Blue Sky

by D. Bryant Simmons

I nodded, pointing at the tin box sitting against the base of the tub. “I need a little pick me up.”

  He passed me the stash and continued with his story while I searched under the bags of pot and piles of cigarette papers.

  Old school Catholics generally weren’t the run off to Vegas and elope type of folks. Kem took his time finding words that took some of the sting out of their reaction. It wasn’t me they rejected, it was how everything happened so quickly and so far away from them.

  “They want to meet you.”

  “So, they can have me killed?”

  “That’s not funny,” he snapped.

  “Want some?” I offered after a hearty snort of angel dust. After all, he was as much a morning person as I.

  “Maybe we should take a break. For now…from the blow and reefer.”

  “Because I made a bad joke?”

  “Because like you said, your family needs you right now. Mya…the kids…your mom…”

  “Yeah, Kem. I get it.”

  “It’s a tough time—”

  “I got it. I’ll stop. Okay? Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get in the shower.”

  Swarms of folks flowed down the corridor, some of them angrily buzzing about parking tickets, others more somber, but most didn’t carry the weight of anything at all, wearing faces that said it was like any other day. A work day. They’d clock in and clock out and get paid at the end of the week. Showing up here didn’t mean their lives were taking an unexpected turn, about to be ruined beyond all belief, nope it was just Monday to them.

  “There’s Nikki.” Heziah nodded in the direction of the last door on our left. She was standing side by side with a petite woman in a pants suit. Her hard face was fixed to do business.

  “We late?”

  “No, I just got here early. This is Mrs. Krakowski. She’s Mya’s new attorney. Jean-Louis hired her. This is my mother and stepfather.”

  “How do you do?”

  “Nice to meet you.” Heziah shook her hand briefly.

  Even with all that was going on, Nikki couldn’t resist celebrating. That toad of a man finally did something decent. She stared at me as if she expected to see a visual change in my opinion of him.

  “They bring Mya out yet?”

  “Not yet, Mrs. Jenkins. See most times they wait until thirty minutes before the case is called to bring the accused out, but I’ll get five minutes with her beforehand to introduce myself and let the court services officer know that I’ll be taking over the defense.”

  “She comes highly recommended.”

  The woman nodded appreciatively then shifted her attention to the man dressed up like a security guard and followed him into a door marked Court Personnel Only.

  “Where’s Jackie?”

  “She’ll be here.” I answered, but my mind had begun to wander. Somewhere behind that door, my baby was waiting for this nightmare to be over. Made me think of that night she ran away from home. Worst night of my life. Imagining where she was, if she was cold or hungry or what she was thinking.

  “I’m sure she’s just running late,” Heziah was saying as he studied the faces in the crowd. “She’ll be here.”

  “Mama, you wanna sit down? We can wait for her inside.”

  I was well acquainted with the taste, and no longer needed the fruity sweetness. That left only one reason to submerge the liquor in fruit punch. Mama. She was upset enough as it was, she didn’t need to worry about me on top of it. Besides, I was fine. I was good.

  “Excuse me.”

  “No, my fault.” I smiled at the woman with wide shoulders and reoriented myself to the layout of the courthouse.

  I’d ignored the signs forbidding food and beverages at the entrance, but the reminder posted outside the courtroom prompted a quick swig. From here on out, there would be no more drinking, I promised myself and slipped inside.

  The mood was dull, the walls covered in cheap beige paint, and the security guard shushed me as I entered. Why? I don’t know. I hadn’t said anything. Maybe it was my feet. Sometimes they got loud when I least expected them to.

  The judge was a tidy Asian woman whose head barely made an appearance over the bench. She looked fair enough, so I smiled and imagined myself as an emissary on my sister’s behalf, conveying the message that we were reasonable people, not killers.

  “Jackie.” Nikki reached into the aisle and pulled me into the pew beside her. “You’re late!” she whispered. “But you haven’t missed anything. They haven’t gotten to Mya yet.” She nodded to the wall on our left where a row of convicts sat.

