The Proper Words for Sin

All the Big Things

77 ALL THE BIG THINGS Because the other young women the newspaper interviewed were being left behind for the first time, Connie forgave them for saying things like, “I know he’ll be careful,” and “I’ll pray every day for him,” as if any of that would make a difference. Her husband Duane had been deployed and finished his tour, but he hadn’t come back. This Duane barely spoke. This Duane threatened her with his eyes and fucked her without foreplay as if he’d paid for her. He was nice to the kids, she gave Duane that, but it was the nice of a schoolteacher , not a father. He didn’t touch them, not even when he let them peck his cheek in what passed for a kiss. Connie was sure the newspaper had put her in the article because Duane had signed up for a second tour. That made him a hero to some, and she’d known enough, with a week still to go before he left, to say how much she admired his courage, which was true enough, as long as courage was the same as not giving a damn about what happened to yourself. And she didn’t say a word about what a relief it was to have him go. “Afghanistan II, the Sequel—does it feel any different having lived through the first tour?” the reporter had asked her. Right now five of the eight movies at the mall theaters were sequels —cartoons, comedies, comic book characters. And crime, she 78 ALL THE BIG THINGS thought—as if what was successful was any kind of movie whose subject started with C. “I can’t wait for the movie to end,” she said, and he’d smiled as if she’d said something clever. He looked years younger than Duane, who wouldn’t be twenty-three until he was two months deep in Afghanistan, but she knew he must have at least graduated from college. My husband, she could have told him, is capable of killing a fool like you. “They picked me out for my kids,” is what she told Duane’s mother, Doris. “They made sure I was holding the both of them for the picture.” “There’s a danger in that,” Doris said. “Now the whole world knows you’re by yourself in that house.” “Mom, really.” “All sorts read the papers.” “Not so much anymore, Mom. Now they check Facebook.” “Those people,” Doris said, her expression as fixed as a funeral director’s. “Those people are just asking for it.” When the article was printed with a sidebar that included pictures of all three soldiers who were being deployed, Connie clipped it and showed it to Duane. The photo of Duane in uniform was the one she’d kept on the kitchen table like a centerpiece during his first tour. “You saving this?” he said. “It’s something for the girls to have.” “‘He’s a good soldier,’” Duane read aloud, and the way he made the words sound brought heat to her face. “They’re talking bullshit here.” “It doesn’t matter what those other women are saying. It’s a keepsake for the girls.” Duane crumpled it into a tight ball. “Not anymore,” he said, leaving it on the table. And when Clarice, their five-year-old daughter, ALL THE BIG THINGS 79 had tried, a few minutes later, to straighten it, Duane had slapped her hand hard. Clarice hadn’t cried, but her younger sister, Torrie, started bawling. Duane had smoothed out the article then and handed it to Clarice, kissing her forehead before moving to Torrie and doing the same. “I’ll be gone in two days,” he said after they ran into the living room. “They can worship that thing all they want after that.” * * * The day after Duane left, Doris showed up at her door at 8:30 in the morning. “Let’s get you and the doll babies out of this house,” she said. “You should have called. What if you drove the twenty-two miles and we weren’t here?” Doris smiled and waved at the girls as they tumbled from their room. “If I’d called, you would’ve said ‘no.’ I packed a lunch for everybody for after we look at all the animals I know are just waiting for the girls to enjoy.” “The zoo...