“And I thought this day couldn’t get any crazier,” he said.
“You called her a she. But she still has a…” Ike said. He let the statement hang in the air.
“She is presenting as a woman. She seems to be living as a woman. So she is a woman,” Mya said.
“They teach you all about that at the hospital?” Buddy Lee asked.
“Some of it, yeah. Most of it is just being respectful of people and accepting them for who they are,” Mya said. Ike felt her gaze boring a hole in him like she was wielding an earth auger. No one spoke for a moment. Mya scooped up Arianna and let her lay her head on her shoulder.
“She pretty,” Arianna said.
“Hmm?” Mya said.
“She pretty,” Arianna said. Mya turned and saw Tangerine giving Arianna a weak wave. Arianna waved back.
“I guess we should go back to my sister’s,” Mya said.
“No. Not yet,” Ike said.
“What you mean ‘not yet’？ You the one told us to leave,” Mya said.
“Yeah, I know. Now I’m thinking I don’t want you on the road alone. I’m gonna take Tangerine to a place she’ll be safe. Y’all stay here and wait for me until I get back. Then I can drive you to your sister’s and Buddy Lee can follow us,” Ike said.
“Where you taking her?” Buddy Lee said.
“No place you need to know about. If you don’t know, you can’t tell,” Ike said.
“I wouldn’t tell, Ike,” Buddy Lee said. He sounded affronted.
“I know you wouldn’t want to, but if them boys catch you, they gonna push hard. This way you can’t,” Ike said. Buddy Lee went to scratch at his chin and stopped.
“That’s why her friend so hot to put her in the ground,” Buddy Lee said.
“It ain’t just about him having a girlfriend who knows some shit about him. It’s about who she is,” Ike said.
“You think Tariq knows, too? That why he put his boys on us like that?” Buddy Lee said.
“Makes sense. Hardcore hip-hop producer don’t want nobody to know he on the down-low,” Ike said.
“I’m not gay,” a weak voice said from the kitchen. Ike and Buddy Lee shared a look that was becoming their shorthand. Ike stood and went into the kitchen. Tangerine was sitting on the edge of the table. Mya had fashioned her a sling out of one of Buddy Lee’s bedsheets. Her hair was stuck to her face. She had a beach towel with the words ATLANTIC CITY silk-screened on it wrapped around her like a toga.
“You’re not?” Buddy Lee said.
“No, I’m not, Gomer Pyle,” Tangerine said.
“I’m so confused,” Buddy Lee said. He leaned back against the couch. Ike went and stood in front of Tangerine.
“We gotta get you somewhere safe,” Ike said.
“I was somewhere safe. I was safe and my mama was alive,” she said.
“They were gonna find you eventually,” Ike said.
“You don’t fucking know that,” Tangerine said.
“Yes, I do. Because your boy, whoever he is, he don’t want nobody to ever find out he was with somebody who was…” Ike stopped himself. He was still making bad decisions. Still saying the wrong things.
“Say it. I’ve heard it before. Somebody like me. Even my mama used to call me a fucking freak. She wouldn’t call me Tangerine. Said she named me after my daddy. That was his name and I should be proud to have it, and now she’s dead and she’ll never be able to call me by my real name,” Tangerine said. She began to weep. Great racking sobs that made Ike’s chest hurt. He went to her, and before he knew what he was doing, he tried to put his arms around her. She pushed him away. Ike stepped back with his arms awkwardly open.
“Tell us his name, sis. Let us put an end to this thing,” Buddy Lee said.
“You don’t fucking get it. We loved each other. He’s not in control of this. I’m not saying he’s not involved, but he’s not the one doing this,” Tangerine said. Her cheeks glistened as her tears soaked her face.
“Tell us,” Buddy Lee said as gently as could.
“He killed our sons. He sent people to kill you. They took your mama from you. Tell us, Tangerine,” Ike said. He put his hand on her shoulder, but in his mind he was touching Isiah. She wasn’t his son. But he felt like through her he could glean an inkling of the pain and misery and sense of unfairness that he could never experience, that people who lived under an umbrella made of a panoply of letters knew intimately. How many times had Isiah cried the way Tangerine was crying right now? Wept until he found the strength to live as he was meant to live. As a man who was so much more than who he slept with? Who had a father who refused to see him as anything more than a disappointment?