Mom and Dad always fought. Maybe not always, but after we left the big camp. He would try to cool her down by picking me up, pulling her into a family hug and saying, “this is what we hold on to.” Then one time that didn’t work. Dad brought the Brady Bunch back to the motel. That’s what mom called them. There was a man and a woman and six or seven kids, and Dad fed them all and gave them stuff, even some batteries. Mom demanded he take the stuff back. She said he was being stupid. He said he was showing mercy. He said that the world couldn’t be put back together without that. Mom said he was drunk and just wanted to fuck Mrs. Brady. He was drunk, he said, but to show her how much he didn’t want to fuck Mrs. Brady, he hit mom. He said he was sorry but there was nothing to hold onto after that. Not for mom, anyway.