Free The Orange Houses by Paul Griffin Page B

work.”
    â€œI worry that he . . . ” Fatima’s eyes stopped on something across the street.
    They crossed the strip to read a poster taped to the whitewashed glass of a vacant storefront: DID YOU KNOW THAT YOU COULD MAKE 5-10K/MONTH WORKING AS AN INFORMATION SPECIALIST FOR THE U.S. DEPT OF IMMIGRATION?
    â€œInformants,” Fatima said. “They are recruiting informants.”
    Mik ripped the poster down.

chapter 27
    TAMIKA
    Mik’s bedroom, Wednesday, seven days before the hanging, 7:00 p.m. . . .
    She studied the paper dolls she made that afternoon with Fatima and the kids at the VA: elephants and baboons, animals Mik had seen only behind zoo barricades but Fatima had seen in her country’s streets. She laid out the figures on top of her newest sketch, the Orange Houses as seen from the roof of the abandoned doctor’s house behind Fatima’s.
    Mik shut her eyes, whispered, “If a city without walls . . . ”
    She saw herself in her dream world. As she walked the streets they turned from ink to pavement, the penned buildings to brick and glass. She touched the newsprint animals and they came to life. A zebra herd grazed the park lawn. Monkeys hung out in the playground. Pelicans and pigeons flocked as one over the Orange Houses. A gust spun the birds—
    Mom created a draft when she opened the bedroom door. She was dressed for work. “I left the Lean Cuisines in the microwave on thaw.”
    â€œNaNa down yet?”
    Mom shook no.
    â€œI’ll bring her dinner up.”
    Mom eyed the new hearing aids on Mik’s desk as she closed the door.
    Â 
    NaNa nursed her cold in bed. Mik brought her soup. NaNa took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Swear I’m going blind. Child, I’m in a jam for my Bible study tomorrow. Read this for me. Micah 7, let’s do 18 and 19.”
    Mik read, “‘God, who are you, that you pardon and forgive us? You show us mercy. You show us compassion. You throw away our sins and banish our crimes to the bottom of the sea.’”
    â€œI must tell you, it’s so nice to hear you speaking again. When you were young we could not get you to hush up. Been awful quiet these last ten years.” NaNa flipped the book to another dog-eared page. “And this, the underlined.”
    â€œPsalms, 104, verses 15 and 16. ‘Man’s days are like grass. He blossoms like wildflowers. Then the wind blows over the field and the flowers dry up and fade and are forgotten. ’”
    â€œWhat all you think that means?”
    â€œBible study, huh?”
    NaNa blew the heat off her soup. “Sort it out for me.”
    Mik rolled her eyes. “I’d say the psalm means time is short, do what you got to do.”
    â€œWhat about the Micah?”
    â€œ I don’t know, NaNa. I got homework—”
    â€œMore than God, you know whom you got to ask for forgiveness? Whom you got to go to for compassion, to show mercy? To give all y’all’s love?”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œYou.” NaNa nailed Mik with bright eyes.
    â€œMe?”
    Â 
    The next day Jaekwon waited out in the hall for Mik. “I got news you need to know.”
    â€œStep off.”
    â€œWhy you gotta be such a hater, yo? Ever hear of forgive and forget? You fix your hair different or something?”
    She ran her hand over her do: same old crow’s nest. She hooked into the stairwell.
    â€œI came to warn you, Shanelle getting ready to posse up on you.”
    â€œWhat I ever did to her?”
    â€œGetting her suspended ain’t enough? Her aunt belt-whipped her. She got drunk and crying last night, say you make her feel stupit.”
    â€œ I do?”
    â€œShe knows you’re going places she ain’t. She say she catch you without that bodyguard chick, she-a dead you.” Jae shrugged. “Sha got mad head problems, man, you don’t know. Chick is wack .”
    â€œThen why y’all hang