Saccades Project

We were in the car, driving home, and Knox stopped at a light. He was just drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, and then he looked in the rearview for a second, checking on Melody, and then his mouth fell open.
What . . . what is this? he said, pulling over the car before the light change. He cut the ignition, and then he turned to Melody, and he said it again, taking hold of her jacket: What is this? he asked, looking at me.
It’s a pin, I said.
I see that.
Then what are you asking me? I said.
Where did she get that?
I gave it to her. It was a gift okay. And I didn’t steal it, you can ask my mom.
The Slits, he said, hissing. The Slits? Have you no shame?
This is coming from a cop? I asked.
No . . . oh, no, he said, turning back. No, no, no, my daughter is not your billboard—.
That’s not yours! I said, watching him carefully remove the pin. Don’t do that! I said, raising my right hand.
It’s mine now he said.
Don’t touch me! I said, raising my right hand, yelling at him, but he wasn’t listening.
I can’t believe you, he said.
Me? You can’t believe me? You’re the one, I said. You pretend like you want her to be health and normal, but you don’t! You like controlling her, you like that she’s never going to grow up!
You like me brain dead, don’t you? I asked, raising my hand.
Hey! he shouting, snapping his finger and pointing at me. Take it back, he said.
No, I said. And no, I said, raising my right hand.
He looked at Melody, and then he looked at me again: I said, take it back.
And then I raised my hand: Give me back my pin.
No, he said. Out of the question.
And then, I raised my hand, like I was taking an oath, and I told him exactly what she said: Fuck you.
His mouth fell open.
Taking my pin away, and you have the audacity to point fingers? No, I said, lowering my hand. You’re the one who is out of line.
Don’t ever use that language with me again, he said, locking his jaw.
Don’t take things that aren’t yours, and I won’t have to, I said. Do you want to take me home now or should I walk? I asked, glaring at him.
He stared at Melody in the back seat, but I knew she wasn’t looking at him. She was angrier than I was. He turned the engine over, and pulled out again, heading for my street. No one said another word the whole way home.