Junebug • TWD

25. Poison.

Shane almost killed Randall in the shed. He stuck his gun between Randall's teeth, threatening to pull the trigger. Andrea got him to stop, luckily, because if he hadn't, I would have seen him blow the poor man's brains out. I don't want to see that. I don't want to see anyone die. And I don't want Randall to die. 

At first, I thought my dad might be right. He told me about my mom and her boss, and I understand that. I understand why Momma had to kill that man. But I don't get why we have to kill Randall. I talked to Dale after talking to Dad. Dale doesn't think we gotta kill him either. I asked him to try and change my dad's mind, so that's what he's doing now. I'm hiding in the tent, pretending to be dressing up Nicki. But really, I'm just eavesdropping on them. 

Dad scoffs as Dale walks up. I hear the grass swishing beneath his shoes. "The whole point a' me comin' up here is to get away from you people," Dad mutters. I wish he'd just be nicer to everyone. 

Dale isn't offended, though. He's good like that. "Gonna take more than that," is all he says in response. 

"Carol send you?" Dad asks. Carol didn't send Dale. It was me. I'm hoping Dale doesn't blow my cover. I'm sure he won't because, well, he's good like that. 

"Carol's not the only one that's concerned about you, your new role in the group," Dale says. New role in the group? That's not what I asked Dale to talk about. Maybe he'll get around to the topic of Randall soon. Either way, what new role in the group? 

I hear Dad let out a sigh. "Oh man, I don't need my head shrunk," he says. I don't understand that saying, to be honest. I can't ask what it means, though, or else I'd call myself out for eavesdropping. I've already got Carl mad at me for snitching on him. I don't need no one else mad at me. "This group's broken. I'm better off focusin' on my kid."

"You act like you don't care about the group," Dale says. I bet his eyebrows are furrowed right now. 

"Yeah, it's 'cause I don't," Dad says. I know that ain't true, though. Dad cares more than he wants to. That's his problem. He doesn't want to care, but he can't help it. He wants to be tough and mean and self-centered and rude just like Grandpa Will and Uncle Merle. But he's too kind-hearted to be like them. I think that's who I get it from. My kindness is from my dad. He's just gotten really good at hiding it, over the years. 

"So live or die, you don't care what happens to Randall?" Dale asks. That's what I was waiting for. That's what I want to know. That's what I want to change. Because Dad's gonna say that he doesn't care, but he should care. 

And, of course, just as I expected, "Nope," Dad says. 

"Then, why not stand with me? Try to save the kid's life, if it really doesn't matter one way or the other," Dale reasons with him. He's got a point there. Either Dad cares and thinks that Randall should die, or he doesn't actually care and he can side with Dale. 

"Didn't peg you for a desperate son of a bitch," Dad mutters. I roll my eyes inside the tent. He doesn't gotta insult people all the time. It's really not that hard to keep your mean thoughts to yourself. 

Dale is unaffected by my dad's words, though. Because, again, he's good like that. I wanna be like Dale. He's got kindness, but he's also got toughness. "Your opinion makes a difference," Dale tells my dad.

"Man, ain't nobody lookin' at me for nothin'," Dad says. Now, he knows that ain't true. 

"Juniper is. Carol is. And I am. Right now," Dale tells him. I pick through the window of the tent and see Dad slinging his crossbow over his shoulder. He's not listening very good, I bet. "And you obviously- you have Rick's ear," Dale says.