Needy Little Things(22)
He rolls his lips together and releases them with a small smack. “No, ma’am.”
She pauses to make sure before slowly turning her attention back to us as a group. “Now, I came up here because Derrick told me they found something else at the scene. A brush. Her mother didn’t recognize it. They can run DNA, but it’ll take a while. White and red. Cartoon cat on it. Sound familiar?”
Jude fidgets next to me, still messing with his eyes, with hands that I now notice are just as irritated.
“No,” Malcolm answers resolutely enough for all three of us.
“Well, look, all of you are going to need to go up to the station to give formal statements. I’ve called your mothers. Told them you were here and that I’ll drive. Give me a few minutes to get ready.” She excuses herself.
“You probably want to start talking right now,” I say to the floor.
“Huh?” Malcolm rummages through a basket of clean laundry.
“Not talking to you.”
“You gave it to me.” Jude’s voice is barely a whisper as he makes the revelation.
“What the hell are y’all talking about?” Malcolm asks, shaking out a wrinkled T-shirt.
“Look at his face. It’s all red,” I say, gesturing toward Jude. “Look at his hands. They weren’t like that until last night.”
Malcolm laughs out loud but stops when neither of us joins in. “Sariyah. Come on now. What are you saying? You think Jude attacked Deja? Mama, I promise you he didn’t. I do want to know why he isn’t more upset about the accusation, though.” He crosses his arms, tilts his head to the side, and waits for Jude to explain.
“Because I know it looks bad. It looks like I got pepper sprayed in the face.”
Malcolm laughs again. “Y’all are really serious? Listen, Ri, that stuff wears off in like twenty minutes. The boy smoked some good herb last night and frankly, I don’t blame him if he smoked some more this morning.” He looks at Jude’s hands. “And that’s just … eczema?”
“Were you with him?” I ask. “When he was supposedly smoking at the festival?”
“No, but—”
“But you screamed at me for leaving Deja alone, when you two didn’t even hold up your end of the deal?”
The muscles in Malcolm’s neck go stiff and he speaks slowly. “Okay, but we weren’t the ones generating needs that made it seem like we were about to get jumped or something.”
“Maybe you were! I can’t hear your needs!” Tears drip from my eyes. “I worry about all of you. Constantly.” I turn to Jude. “And I don’t know why. I don’t know why my brain decided you were something special because you’re a liar. You didn’t smoke anything, did you?”
“Ri, I swear to God I was high out of my mind. It’s why I didn’t realize I was sitting in a bunch of poison ivy while I was smoking. When I stood up it got all on my hands, then I rubbed my face and…” He shrugs. “I was embarrassed.”
I cross my arms. “Why don’t you tell us both how Deja got your brush?”
Realization spreads across Malcolm’s face. “You have a brush with a cartoon cat on it?”
“Yes,” I answer for him. “I know because I gave it to him. Need fulfillment. The only need of his I ever clearly heard. The first night we met.”
“I had it in my pocket. Leaned against a brick wall and it snapped in half. Probably would have cracked my phone screen if it weren’t in there, so … thanks. Deja snatched the half I pulled out to touch up her edges.”
“Where’s the rest of it?”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the other half of the brush, palm sweaty. “I know how it looks.”
“It don’t look like nothing,” Malcolm says. “It’s not weird to let your friend borrow your brush and I’m sure a doctor can confirm you’ve got poison ivy.”
“If that’s the truth, it’d look a mess of a lot better if you explain it all to the police before they have to ask,” I say.
“What if they don’t believe me?” He looks like he might puke.
I want to tell him he has nothing to fear if he has nothing to hide, but Black boys, even Spanish speaking light-skinned ones like Jude, even in the city of Atlanta with a bunch of Black cops, are smart to be wary of the police.
“What if they don’t believe me?” he asks again, more urgently. “You don’t even believe me!”
I press my thumb and index finger to my forehead and close my eyes, exhale deeply. “I do believe you, Jude, and we’ll be there to support you.” I feel bad for getting him worked up, but I don’t apologize. I truly don’t think he had anything to do with whatever has happened to Deja, but I have a good sense for when people are keeping things from me and he is lighting it up. And if I’m honest, Malcolm is, too. But he has an excuse. As her best friend in the entire world, Tessa’s disappearance crushed me. But Malcolm shared a womb with her. There are layers to his hurt I’ll never be able to access. This situation is both devastating and triggering.
“Jude, let’s take your car and go down to the station right now,” I say. “Your mom is probably already there. You should talk through it with her before we go in.” I turn to Malcolm. “We’ll meet you and your mom there, okay? We can work on the posters as soon as we get back.”