Two Name

4

My new daddy doesn't lie.

I lied to him one time. He made me cut a willow down from behind his house, where a creek runs across his property. My hands shook as I sawed it off the bunch of willows with the little pocket knife he gifted me. Tears streamed down my face and made my sight so blurry the knife kept slipping.

His wife tried telling him to take it easy on me. He didn't respond, just looked at her until she said they'll discuss it later. Daddy doesn't talk much, unless it is to teach. He's the smartest person I know.

I stood there as he tested the whip of the willow, trying desperately not to cry while Sawyer and Logan laughed at me from their bedroom window. Daddy told me it couldn't be too stiff, so not an old branch. And it couldn't be too bendy, so not a young branch. Something about it breaking or being too soft. It whistled when he cracked it through the air.

Daddy calmly explained how many times he was going to swing the willow on my butt, and why. Ten times, because that's how old I am. He's whooping my ass because I lied, and lying has consequences. I fought him on it, but he's too big and strong.

Then, he hugged me tight and apologized. He said this should have never happened. If he had raised me right from a baby I would have known how bad lying was, but it was a lesson he had to teach and I had to learn. Hopefully, I never have to learn it again.

I apologized, too. Then, I told him everything. I told him how the food is better here, how no one yells and hits me, and that I think it's all the joints they smoke and beer they drink that make them do stupid stuff.

I told him mama calls him white trash and privileged. She laughs at his receding hair line and crooked teeth. That I look ugly 'cause I look like him. They call me Dumbo the Giant.

His reaction made me cry harder. If I told mama he was saying horrible things about her, she'd scream and throw stuff. Daddy just stood there and defended me.

"I love you, Desmond Junior. You aren't dumb, you just weren't taught. You pick up things fast and you're already a handsome boy. I love you, so much."

I don't know how long we stood there, daddy holding me as I cried. Even though he just told me not to lie, I couldn't bear to tell him that he's the only one who ever says those words to me.

His wife is nice, but she looks at me and sees the mistake her husband made in a rough patch of theirs. His sons are protective of their mama, and loyal to him, which means they tolerate me, but only when he's around. Jo Dee is hardly around me, but that's my fault.

Growing up the way I am, everyone is overly sexual. I didn't even know that some of the phrases I was saying were sexual innuendos. Daddy had the talk about the birds and the bees, and said that besides God, it's the greatest mystery on earth and to give it it's proper respect.

My daddy doesn't lie. But, my mama does. It's another thing I won't tell my daddy. I'm not sure what it means but it makes me flinch every time someone says grape. She screams even louder and cries and smashes stuff when she talks about what he did to her.

All I know is this: she says she loves me but he shows he loves me. I can guarantee, showing is better than saying.

"See you, Mo!" Leo hollers as he skirts out the front door.

"Yeah! Bye, Mo!" Sammy shouts over his shoulder, running after Leo. It is eight o'clock at night and they're both going to play at the park. Personally, I think a seven year old and a five year old should be staying at home.

All our dads and uncles, and older brothers and cousins, are joining the gang lately. They party at the park, chasing teenage girls and beating all the crackheads. There have been two murders lately, two distant cousins hung, stabbed and shot. When daddy picks me up, he often has to change his taillights and tires.

"Floyd, Dean! Let's go!" My old daddy shouts, his voice commanding. Mama starts wailing at the handgun tucked in the back of his pants. Cassie and Ella tug at Floyd and Dean to stay back, tears streaming down their faces at the thick rope casually hanging over Floyd's shoulder. A knock on the door stops them. "Mo, get that."

Old daddy tucks his shirt over the gun and crosses his arms over his chest, trying to appear casual as he leans against the wall. Floyd and Dean scramble back up the stairs. A couple of times, cops have shown up at our house. Daddy may drive the dump truck, but that's his day job. Lately, he's been too busy selling drugs to make it to work.

"Hey," I say, a smile worming its way onto my face. My new daddy stands on the step, stoically as ever. I can see the distaste in his eyes until he looks at me, and warmth and love fill them.

"Let's go." He tilts his head to his truck parked in the driveway.

"Don't bring him back this time." Old daddy says. I squeeze my eyes closed as my lips wobble. While he has been distant since it came to light that I'm not his child, he is one of the nicest ones. Although, all he does is ignore me.

"I have the court papers in my truck," new daddy says. "You both can sign them right now."

"You go get 'em." Old daddy sneers. Mama ducks out of his reach. It makes me realize that maybe she hits me because he hits her. Old daddy walks to the door as my new daddy walks back to his truck.

"Daddy!" I scream. Old daddy pulls his handgun out and points it at new daddy's back. Three deafening blasts ring in my ears before I run to my new daddy, tears streaming down my face. His body is crumpled on the dull green overgrown grass, blood seeping from two different bullet holes.

"Two name, I go by
My mama, she lie
My eyes stay dry,
Even though I cry.

Anyone ask me,
Mama can't see
The fact that she
Chose to have me.

The Clydesdale man,
He my new daddy.
He showed me what
A real man can be.

Old daddy shot him.
It was really grim.
Catch me if you can,
I'ma be a good man."