SOUTHERN LEGITIMACY STATMENT: Nina Barufaldi was born in the armpit of Connecticut in 1974 and moved to north Florida so her daddy could work at the paper mill in Jacksonville, and Nina could learn how to get paddled in school, how to listen for rattlesnakes, how to find shade, and to forget how hard it is to ride a bike up a hill.
Where the Armadillo Fades
‘Was a hot summer when them armadillos invaded, little armored piglets. Always actin’ like they got somewhere to be. We ain’t never seen ’em this far north before, but we said that about the turkeys and the ticks and the knotweed twenty years ago—then snakes and bobcats showed up, and now them armadillos. Hell if I know what goes where anymore. Next, we’ll have alligators in these parts.
Jojo found a little armadillo and said we was keepin’ it as a pet, since they didn’t bite or nothin’. I didn’t know how we was gonna feed it, since we was skinny as sticks, only ever eatin’ government cheese and pickles and leftovers from the diner. So I gave it the boot once Jojo fell asleep. She snot-cried for an hour when she woke up, then cussed me out for another hour after that.
This godforsaken town. You good-for-nothin’, lazy Pa. On and on she went.
I stood my ground, though. We wasn’t savin’ nickels for no armadillo, I said.
She said I never saved a nickel my whole life, but I got two in my pocket right now.
When the sun come up, I opened the door to let in some cool morning air, and wouldn’t you know it, that sonofabitch scooted right in and curled up in a pile of rags under the ol’ kitchen table and fell asleep like he’d been doin’ it every day of his goddamn life.
Jojo made that high-and-mighty face she learnt at school, even though she ain’t no better’n anybody. I told her she wasn’t, and then I asked what armadillo taste like.
Next day, Jojo come home from work with a tattered book from the library, some four-day-old lasagna, and thirteen dollars in tips from that diner she works at.
The book said Dillo, that’s what Jojo called him, weren’t no more than three months old, ’cause if he was full-grown, he’d weigh as much as a full gallon of milk. But he was more like a half gallon at best, and didn’t sleep at night, which we’d already figured thanks to his scratchin’ and sniffin’ all the goddamned night.
He don’t belong in this house, I said.
Jojo pulled half-eaten apple slices outta her apron pocket and gave ’em to Dillo. He snorted and did some kinda dance, jumpin’ from one foot to the other like a pacin’ horse.
Baxter, over to the mill, said they was good eatin’, like pork or chicken, and I had half a mind to try it out and solve two problems. But when I come home, I noticed the highway of carpenter ants wadn’t crawlin’ all over the porch and into the house no more. Dang thing musta found a nest under the porch and ate every blasted one of ’em.
I didn’t kick him after that, not once.
I think you like Dillo, Jojo said the next week, when she was pullin’ her uniform off the dryin’ rack. Then she said somethin’ or other like, Daddy… I did it, or I got done, or both, but I didn’t like the sound of it, or how she was actin’ proud, so I just made like I was talkin’ to Dillo.
You a good boy, I said. This house might last another few months if we keep workin’… Ok. Dillo, we just gotta keep on workin’, or else it all comes down.
What’re you talkin’ about? Jojo asked, but I didn’t even remember what I was sayin’. I was just thinkin’ about that look on her face and how it looked just like her mama’s face when she took off.
Two weeks after, when I come home, Jojo’s uniform was on the dryin’ rack, and there weren’t nothin’ left belonged to her ’cept Dillo, who just went around lookin’ for her. In and outta the house, and he wouldn’t settle for nothin’.
She don’t love you, I said. She wants somethin’ better’n you and me, both.
For days he made bigger and bigger circles around the house, makin’ noises like a screamin’ cat, like a pig, like a goddamn baby.
I closed the door to keep out the noise.
You gonna call the bobcats over, I said.
Nuisance. He scratched at the door, but I didn’t open it.
Then he didn’t scratch no more, and two black ants came under the door.
