Free The Castle Cross the Magnet Carter by Kia Corthron Page B

fury. I have never seen her cry. She’s an athlete, the talent and the drive, skinning her knees and elbows and ignoring the blood to keep the ball in play. The only other time I have glimpsed this look in her was the night before Jack left, when Aunt Pearlie threw him that going-away dinner. He was in a bedroom, some intimate farewell time with Lily and her daughter, his godchild. I was coming back from the bathroom and overheard the private episode, stopping myself short, caught between trying not to pass by the doorway lest it appear I was eavesdropping and being stuck in a spot where I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. Deb Ellen had just barged in, grabbing Jack and now trying to pull him off the bed, wanting him to throw a football with her. He was patient, telling her to give him a few minutes, and when she wouldn’t stop he finally snapped at her to let go and leave him and Lily and the little girl alone. With her and Lily the only girls, I’d noticed moments with Deb Ellen vying for the attention, especially from Jack, no question her favorite brother. With his definitive reprimand, she’d stomped out, and saw me near the door.
    And as if this memory simultaneously comes back to Deb Ellen, her gaze now settles on me. Quiet me, here in the middle of some major Jones family dispute that I don’t even wholly understand. Maybe to her my silence comes off as superior. My heart skips a beat.
    â€œIt wa’n’t Ty’s fault.” Even with her staring right at me it takes a moment before I realize I’m the one she’s addressing.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYour pa. He mighta picked that Christmas fight with Ty, but Ty ain’t to blame.”
    â€œDeb Ellen,” warns Artie Ray.
    Oh yeah, Pa bringing up the chicken pox, the damn taboo. But something ominous in Artie Ray’s tone. Well whatever this little drama is, I want it to be done and over with. Fix my eyes on her. “If you got something to say, say it.”
    She shrugs, looks away. “Maybe I don’t.” She’s not toying with me so much as just realized she stepped into a dangerous room she isn’t sure she wants to enter. She goes to the sparklers box. “Hah! I’m gonna light my other two together !” She strikes the fire. The double-flash is impressive.
    â€œYaw can fight among yourselves over that damn last sparkler.” I turn to leave.
    â€œYou know they weren’t married long before B.J. born.” I turn around. Artie Ray.
    â€œ So ? The way I hear it tell your ma an pa wa’n’t married long fore Ty popped out neither.” My cousins make me lose my grammar.
    â€œYeah, the difference is Ty was still my pa’s.” I start to charge him. “Your pa liked Ty!” I stop short. They all stare at him, Deb Ellen no longer paying attention to the live torch in her hand. “My brother was three before your ma an pa got hitched, so still in the courtin stage, your pa prolly tryin to impress your ma, bein all friendly with her sister’s baby.” He stops. I wait. All of them staring back at me, my breath coming faster.
    â€œSo B.J. gets borned,” Deb Ellen taking it up, “an my ma an Grammaw at the hospital, gettin ready to bring him an your ma home. An your pa volunteers to babysit Ty, he’s four then, waitin for all the women to come back with the new baby. But Ty, he has the chicken pox. An they bring baby B.J. home, an then baby B.J. gets the chicken pox.” And she stops.
    â€œYeah, an d ? Everybody knows that, God . Wasn’t anybody’s fault, the spots hadn’t shown up on Ty yet, they didn’t know he was sick. Pa. I know Pa blames Ty sometimes, like at Christmas, that’s not right, I guess he’s just upset and—”
    They glance at each other.
    â€œWhat!”
    â€œYour pa knew about the chicken pox,” says Artie Ray. “Ty remembers. He went playin in the mud, and your pa give him a