We rode in his rickety pickup truck in the dead of night in complete silence until he broke it.
"I was bad, MaryBaby," he said.
"What?"
"As a kid, I wasn't right," he said. My father randomly twitched. Like someone overdosing on drugs if you've seen that.
He flew out of his lane. I grabbed the handle for stability. The oncoming semi approached and honked at us. I braced for impact. He whipped the car back over. His cold coffee cup fell and spilled in my seat. My head banged against the window.
