Needy Little Things(27)

Not the park. Danny’s brother’s house.

Jude

What the hell are you doing there??

Are you by yourself?

Is that where you wanted me to drive you yesterday?



Question one, two, and three of twenty-one.

Jude

Never mind. On my way.



I thumbs-up his last message. If something goes sideways, my getaway vehicle is en route.

I maneuver my way up the front steps, dodging foot-sized holes, and ring the doorbell. There’s no sound, so I rap a few times on the metal bit of the screen door. No one answers after a few seconds, so I do it again. This time, a grumpy voice responds from deep inside the long, skinny home.

“Who’s that?”

“Um. Hi, Phillip,” I holler through the door. “It’s me, Sariyah. Your brother Danny said you wanted me to come by.”

There’s some rustling, then a shadowy figure appears in the hall.

Air horn. Air horn. Air horn.

He leans heavily on a cane, looking more like Danny’s father than his little brother, even though he can’t be older than fifty. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” He unlocks the door and pushes it open. “Come on in. Come on in. And call me Philly. I’m back here in the kitchen having a sandwich. You want something?”

A roach scurries across my path looking a little too brave and familiar with the place. “No, thank you.” How an air horn could be more useful to him than bug spray, I don’t know. I’ll leave him some anyway.

He leads me down the hall. A dusty box fan sits wedged in the kitchen window, but it does little to cool the place. The heat is stifling even though it’s still early. He pulls out a rickety kitchen chair for me. “Go on and have a seat. Make yourself at home.” A cigarette sits in the tab of a Coke can, almost burned to the butt. He picks it up and takes a final draw before sinking his teeth into what looks like an egg salad sandwich. Watching him eat it in the hot, cramped, buggy space makes me queasy.

“I’m sorry about what happened to Danny,” I say, once I get control of my stomach contents.

He looks up at me, a glob of sleep still stuck in the corner of his eye. “Why would you be sorry?”

If Danny didn’t choose to tell him the details of my involvement, I don’t feel comfortable doing it, either. “I mean, it’s really unfortunate. He said it was all a misunderstanding.”

“Of course it was! Danny wouldn’t hurt nobody. You come all the way over here to say that?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.” He grins and eyes Santa Bag nestled in my lap. “Let’s get to it.”

I scowl at him and he checks himself.

“My bad, my bad. But like I’ve always said, I’m happy to pay ya. You can make good money off this. I can help you make good money off this.”

No, this man is not sitting here trying to pimp out my ability. Gnats always take it this direction. Malcolm, too. And I’m tired of it. I get up to leave.

“Wait a minute. Where you going? You can’t take a little joke? Come on.” He adjusts his tone. More apologetic now. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I just want to show my appreciation. That’s the real reason I wanted to see you.”

I twist my lips, skeptical.

“I’m serious. You been nothing but kind to me when you didn’t have to be. And the stuff you’ve given me, I could tell story after story about what they’ve meant to me. Messes they help me avoid. Not sure I ever said thank you.”

“You don’t need to do that, Philly.” It makes me uncomfortable when people talk about what I do like it’s a completely selfless and random act of kindness.

“I figured you wouldn’t take money, so I was thinking about what I could do,” he says like he didn’t even hear me. “Then I remembered how you mentioned school wasn’t your thing. What plans you got after graduation?”

I shrug. “I’m just trying to make it to graduation first.”

He chuckles. “You know, before this rheumatoid arthritis of mine started acting up, I was an electrician. Can make a solid living for yourself if you learn a trade. I’ve made a whole bunch of connections over the years and I’d be well honored to help you out if you think you might want to go that direction.”

Trade school actually is something I’ve been considering on and off, but I’ve been nervous to bring it up to my parents. I know how much Mama wants me to get a degree.

“Ain’t gotta take me up on it right now,” Philly says. “Just putting it out there. You think on it and let me know. Or if you think of some other way I can help you, alls you need to do is ask.”

I take a few steps back in his direction. The floorboards are loose and creaky under my feet. “Well, I did have a question for you.”

“Oh?” Intrigue adds a little youthfulness to his voice.

“Have you heard about that missing girl on TV?”

His demeanor shifts hard toward annoyance and he hacks out a few wet coughs. “I hear about a lot of missing girls on TV. This world got problems, and I tell you what, it all started with the invention of that doggone internet.”

“The world’s problems started with the internet?” I ask, deadpan.

“You heard me. Won’t ever find me paying for that mess. Gives you cancer and they use it to spy on folks.” He clears some phlegm from his throat, grimaces. “Not that I got anything to hide.”