Free At-Risk by Amina Gautier Page A

posts, and everything looked the same, but Blue seemed to know where to stop.
    â€œWait right here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” He jumped out of his side and slammed the door behind him, walking at a fast pace, heading toward a shadowy figure standing on the corner a block away.
    â€œBlue must know that guy,” I said, watching as he slowed when he got to the man’s side. Their profiles talked to each other. Blue put his hand out, maybe to shake. “See, look. They’re shaking hands.”
    â€œNo they’re not.”
    â€œYes they are. See.”
    â€œShut up,” Peter said.
    The other guy took his hand and they stood like that for a second, with their hands in each other’s. Then they drew back, and Blue walked away from the man, turning the corner, where we could no longer see him.
    Every five minutes, I asked Peter what time it was, but Blue didn’t come back.
    â€œWhere did Blue go?” I asked.
    Peter shrugged, silent and distant. He was hugging himself like it was cold.
    â€œWhat if he never comes for us?”
    â€œHe will. And when he comes back, he’ll be feeling fine.”
    â€œHow come?”
    For a while, he wouldn’t say anything to me. He started to play with the radio. He shut it off and began to open and close the glove compartment, pulling it down and slamming it closed hard. Then in a small voice, “You don’t understand anything.”
    â€œWe’re never going to get back home,” I said, trying not to cry.
    Peter flicked a glance to me. “You’re with me,” Peter said. “Remember that.” He put his arm around me. We sat like that for about twenty minutes, scared.
    When Blue came back, he was walking much slower. He seemed to walk and dip, his head nodding. He opened the driver’s door. “Hey,” he said, smiling easy at us before getting in. “How y’all doing?”
    Peter didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say.
    Blue seemed different from when he left. Looser, somehow. He looked happy and sleepy.
    â€œEverybody all right?” he asked, scratching his knee.
    Peter wouldn’t talk.
    â€œWe’re fine,” I said.
    â€œGood. Yeah, that’s real good,” Blue said, and he drove us home.
    â€œWhere were you?” was the first thing our mother wanted to know when we got back.
    â€œHey baby,” Blue drawled. “I just took them for a little ride. I wanted to spend some time with my son and I didn’t want to leave the little miss all alone.”
    Our mother looked straight through him. She yanked us over to her side. “You got a lot of nerve,” she hissed. “I should kill you dead!”
    â€œWhat’s wrong, Deloris baby? What you talking about, girl?”
    â€œDon’t try to play me for a fool, Blue. I know you. I know you,” she said. “Whatever you do, you gonna have to do it on your own.”
    â€œCome on now,” Blue said, smiling easy. “I was just spending some time with my son.”
    â€œYou can do that right here in the house, Blue. I never gave you permission to take them nowhere. I never said you could do that.”
    â€œYou never said I couldn’t,” he said. “Come on baby, what’s the matter baby?”
    â€œDon’t play with words with me when I’m this close—” she stopped and looked down at us. Then she did something she hardly did. She put her arms around us. “You all right?” she asked us, her hands warm on our shoulders. I didn’t answer. I wanted the feeling to last. I thought it felt familiar. She must have touched us like this before—with love and concern and tenderness—but I couldn’t remember that far back.
    â€œWe’re okay,” Peter said, cutting the moment short.
    Her hands slipped away and she straightened her shoulders. “Good. What happened?” she asked us. “Somebody is