Hillbilly Elegy

screen door, the guardrails on the steps,
the grass on the ground. The woman
stood there and watched, and I hated her
for doing nothing. But she had in fact
done something: In the minutes between
my call to Mamaw and Mom’s arrival,
the woman had apparently dialed 911.
So as Mom dragged me to her car, two
police cruisers pulled up, and the cops
who got out put Mom in handcuffs. She
did not go quietly; they wrestled her into
the back of a cruiser. Then she was gone.
The second cop put me in the back of
his cruiser as we waited for Mamaw to
arrive. I have never felt so lonely,
watching that cop interview the
homeowner—still in her soaking-wet