believe in much of anything these days.
Besides, he much preferred dealing with things he could see. Even if they showed up in the form of gats and Uzis. Breaking out of his reverie he gazed at Mama, shut his eyes, and then opened them to find there was no change.
The whites of Mamaâs eyes was all he could see. Her eyes were rolled up in the back of her head.
Spittle was forming in the corner of her mouth. Papa hobbled over to her as fast as his eighty-two years would allow. Gently he touched her arm. He knew that fast movements might lock her in the trance for longer than he wanted.
âWhatâs wrong, Mama?â he repeated, trying to penetrate her psyche.
Mama blinked. Her eyes rolled back to their proper place. She looked at Papa as though she couldnât see him, but could only feel that he was there. âThey done shot Milkbone. Heâs dead.â
Mama knew all the players.
She had fed and clothed enough of these kids over time when their no-good sorry mamas had preferred getting high to feeding and clothing their kids. She had seen enough of them trading their food stamps for drugs, letting their kids go hungry.
Papa waited. He knew there was more. He felt it in his bones. In fact his left knee was throbbing. That never happened unless something more than what was on the surface was going on.
âAisha Jackson, that precious little darling, was in her window, Papa. She done saw the whole thing. Why was she in her window?â
Papa didnât know how to answer so he remained quiet, like the still waters he had been reared in. He was a quiet man by nature, one who observed more than he spoke.
âItâs here, Papa. Thatâs why all this killingâs going on. Our people donât understand their spirits is being traded.â
Papa put an arm around her shoulder. Slowly but surely he guided her away from the window over to the couch. Mama looked at Papa. She swallowed hard before saying, âIt done took Aishaâs speech. That girlâs in trouble. Weâve got to get it back.â
Papa definitely didnât like the sound of this one. It reminded him of the swamps of Louisiana many a year ago. Sometimes when the realms or spirits as they are known to some people were fixing to act up this was the kind of stuff you heard. Problem was, these people in the North didnât know nothing about that.
And he knew todayâs kids were wide-open vessels to the magic of darkness. They didnât have nothing to fight with. Finally Papa couldnât hold his peace. He spoke. âMama, whatâs that you saw?â
âIt.â
Papa sighed. âWhatâd it say?â
Mama stared at him as though heâd done lost his mind. A shiver raced up her back. âIt said rockabye, baby, Papa.â
Papa froze.
Before Mama could utter another word, he reached for his gilt-paged Bible.
Chapter 15
R ico paced his basement while Temaine sucked on his licorice. There was a knock on the door. Rico pulled his gun from his shoulder holster.
Kesha appeared in the doorway. âMichael Claybay, T-Boneâs brother, is here. He wants to see you. He says itâs important.â
Rico holstered the gun. âSend him down.â
A moment later Michael walked in. He glanced nervously at Temaine. âI got some information for you. Itâs gonna cost you two Gâs.â
Rico reached into his pocket. He flicked the bills into Michaelâs hand without asking any questions.
Michael stared greedily at the bills, before snatching them out of Ricoâs hand. âShannon Davenport is gonna take you out. Heâs got it in his mind that youâre responsible for his daughterâs death.â Michaelâs jaw twitched.
âIs that right?â Rico glanced at Temaine.
Michaelâs voice was fast and clipped. âIt is.â
Rico nodded. âAnd how do you know this?â
âHe told me.â
âAnd what did you tell
Sharon Kleve, Jennifer Conner, Danica Winters, Casey Dawes