We Don't Filet Rainbows, We Gut Them

We Don’t Filet Rainbows We Gut Them

Daddy busted a knuckle on the back of my head but that’s what I get for talking back. He was mad because I denied drinking the rest of the milk and I told him that he probably used it for his coffee. I didn’t drink the milk but I wish I did. We’re always out of milk. We’re always out of everything. It sucks. Mama says that I need to learn when to shut my mouth. I know she’s right but I won’t ever tell her that. My little brother, Wayne, can’t take a punch like I can. I’m tougher than he is. I think Wayne drank the milk but I would never tell on him even if I knew for sure that he did. The girls, my two sisters, get away with everything. I told Wayne that I think Daddy wants to fuck them and he thinks so too. We fight with them when our parents leave and we tease them that they don’t get in trouble because Daddy wants to fuck them. Carole threatens to tell but we won’t shut up. Faye, my oldest sister, tries to claw my face off. She says that just because he’s our step-dad it doesn’t mean he’s not our Daddy. They think we’re both sick. Mama said that girls need more attention than boys do and that we should be grateful for what we get. Sometimes she stops at the store when she gets off work and buys us each a tube of Copperhead BBs. Daddy told us to never shoot songbirds but everything else is fair game. We only shoot pop bottles and beer cans. Mama brings us jawbreakers that she gets from the machine at the laundromat where she works. They’re good but they hurt my teeth. At school they gave us minty tablets that turned our teeth pink. Mama said that they’re plaque tablets and the pink shows where the plaque is. Daddy calls them poverty mints. Our teeth glow fuzzy pink. Daddy recently got a job at the fish hatchery. He’s been bringing home buckets of rainbow trout. We don’t filet the trout, we gut them. Daddy said that removing pin bones from filets is a bitch and it’s easier to cook them whole. Daddy said that we can cut the heads off of the next batch because my sisters can’t eat fish with faces. I’m glad that they said something because I don’t like seeing fish with fried eyes. Wayne won’t eat the fish at all because he says it’s mean. Daddy calls him a pussy boy which makes him cry. Daddy makes Wayne help me clean the fish. Wayne has a sensitive stomach and he heaves if he touches guts. We clean the fish on an old picnic table behind our trailer. I let Wayne stand close to me and he pretends to clean the fish with me. If Daddy comes Wayne knows what to do. I clean the fish and Wayne puts them on ice in the cooler. When the cooler is full he takes them in to Mama so she can cook them up and I clean up the mess outside. I always remember to smear a little blood on Wayne’s hands and shirt before he goes inside. Daddy would be pissed if he saw that Wayne’s hands were clean.