Chapter 16

As soon as Simbi returned to the motel, she knew something had happened.Oh, please Dear God, please don't let it be the children!But, thankfully, she found the kids outside, sitting numbly at one of the broken picnic tables.When they spotted her, Tyree and Aimee donned child-sized looks of relief.

"What's going on?" Simbi asked her son, the oldest and most articulate."Why aren't you both in bed?"

"It's-daddy," he told her, hanging his little head.

Of course, it would be daddy, probably drunk daddy now.Simbi's feelings quickly segued from anxiety to anger.Leave it to Buckley to screw up something so simple like taking care of his kids for one lousy evening.How hard could that be?Simbi never asked for much, and her requests always centered on the family unit, their family, hers and Bucky's, for better or worse.Sure, it had been the worse for some time now, but the better had finally come their way to the tune of $4,000.Had she been smart or thought about it more, Simbi should have banked the money as soon as Bucky brought it home.Now who knew what he had in that addled, simplistic mind of his. While he went on a whisky bender, the kids had been left out here alone, unattended and ripe for the social workers to come and take Tyree and Aimee away.They had tried it once when the Grovers lived in that old car, but Simbi had put up a good fight, enough to make the welfare people back down.

"Oh, my babies!" Simbi cried as she pressed both children together in a maternal hug."Come on.Let's get you both off to bed."

"But, daddy--" Aimee hesitated, her eyes wide and gleaming in a look of utter fear.

"It's okay, sweetie," her mother soothed."I'll take care of daddy while you two take a bath.Now come on."With Tyree in hand on one side and Aimee on the other, Simbi walked with purposeful steps to their room.The door to #12 had been left partially open and now she used the toe of her heel to push it open all the way.The lamps hadn't been turned on in the bed/sitting area, and the only light came from the plasma TV along the wall, the images on the screen flickering in blues and greens, the sound either turned down very low or off completely.

"Buckley!" Simbi called out, trying to keep the rage out of her voice.That she would save for later.When he didn't answer, she led the kids to the bathroom and told them to stay there for a moment.She would be right back to run the water in the bath unit.

As Simbi returned to the bedroom, she lowered her voice as anxiety crept in once more."Bucky?Are you here?"Could the jerk have gone off to a bar and left the kids all alone?

When she heard a faint stirring and a feeble groan coming from the lower bunk of the beds, she ran over.Oh, Bucky was here all right, probably dead drunk, the asshole!She didn't hesitate to turn on the floor lamp to its highest level, but what she saw made her stumble back and bring her fist to her mouth.It wasn't Bucky, her husband, now lying along the bed, but a wizened old man, his face a map of wrinkles, his eyes clouded a milky blue, and his hair a grizzled mat of gray-white.

"Who-who are you?" She managed after a beat."What are you doing in our room?"

"Sim-bi!"The man seemed to make the effort to pronounce her name in a hoarse, quavering voice."It's-me."He tried to stretch his arm out to her, his skin like crinkled parchment, his fingers bent and gnarled like deformed tree roots.

"Simbi," he tried again, "Huggie Doll."

He used her nickname, the cutesy but loving epithet only she and Bucky shared. No, no, it can't be!This horrible creature can't be my husband!Yet as recognition finally dawned, Simbi knew she had to face the brutal facts, calmly, rationally, if only for the sake of their children.First, don't panic, and second call the emergency number and get medical help right away!Yes, yes!Simbi knew what to do in a crisis, had taken a first-aid seminar, and a practical parenting course.But instead of falling back on her training, she let out a blood-curdling scream of terror.