  Mya’s direct stare zeroed in on me, and I waved sheepishly. She looked all right, but that didn’t surprise me. If anybody could handle this horrible misunderstanding, it was Mya. She’d always been the most composed of us.

  “You all right?” Mama leaned around Nikki to touch my hand.

  “Fine. I missed the bus.”

  She understood, completely unaware that I missed the bus, so I could stop at the neighborhood liquor store. But then why would she suspect that? I’d been sober for years as far as Mama was concerned. It honestly said more about them, than it did about me that they expected me to give up all substances, especially at a time like this. But even though they didn’t understand me, I couldn’t have loved my family any more. Even Nikki, who sat rigidly, clinging to my hand. I’d had nineteen years as the middle child of Ricky and Pecan Morrow. Wasn’t a thing my mama or sisters could do that would surprise me. Twenty-four hours ago, I would’ve said the same about Kem, but I’d have been wrong. Clearly I didn’t know him as well as I thought. I’d thought we were the same, him and me, but no.

  Nikki’s elbow plummeted against my side just as I heard, “State versus Mya Morrow. Charge of robbery homicide.”

  An old man rose from his seat and met my sister at the defense table as he introduced himself to the court.

  “But that’s not…” Nikki swallowed hard, and her head began bobbing, trying to get a look at every face in the courtroom. Damn booze. I’d missed something.

  “Miss Morrow. How do you plead?”

  “Not guilty.”

  “The state requests remand your honor. Miss Morrow has no ties to the community and has impeded the police at every turn. We believe that if set free, she will continue to prey on the community.”

  “Your honor, my client has never had so much as a parking ticket—”

  “She has no address. No job. No phone number. Not even a driver’s license, so of course, she’s never had a parking ticket!

  “She is very close to her family who is here in the courtroom, your honor.”

  “Bail is set at five hundred thousand dollars. Next case.”

  “Half a million dollars! Are they serious?”

  A glance from Mya was all it took for me to hold my tongue. She was the queen of quiet strength, and the least I could do was keep mum. Nikki took my hand and led the four of us out into the hall, and the sensation hit me again. Proof that I really had missed something. My sister was never getting out! Why hadn’t I seen it before? Didn’t they see it? My heart hiccupped in my chest, and tears threatened to spring from my eyes. But I was the only one. Heziah, Nikki, Mama they all shared the same expression.

  “I can’t believe she did that.”

  “Nikki, it’s her choice.” Heziah sighed.

  “I hand-wrapped her a competent and very free attorney, and she practically spits in my face!”

  “Who? Mya? Who spit in your face?”

  All conversation came to an end as the door to the courtroom opened, and the man who introduced himself as my sister’s representative stepped into the hall.

  “Mrs. Jenkins. Mr. Jenkins. Good to see you both again. I’m going to move for a speedy trial, and hopefully, she won’t spend too long in custody unless you have fifty thousand? For bail?”

  “I’ll put up the house.”

  “Belinda, wait a minute—”

  But Mama had made up her mind. It was her one and
only asset. The only good thing Ricky Morrow had left her. The one thing Mya ran from with consistency. Seemed poetic that it would be the key to Mya’s freedom.

  “That’s our home,” Heziah was saying. “Where would we live?”

  “It will only be a problem if your daughter violates the conditions.”

  “Mya wouldn’t do that,” Nikki insisted, but it didn’t put Heziah’s mind at ease.

  “Take the insurance money. My cut.” I didn’t want it anyway, and what better cause than my sister?

  “Jackie, baby, are you sure? What about school?”

  “Can’t just leave her in there.”

  “No. We can’t,” Heziah stated simply. “But your mother and I won’t stand for you sacrificing your education. We’ll work it out. It’s not for you girls to worry about. Okay?”

  If somebody had asked me a week ago if I had a good imagination, I’d have said yeah, but I would’ve been wrong. Never in a million years would I have imagined I’d be walking down the steps of the Cook County Correctional Facility on a temporary release. And folks was serious about the temporary part.

