by Becky Melby
“Spaz.”
“Thanks for the reassurance.” Dani tugged at her faded army-green shirt. “How am I do—”
A short round girl wearing a black tank top that looked like it was sprayed on opened a cupboard door. “Ashtray.”
“Sorry.” Dani pointed to the smoke alarm straight above the girl. “Landlord won’t allow it.”
The girl rolled her eyes and tucked her unlit cigarette behind her ear.
“What’s your name?” Dani tried matching the irritated tone. It wouldn’t pay to be too polite. She grabbed a paring knife, the only knife she’d brought, and cut the plastic off a pizza.
“C.J.” The girl scratched her belly. “You do karate, huh?”
“Kickboxing, actually.” What’s your specialty? “How long have you been with the Sisters?”
“Dunno. A long time.”
“Why’d you join?”
C.J. shrugged and walked over to the fridge. “Don’t wanna get beat up mostly.” She opened the refrigerator door and took out a can of Mountain Dew. Sticky spray hit Dani in the arm. “Yamile wants a powwow. We better get out there.”
The oven hadn’t finished preheating, but Dani slid in two pizzas. The timer knob spun like a top. Both hands of the clock on the back of the stove hung limp and lifeless. She followed the girls and sat on the floor.
Yamile twirled the rings on her index finger. “We gotta tell Cerise wha’sup. She don’t know the rules yet.”
Leah’s hand shot in the air, a move sickeningly close to a gesture once accompanied by “Heil Hitler!” She lowered it, still stiff, to her side. “Don’t steal my man.”
The others nodded and laughed.
“Oh yeah.”
“So true.”
“Y’s the boss,” C.J. added, pointing at Yamile. “Do what she says.”
The scar pulling at Yamile’s eye lost its tightness as she smiled. “Rule number one.”
“Stay loyal.”
“Gotta have honor. Be true to your people.”
“Respect.”
“Take care of your sisters.”
Rules ping-ponged across the room. Dani pulled her knees to her chest as a reality hit with the force of a fist. What they’re trying to be is what the church is supposed to be. Where were the Christ-followers, the hands and feet of Jesus, in this neighborhood? A song she’d sung in Haiti filtered through the four-letter words and raucous laughter. “Let peace begin with me.”
Yamile wrapped a strand of hair around her finger, let it spring loose, and did it again. “And what happens if you break the rules?”
“Consequences.” Like a classroom of first graders, they answered in unison, adding fist-in-hand gestures and pantomimes of cut throats.
Dani nodded. “Got it.”
“You better.” Yamile leveled a warning glare then dissolved in laughter. “So what’s goin’ on with everybody?”
What followed was a time of gut-honesty that reminded Dani of the “sharing and caring” times in her singles’ group—minus the prayer. And the hope.
“My dad’s back in jail.”
“My sister’s pregnant.”
“Me and Jay had a fight again.”
“Anybody heard from Rab and Trish?” Leah asked.
Rena shook her head.
Venus stretched and yawned. “We gotta figure the Roses are gonna retaliate, right?”
“Maybe not. Rab didn’t get anything.”
“Somebody bust into my house with a gun even thinkin’ about takin’ my stuff and I’m gonna—”
“They know they ain’t got a chance. We’ll—”
The rattle of the kitchen doorknob interrupted Yamile.
“Chi!”
Ice slithered through Dani’s veins. She couldn’t run or hide, but she could stand on her feet and pray she wouldn’t need to use them to defend herself against a pregnant woman.
China wore no makeup. She’d lost weight. Dani watched her eyes. She dropped a grocery bag on the kitchen counter. It made only a rustling sound. Clothes? China looked at Yamile. “This stinks, but I don’t have a choice. Who’s Cerise?”
Dani flattened her hands against the wall behind her. “I am.”
“What the—” China spun from Dani to Yamile. Vile words sliced the air. “What kinda sick joke you pullin’?”
Yamile stood. Her hands flexed. “What you talkin’ about?”
