Needy Little Things(33)
She lets out a long breath and drags the toe of her shoe across the mulch. “I’m going to drop the charges. I’m not sure I completely buy Danny’s version of things, but I know the Irvine family. They’re decent people. Maybe Danny already got his just deserts.”
I study her, wondering what the heck Danny’s family has to do with what happened that night. Wondering if she would have awarded that get-out-of-jail-free card to anyone from a decent family. Wondering what even makes a family decent.
She pushes her sunglasses up on her head and looks me in the eye for a few brutal seconds. “You said I dropped that nail file that day. That wasn’t true.”
I stare back at her, expressionless, unsure of where she means to take this. Is she thankful? Upset? Her face gives nothing away.
“Everything about that night was a little strange. Don’t you think?” She turns her gaze back to the playground. “And everything since.” She tugs the dog’s leash. “C’mon on, Julia.”
The dog saunters over.
“Take care, Sariyah.”
* * *
Jojo darts straight for the flamingos when we enter the zoo.
“Look!” He stretches his index finger over the fencing. “That one is young. Know how I know?”
I do, but decide to let him have the joy of telling me. “How?”
“Cause its head isn’t pink yet. The chicks are light gray. It can take a couple of years for them to get like those over there.” He points at a cluster of older flamingos. “Their color is from all the brine shrimp and algae they eat!”
A zoo worker in a visor, navy polo, and khaki shorts joins us, along with her need for a bobby pin. Her name tag says TARA. “You know, that animal knowledge could get you a pretty cool job when you grow up.”
“I know.” Josiah beams. “I want to be a herpetologist.”
“Oh, really? You should talk to your parents about signing up for our Young Zookeeper and Conservationist Summer Program!”
Jojo looks at me, eyes the size of dinner plates, obnoxiously long lashes fluttering. “Can I sign up?” he asks, but his face quickly falls, like he just realized I’m not Mama. He looks back at Tara. “My mom isn’t here.”
“That’s okay. Registration is open all week!” She looks up at me and smiles. “We have brochures in the gift shop.”
I hand Tara a bobby pin and one of Deja’s flyers as Josiah pulls me to the shop. He shoves one of every available brochure into Santa Bag, then drags me out again, rambling excitedly about fossas, warthogs, and diamondback terrapins. I feel bad for being resistant to bringing him here. The zoo is to him what Afro Alt was to Malcolm and Deja. He is so full of glee and excitement, it’s near impossible for me to feel anything else. Unfortunately, near isn’t quite good enough and the weight of everything I’m ignoring right now follows us like an angry, attention-demanding storm cloud. And I know once I look back at it, it’ll rain. And it won’t stop.
So I don’t look back. I let my brother tug me all around the zoo, fulfilling needs and passing out Deja’s flyers the whole time. We work up a good appetite and gorge ourselves on mediocre, overpriced pizza and ice-cold sodas before setting off to look at more animals. Jojo runs up to the fence to get a better look at the gorillas and I take a rest on a bench. I find the brochure for summer programs and flip through it. Jojo would eat this up, but it’s four hundred dollars for one week, due this Sunday. Mama would never go for that. Especially not right now. I have some money saved from Sweet Pea’s and birthdays and holidays over the years. I’d gladly drop four hundred on this for Josiah. Finding out he gets to go might be enough to keep him from noticing how much Mama and I are spiraling. But I can’t access my money. My checking account is shared with Mama and she transfers most of what I earn directly to a savings account I can’t touch until I’m eighteen—and that was at my request. I have some cash hidden in my room, but it’s barely a third of what I need. I tuck the brochure back in Santa Bag and hope my brother will forget about camp.
I lean back and roll out my ankles. It’s hot and I should have worn more comfortable shoes. A man in a pair of well-loved Grill Master 3000s walks by and, as unattractive as the brown leather sandal and crew socks combo is, all the middle-aged Black uncles in America must be on to something. A young couple, no more shoe wise than me, takes a kissing selfie together in front of a gorilla statue. I do a double take as they pull away from each other.
Deja.
I jump up from my seat and realize my mistake almost immediately. The girl looks so much like Deja. But it’s not her. She’s too tall, and her hair isn’t the same, but the resemblance is uncanny. I wonder if she’s noticed it. I wonder if she’s seen Deja’s picture on the news. If she gasped and thought how easily it could have been her. She catches me staring, my eyes flooded with unshed tears, and raises her eyebrows. I quickly look away and go find Josiah.
CHAPTER 14
It’s an hour and a half until I’m supposed to meet Jude and Malcolm for dinner. Just enough time for me to swing by Philly’s. The bus drops me off in front of Hyde Park again, but this time I don’t linger long enough to be assaulted by memories. This trip serves one purpose, and it’s to set my mind at ease by glimpsing that damn dog. The last vestiges of daylight disappear in the short time it takes to reach his street. The only light coming from the house flickers and I assume it’s Philly in his living room watching TV. I trot over to the side of the house, crouching a bit, for sure looking like I’m up to no good. I straighten and slow down because I’m not doing anything wrong. He said I was welcome whenever. But people like me have been shot dead for walking around their own property, let alone some white dude’s.