Mom is breaking family photos. Digging through boxes Dad packed and making frisbees of them. Just because Margie said she'd rather live with her homeroom teacher Mrs. Cohen than move to El Sobrante.
You're evil. You're an evil little girl, says Mom, shattering pictures while drinking that Johnny Walker stuff adults drink either before or after they get upset.
You want your Daddy and me to die?
Instead of crying, Margie's thing is running into her room, soaring onto bed, making a helmet of pillow, then crying. But this replacement bed doesn't oblige. Its boxspring gongs the floor. A snake uncoils from under pillow and bites her behind the ear. Lots of blood and screams.
Mom calls the cops who bash its head in with batons then arrest her for child endangerment. They say it is nobody's fault. Must have been an infestation at the MattressWorld warehouse. But there is the bloody terrified kid and the broken glass and Johnny Walker all down the pajama bottoms--what are they supposed to do, turn a blind eye?
As the patrol car drives away Mom screams at Margie something about looking at what her rotten behind has done to Mommy now; and with no bed to jump into Margie cannot cry standing up.
Daddy. Bail. Court. AA. El Sobrante. Johnny Walker. A headless snake strangling a Cabbage Patch doll in Margie's soon to be former bedroom. There are woods behind the house with plenty of mice and insects; flooded with dead curly fallen leaves.