“Why do you think I tried taking her out at the bonfire? She’s a poser. What’d she tell you?” She turned on Dani. “You’re renting this place? And you want me moving in with you?” Tears mingled with a screeching laugh. “You’re hoping I’ll blow my brains out just like Miguel, aren’t you? I didn’t give you the Romeo and Juliet story I promised. Did you bring the poison? Or a gun? I’d like pills, if that’s okay with you. Tried the gun. Oh yeah, you saw that.” Her dark eyes lost their depth. “Her name is Danielle. She’s a reporter. She’s the one who told me to break up with Miguel. I listened to her, and now he’s dead.”
Yamile closed in on Dani. Venus and Leah flanked her. Yamile’s scar puckered. “That true?”
C.J. rose to her feet. Instead of joining the half circle moving in on Dani, she slid around the corner into the kitchen. The oven door opened and closed.
Yamile glanced at Dani’s feet. “That true? You’re not Cerise?” She shifted from right to left and back again.
Dani held her gaze. “That’s true.”
“You doing a story on us?”
“Yes.”
Yamile stopped pacing and clenching. Her head tipped to one side. Dani had the sudden realization that her life literally hung in the balance. Seconds passed. And then Yamile smiled. Her right hand relaxed. Dani’s silent sigh half-emptied her lungs when a blur to her left ended with a head-rattling slap. A shower of light points distorted her vision. When they vanished, Yamile’s face loomed inches from hers.
“Nobody lies to me. You really thought you’d get away with this? You come here and listen in on our plans…. You wearing a wire like on TV? Recording all our secrets? And you think you can put it in the paper and nothin’s going to happen to you?”
Leah clamped hands on her hips. “Let’s show her.”
Two of the other girls stood. “Can’t mess with the Sisters.”
Yamile shoved her against the wall.
“Don’t you—” Rena grabbed Yamile’s arm.
Yamile shook her off. “Whose side you on, girl? You defending this poser against the rest of us? Sorry mistake. No wonder Jarod don’t treat you good. We been feelin’ sorry for you, but maybe it’s all your problem. You got a loyalty problem, Fiorini? Sergeant Metzger getting to you?” She grabbed a handful of Rena’s hair and jerked her toward the floor.
The action shocked Dani out of paralysis. “Let go of her. Now. Your problem’s with me. And guess what? This is my place. And guess what else? I proved myself, and you let me join the Sisters. So if you say you believe in loyalty, and you want to be true to your rules, you have to hear me out. There’s nothing honorable about beating on somebody when you don’t know why she’s doing what she’s doing.”
For once her wordiness had a positive effect. Yamile’s jaw dropped, she blinked, and laughed. “Man, you talk good. Okay. Sure.” She motioned for the others to sit. “Make it good, Cerise.”
CHAPTER 26
Dani leaned against the wall, hoping she looked casual. In truth, she needed it for support.
Forearms tightened over her abdomen, China glared at Yamile, walked into the kitchen, picked up her paper bag, and walked to the door.
Dani cleared her throat. “I’m going to tell you the most important thing right up front. I’m a Christian. I believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and the main goal of my life is to surrender to Him and give Him honor.”
Venus cocked her head to one side. “He teach you to fight like that?”
Swallow. Think. Lord, help! “That’s a fair question. I don’t claim to make the best decisions, okay? But I use martial a
rts to defend myself, not to cause harm. Anyway, I met China while I was doing a story a few months ago. She confided some things. If she was telling me the truth, Miguel was controlling her big-time, and it made me mad. I told her she deserved better than that. Any of you disagree? You think some guy should use you and have power over you?”
Heads shook.
“Nuh-uh.”
“No way.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Dani saw China, still standing by the door, arms still hugging her unborn child.
“I told her she should try to go on to school and maybe find a church to connect with so she could break out of the cycle of poverty and violence and become the kind of person she could feel good about. Any of you think that’s a bad thing?”
Leah snickered. “Dreamer. Easy for you to walk into our world and say that. Any of us try getting out, we get knocked down.”
C.J. gave a fake smack to the side of Leah’s head. Leah crumpled to the floor. “Jus’ like that.”
“I can see me walkin’ into church.” C.J. spun the chain encircling her wrist. “All the little church ladies havin’ heart attacks.”
