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on the light.
    â€˜Goddamn, you are something, baby.’ He moves hishat from his front to his head and walks naked toward the bathroom.
    I stare at my feet, lost under the lime green shag rug. The bathroom door slams.
    â€˜He won’t be no bother,’ she shouts over her shoulder.
    The sound of pissing and then a flushed toilet answer her.
    She walks toward the bathroom and goes in, shutting the door behind her.
    â€˜I coulda gone home with any cowboy there, and I picked you. Now you wantin’ to drive me back. I’ll tell everyone a four-year-old scares you from the best pussy you’ll ever have a chance to be takin’!’
    I stare at the poster on the bathroom door of a girl on her knees, her mouth on a man’s thing, no cowboy hat in front of it.
    They’re arguing. There are other posters on the walls, all the girls have yellow hair like Sarah, and they’re all naked.
    She comes out still wearing the sheet; he follows wrapped in a towel. They say nothing. He goes into the little kitchen, where I hear him open the refrigerator. She grabs some pillows and a blanket off the bed and goes into the bathroom.
    I watch him, through a small window cut in through the kitchen wall, unwrap some chicken.
    â€˜You hungry?’ he calls out, opening the microwave. My mouth’s suddenly wet.
    â€˜Naw. The chili dog you got me is still settin’ in me.’
    â€˜OK.’ He shuts the microwave door and punches buttons that beep.
    I say nothing.
    I learned about being greedy. I wouldn’t eat the sandwich she had made, Spam on day-old white bread. We pulled over on the side of the road to eat. I kept my lips compressed as she pushed the sandwich against my mouth.
    When it was dinnertime she got a drive-through burger and fries.
    â€˜You got your sandwich now, don’tcha.’ I watched her eat, and I didn’t touch the sandwich sitting on plastic wrap on my lap. When she was asleep I opened the chocolate-chip cookies hidden under her jacket in the backseat. I ate them all.
    She woke up and saw the crumbs and the empty package at my feet. She opened the car door and held her finger down my throat until the cookies came back.
    â€˜Those were mine, greedy pig. Steal from me again, pig, and see what happens.’
    â€˜Johnny, come in here!’ she yells from the bathroom.
    She’s not talking to me, so I don’t move.
    â€˜Get in here!’
    The smell of fried chicken fills the room. She comes out of the bathroom.
    â€˜Hey.’ She motions me over. ‘You deaf ? . . . Come in here.’ I follow her into the bathroom. She closes the door.
    â€˜You’re Johnny, remember? I’m Monique. Got it?’ I nod. There are more posters on the wall. One girl has brown hair.
    â€˜You’ll sleep in here.’ She points in the tub. A few pillows cover the bottom, and a blanket’s on top.
    â€˜Get on in . . .’ I climb into the tub, its sides low enough for me to get over easily. I stand on the pillows, staring up at her.
    The sheet is still wrapped around her like a dress. I know she has all the same stuff the girls on the posters do. I’ve seen her changing in the car.
    â€˜Take off your shoes. You gotta go?’ I shake my head and sit on the pillows and pull off my sneakers. I do have to piss but can’t with all the girls on the wall watching, staring out with vague smiles in poses like snakes.
    â€˜Johnny, OK, remember, Monique. Johnny.’ She points at herself, then at me.
    She flicks the light off.
    â€˜Good night.’
    She closes the door. I look around. I feel my eyes to make sure they’re open. A thin line around the door glows yellow, and I hear hushed laughing and talking. Soon the light around the door disappears and their voices melt into grunts and moans.
    I pull the blanket up around me to block out the sound. I know what he’s doing to her, I knew allalong what he would do and I said nothing. I