and when his mom dropped me off later that afternoon, my granddad didn’t even notice.
He was too busy being Joe Carpenter in Juli’s front yard.
I tried to do my homework at the breakfast bar, but my mom came home from work and started being all chatty,
and then Lynetta appeared and the two of them started fighting about whether Lynetta’s makeup made her look like a wounded raccoon.
Lynetta. I swear she’ll never learn. I packed up my stuff and escaped to my room, which, of course, was a total waste.
They’ve got a saw revving and wailing across the street,
and in between cuts I can hear the whack, whack, whack! Whack, whack, whack! of a hammer.
I look out the window and there’s Juli, spitting out nails and slamming them in place. No kidding.
She’s got nails lined up between her lips like steel cigarettes, and she’s swinging that hammer full-arc,
way above her head, driving nails into pickets like they’re going into butter.
For a split second there, I saw my head as the recipient of her hammer, cracking open like Humpty Dumpty.
I shuddered and dropped the curtain, ditched the homework, and headed for the TV. They handymanned all week.
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