Demon Copperhead

by Barbara Kingsolver

“Damon,” she said, and then nothing. It was utterly weird. She did not look so good. “I know,” I finally told her, starting to get it. “It’s okay.” She stared at me. “What’s okay?” “That Mom forgot my birthday.” Her blue eyes went big and round. “Oh my God. Damon. When’s your birthday?” “Today. But that’s fine, that you didn’t know. I’m used to it.” Miss Barks looked horrified and started crying. I mean, boo-hoo, grabbing Kleenexes out of the box next to the pictures of the attendance officers’ kids. Nose blowing, black makeup running off her eyes. This was batshit. “It’s really okay,” I told her. “I don’t even care. Okay?” She kept shaking her head, blowing her nose. “No, Damon, I’m sorry. It’s not okay. I’m so, so sorry. It’s your mom.” “What’s my mom?” “It’s bad news.” Of course this is the point where I just lose it, saying Goddamn it, I knew it, you don’t even have to tell me, she got drunk again or took pills and I won’t get to go home for Christmas because she is such a goddamn fucking fuckup! I’m dropping f-bombs on Miss Barks left and right and she’s putting out her hand saying No, no. That I really don’t know. Listen. Mom is dead. No way to that, just, no. I’ve got no more to say here, I’m getting up out of the chair to leave, like maybe I could go to the office and call Mom at work or I don’t know what, while Miss Barks keeps saying yes, she’s sorry but it’s true. She is so, so sorry. I told her I didn’t believe her, but if it was true, then what did she die of,...