As they all, including Rena, laughed, Dani eyed her car keys hanging on a hook on a kitchen cupboard and considered walking out. She’d have to get past China first. “But what if the church started acting like the church?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” A girl with stringy black hair and knees drawn to her chest asked the question while picking black nail polish from her fingernails.
“Anybody know anything about Jesus?”
“He was born in a manger.”
“He died on a cross.”
“He fed a bunch of people with a couple fish.”
“Okay. Let’s take just that. Jesus is God. He helped create the world. He left all the splendor of heaven to come here as a baby born in a stable to show us He gets us. He knows all the hard stuff we deal with every day.”
“Great. And then they killed him.” Leah rolled her eyes. “Not such a smart move to come here.”
Sweat dampened Dani’s sides. If she couldn’t make this make sense, they’d devour her. “But it was a smart move. Yamile, what would happen if you made a rule and Leah deliberately defied it? What if she broke every rule you made?”
Yamile leveled a finger gun at Leah, aiming right between her eyebrows.
“So God’s the same way. Only He’s totally perfect.”
Yamile pointed to herself with both thumbs. “You sayin’ I’m not?”
Dani smiled. “God made this world and made people to fill it and then gave them rules. Since He’s perfect, He couldn’t put up with anyone breaking His rules. You break ’em, you die.” She waited for a chorus of affirmations to quiet. “The problem was that He loved the people He created. They’re His kids. So He gave them a way out. He let them kill an animal, a lamb or a goat, in their place so they wouldn’t have to die when they broke His rule.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“Gross.”
“A sacrifice,” Rena added.
“Exactly.” She chanced a quick look at China. The girl seemed frozen in place. “And then, because He loved his kids so much, God sent His own Son to Earth to be the very last sacrifice. Jesus was perfect. He never once sinned. When soldiers nailed Him to a wooden cross, He could have gotten away, but that was what He came to earth to do—to die like a slaughtered lamb, a sacrifice, to pay the price for the sins of God’s people.”
The room was quiet for a moment. Yamile nodded. “So like, if Leah broke all those rules, and I had to off her, but I loved her so I killed my kid instead ’cause somebody had to die for what she did… that would be the same, huh?”
“Yeah.” Sort of. Lord, don’t let me mess this up. “The difference is that even though it had to hurt God unbelievably to see His Son suffer, He knew that after Jesus died He’d bring Him back to life, and they’d live in heaven together. And by doing that, He showed us that we can live forever, too. We don’t have to sacrifice anything. We need to get to know Jesus and believe how much He loves us. We need to grow to love Him and believe that He gave up His life here on earth to pay the price for everything we do wrong. That’s how we have eternal life in heaven after we leave this life.”
Again the silence. C.J. crossed her legs in front of her and furrowed her brow. “That’s crazy stuff. So what about the church being the church?”
“Somebody mentioned Jesus feeding a bunch of people. The time He was here on earth was spent caring for others. He healed sick people, made blind people see, and told everyone about God. He wants His followers to do the same thing. So that brings me back to what I’d like to do with you guys. Most Christians care about people. Most of us do things like sending money to feed and clothe hungry children in other countries and to support missionaries who go to places like Africa or India to tell people about Jesus. But a lot of us, myself included, are scared to get face-to-face with people with real problems, people who desperately need to hear about Jesus.”
“People like us, you mean.” Attitude laced Yamile’s words. “So you want to put stuff in the paper to show people how bad we got it so all the church ladies can come to the ’hood on Sundays and give us cookies and then go home and feel all good about themselves the rest of the week.”
Like uncapping a shaken soda bottle, Yamile’s comments started a flow of cynicism.
“God bless you, poor underprivileged Sistuh.”
“Jesus love you even though your daddy don’t. Just belieeeeve.”
“Your mama’s a crack head, but don’t you worry none, ’cause Jesus loves you.”
“Have a cookie, Sistuh.”
Dani pressed her hands over her face. This wasn’t working. “I’m not talking about cookies. Not charity. I’m talking about people giving you their time—training you for jobs, tutoring, helping you finish high school or get your GED, maybe teaching life skills like cooking and budgeting and”—she pinned her gaze on China— “parenting.”