  Had a long list of things I was forbidden from doing or else I’d end up right back there.

  A car horn broke into the starry December night, and I spared a moment to thank my creator. Wasn’t positive how much he had to do with me ending up in jail, but my exodus had his fingerprints all over it.

  “Miss Morrow.”

  As far as public defenders went, Brooks had a good handle on things. He reached over and unlocked the car door. Waited patiently for me to buckle up, then asked where I wanted to be dropped off.

  “My mama’s house.”

  “All right.”

  I’d gone back and forth on it for the last hour. My kids were with Jackie supposedly, but my sister was a night owl. When normal folks were turning in and winding down, Jackie was fired up and ready to go. And I’d heard she’d gone back to singing at that club, which meant my kids ended up in one of two places. If I had a good grip on the conditions of my bail, and I liked to think I did, then it wasn’t in my best interest to stop by Nikki’s this time of night. Or on any day going forward, if I was completely honest. Scared me, but the truth was I didn’t trust myself around her husband. Didn’t know what I was liable to do. Worst case scenario, I’d end up serving life instead of ten to twenty.

  “Your folks expecting you?”

  “I didn’t call them if that’s what you mean.”

  Traffic was almost nil, but the stoplights had it out for us. Wouldn’t have bothered me a week ago, but every minute I wasted standing still was another minute my kids were left wondering if I’d abandoned them.

  “There is something I want to discuss with you, if you’re not too tired.”

  “Go ahead.” I stared at the gas station on the corner, wondering what brought the drivers out of their warm homes, surely it had to be more than gas.

  “I’d like to try to get you a plea deal on the table. Robbery homicide carries with it a sentence of ten-to-twenty years, and if they try to tie the other cases to yours, it could be as much as forty-five years.” He paused for effect. “So, the way this works is we have to have something to barter. So, if you know anything about—”

  “I don’t.”

  “If you know anything about the other robberies, then you tell me, and I’ll float it along to try to get you a reduced sentence.”

  I nodded. Wasn’t until I heard him exhale that I understood he took the gesture as a confession. “I get it. But I don’t know anything. It wasn’t me.”

  “I understand, but maybe you heard something about it from—”

  “I don’t know anything.”

  “Well, just think it over.”

  The car veered to the left, merging onto the Dan Ryan Expressway. He turned the dial on the radio, oblivious to the fact that he’d drawn my undivided attention. Couldn’t blame him for being jaded, but I expected him to be able to see the truth when it was sitting right next to him. Maybe not the judge, and definitely not the prosecutor, but the man representing me…he should see it.

  ◼︎

  “Hi, Mama.”

  “Oh, baby…come here. You okay?” She held me for a second then ushered me inside and locked the door. “You’re so cold. Where’s your coat?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Didn’t have the heart to tell her I was wearing it. Two sweatshirts, a turtleneck, and a tank top.

  The first floor was dark with the exception of the golden glow illuminating the first ten stairs. Mama moved toward them, and it was the first time in months I’d gotten a good look at her without her wig on. Nikki was right. Looking at her straight on, she didn’t look quite like herself, but she wasn’t the frail cancer patient anymore either. She must’ve felt my thoughts because she raised her hand to tug at the strands of hair that had grown back, wishing them longer.

  “You look good, Mama.”

  “Some girls can carry short hair. I just ain’t one of them.”

  “Sure you are. Looks good on you.” I felt my gaze drifting up the stairs but forced it to stay focused. “Can I stay here?”

  Her response was a cross between a sob and a whimper. And if I had any doubt, she pulled me into a longer hug. It was my house she said. Always would be.

  I followed a few steps behind her, expecting to find an empty bedroom in need of fresh linen, but we stopped outside her bedroom, and she waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Two lumps lay sound asleep beneath Mama’s heavy quilt. One surrounded by pillows, the other arms and legs stretched out, resembling an X with hair.

  “Go on, baby. They been waiting on you.”

  “I was happy to do it. Jean-Louis too.” I smiled and rearranged the presents under the Christmas tree to accommodate my contributions.

