. But he didn’t let go.
It was a long hug, and when he was finished he finger-walked up her naked belly and booped her on the nose.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it, Princess? I didn’t bite.” Ronnie mimicked biting the air. Amy could hear the clack of his teeth coming together. He still hadn’t let her go. His breath ghosted on her face. It smelled sweet and a little minty. Ronnie’s giant hand rubbed up and down the girl’s back. It was rough and warm.
“Don’t be rude, Amalene.” June scowled. “You know better. Say ‘Hello, Mr. Ronnie.’ You weren’t raised in a barn.”
Amy couldn’t. The words stuck in her throat. Mr. Ronnie’s hand was feather-light on her skin, barely touching her. It gave her goosebumps. She didn’t know enough to be self-conscious about her nipples firming due to the indirect stimulation. Ronnie’s smile was wide. His mustache looked soft up close.
June made a put upon noise and sneered at Amy behind Ronald’s back. She pulled him up and dragged him toward her bedroom.
“Nice to meet you, princess!” He tipped his hat at Amalene before the door slammed shut.
Amy knew what fucking sounded like and June was being especially vocal. Amalene sat back down in front of the TV. Ronnie and June didn’t come out for a long time.