C.J. did another sweep of eyes to ceiling. “I seen those people. They painted my ma’s house one time. Whole bunch of squeaky cleans in matching shirts.” She jabbed a finger toward her tonsils. “Made the house all pretty outside while my brother’s shooting up in the basement. What’s the point?”
Venus shook her head. “Maybe the point shoulda been showin’ your brother how to paint his own house and get off his lazy—”
“Stop it.” The quiet command came from the doorway to the kitchen.
Dani’s jaw unhinged. All eyes turned to China.
“We sit around complaining about the way things are, and then somebody comes along who wants to change things, and we put her down. I say we give her a chance.”
Yamile swiveled on her throne. “One second you want to kill her, and now you’re sayin’ give her a chance?”
“Yeah.” China glanced at Dani then back at Yamile. In that second, Dani sensed a significant change. “We owe it to the younger ones.” She pointed at C.J. “I don’t want her thinkin’ she’s gotta do whatever some guy says just to survive. We owe it to them to give them choices.”
Dani finally found the presence of mind to close her mouth.
Venus narrowed eyes thick with mascara. “What do you want from us?”
“Tell me your stories. Your hopes and dreams and hurts. I’ll make up names so no one will know who you are. Leave me out of anything that isn’t legal, but let me hang out with you for a couple of weeks.”
Yamile tapped fingernails on the chair’s aluminum arms. Leah leaned forward. “The guys won’t like it.”
The scarred side of Yamile’s face tightened, puckered. A steely gaze swept the room. “Then we don’t tell them. Everybody got that?”
Like a roomful of bobble head dolls, they all agreed.
Nerves stretching and thinning like violin strings, Dani waited for the conditions. Yamile rose slowly to her feet. The room hushed. “Two weeks. Fourteen days. You write your story, and I get to r
ead it. If I say change something, you change it.” She stepped closer, face within inches of Dani’s. “Like Chi said, we’ll do it for the younger ones. But you turn on us, you make one wrong move”—she pointed at her scar—“you’ll be lucky if you look like this. Got it?”
“Yes.”
Yamile brushed past her. “Let’s get.”
She walked out the door, Leah and Venus at her heels.
C.J. stopped at the door and turned, her face void of expression. “You tell those church ladies if they want to make it outta this neighborhood with all their teeth, they better bring cookies.” Laughter sparkled in her eyes.
Relief coursed out of Dani in a rippling laugh. “You give me two weeks, and I’ll throw in chocolate chip and oatmeal and peanut butter and snickerdoodles.”
“Oreos.”
“Yes. Oreos. Lots and lots of Oreos.”
C.J. walked out the door and down the steps.
China dropped her paper bag on the floor and stared into the living room.
Dani rested a hand on her back. “You can have the bedroom.”
Unanswered questions woke Nicky before ten on Tuesday morning. He’d spent his evening off in the kitchen, gluing down loose vinyl floor tiles, soaking stove burners in degreaser, and replacing a pot handle. He’d even fixed the three-legged chair.
Mind-numbing work that didn’t help him figure things out. Or tire him. Even after four hours of baking, his thoughts still raced. At best he’d gotten five hours of restless sleep. Disjointed dreams had haunted his night. A lingering kiss, a crucifix, an angry black seven dripping red.
Face down on the mattress, he pulled a pillow over his head. Sleep… sleep… He tried a hypnotic chant followed by counting backward from a hundred. Ninety-nine…ninety-eight…ninety-seven… Rena was in a gang. “Is that why they leave us alone?”Ninety-two…ninety-one… “You don’t have to worry. I’m getting out.” Eighty-one…eighty… seventy-nine… “Can you?” Seventy-seven…seven…seven…seven…
Crack! The sound zinged through the open windows and reverberated off the kitchen walls. Wake up. The nightmare again. He knew he was in it, knew it wasn’t real, but he couldn’t get out. The sound was so close. Just outside. He dropped the spoon, ran to the back door, but stopped and called 911. This isn’t real. Wake up.