  “Somebody’s gonna be one happy little girl.” I’d written “from Aunt Nikki and Uncle J-L” on each card even though Mia was too young to read it.

  “Pretty wrapping paper. Mama, you see Nikki’s presents?” Nat pointed at the slowly expanding pile. “Where’s mine?”

  “What do you mean?” Heziah looked up from the newspaper that had captured his attention. “You’re a teenager now. Too old for Christmas.”

  “I never said that!”

  “Sure you did.” The pages rustled as he went from the business section to travel.

  “He just playing with you, baby. You all got presents under the tree.” Mama returned with a pitcher of eggnog then joined me and Mia on the sofa.

  Mia couldn’t take her eyes away from the stairs. Glancing over at the slightest sound, looking for Mya to come down and join us. Mama tried to reassure her, saying Mya would be down soon as she finished feeding the baby, but Mia was about two seconds from running upstairs anyway.

  “Did everyone get something for Mya?”

  “I did. I got her a set of watercolors,” Nat admitted. “I hope she likes it.”

  Mya was gonna hate it, but I smiled anyway. Most Sunday dinners we never knew if she’d show up, and it didn’t get any better around the holidays. On top of that, she was impossible to shop for, nothing at all like me. I was easy to please.

  “Somebody call Jackie.” Mama sighed, tired after cooking all morning. “Folks can’t be waiting forever. Got everybody in here starving,” she said and pushed the plate of chips and dip closer to the twins.

  Nat was happy to volunteer, but before she could get out of the living room, the doorbell rang. “That’s probably her now.” My sister hurried into the hall.

  The front door protested loudly as the cold air rushed into the house. The bottom half of Heziah’s newspaper fluttered in the breeze, and I reached for the blanket tossed over the back of the sofa.

  I’d prepared for questions about my husband’s absence, but so far everybody was distracted with other things. That would change once Jackie showed up no doubt. She couldn’t resist an opportunity like this. Here we were—the whole family, even Mya. Everyone except him. Wasn
’t like they ever made an effort to make him feel welcomed. From the very beginning, they’d made it clear what they thought of him.

  “Jackie, baby, that you?” Mama called out. “Get on in here and stop letting all the heat out.”

  But the only response was from Nat. Her voice was muffled by the heavy winds. Wasn’t until Mama joined her that we got an inkling that something was wrong.

  Heziah was up first, then me. Trembling, Nat met us in the hallway with wide eyes. “I… I didn’t know what to say. Sh-She just kept saying these things.”

  “Who?”

  “Get off my property!”

  Nat froze in my arms. The two of us, wrapped up in a blanket, watched as Heziah tried to pull Mama away from the woman with the microphone.

  “She ain’t do nothing wrong! You oughta be ashamed—”

  “Just like you, Mrs. Jenkins? Where do you think your daughter got her violent streak from? You? Or her father? Do you regret killing him now that you see what it’s done to your daughter?”

  “There’s no story here. Move on.” The wind suddenly reversed course, aiding in Heziah’s effort to close the door on the determined reporter and her cadre. But it wasn’t enough to bring Mama any kind of peace. “Belinda, calm down.”

  “What’s wrong with these fools? They think they can just knock on my damn door!”

  “Mama!” Nat gasped. Wasn’t everyday that Mama swore.

  “Sorry, baby,” she muttered.

  “Upstairs,” I whispered into her ear, leading her toward the stairs. “Come on.”

  Once we reached the second floor, that was where my plan ended. The drama downstairs was barely audible, not to mention upstairs was where all the heat was. Nat knocked on the door to Jackie’s bedroom and pushed it in enough to stick her head inside. Mya sat in the center of the bed with Alan tucked in the nook of her arm. The tension melted from my baby sister’s body as soon as she stepped in the room. She oooed and ahhed over the new baby, kissing his toes. Wasn’t Christian-like to believe in magical powers, but if we had superpowers, that would’ve been Natalie’s. She forgot so easily, the pain never got to leave its mark.