The prayer goes on and on like that. I count the times he says Jesus, twelve. I count the times he says mercy, six. I count the times he pauses before mentioning Momma, nineteen. By the end of the prayer I’m bored and he’s crying.
* * *
After church, we make dinner. It’s the first time we’ve made dinner all together since arriving in Lansing. Granddaddy makes fried chicken legs and corn bread. Nia makes macaroni and cheese, just like Momma. Granddaddy lets me help him mash the potatoes in a big, heavy bowl. I even get to pull the corn bread out from the oven when it’s done. For dessert, we have an apple pie that none of us made. It came from one of the ladies at church, the one with the biggest hat and the dripping, fake smile.
We eat at the table together but don’t talk. For once, I don’t watch Granddaddy and Nia. Instead, I stare at the Bible sittin’ cross the room on the little ledge by the door, where Granddaddy left it after church. I think bout Granddaddy’s prayer and bout Momma and secrets, then I think bout Bible study with Charlie and that verse that got me searching for bottles that I never found. I twirl my fork in my hand as I think and think.
“Can I get more?” Nia asks, pointing at the pan of corn bread. Granddaddy nods and says, “Of course, anything for my girls,” and it reminds me of goin’ to the mall and Granddaddy giving us all that money and buying me my favorite dress. All these different thoughts swirl around in my head, til all of a sudden, they fit together into one clear plan. The last plan I’m gon’ need here in Lansing, to get us back home to Momma.
“You like your dinner?” Granddaddy asks, and I realize I been sittin’ here not eating. I take a bite, quick, and nod.
“It’s perfect,” I reply, and it is. Instead of tryna find money, I’m gon’ get Granddaddy to give us the money we need to be together again. Even with Momma at the treatment facility, I bet we still gon’ need money for a new house. So, while Momma focuses on gettin’ better, I’m gon’ focus on fixin’ Momma and Granddaddy. Once I do that, he’s gon’ give her anything she needs to get her girls back.
I smile and chew, satisfied with my perfect plan. Granddaddy and Nia smile, too. Maybe they smiling just cause I smiled first, or maybe it’s cause they got a feeling already that I’m gon’ be the one to fix us all.
PART II
July 1995
5
On Granddaddy’s block of N. Rutherford St., there are only five houses. Two on Granddaddy’s side, three on the other. The other house on this side is at the end of the road, with rotting boards in the window instead of glass. Two of the houses cross the street are flat and small, with fields of green grass out front and porches that wrap around the house. Kinda like Granddaddy’s house, but not so old. That just leaves one more house cross the street. It’s the only tall house on the block, with a sloping roof and two stories that tower over the short, squat houses, directly between them like a giant conductor. The house is brown everywhere but red on the roof and door, with greener grass and cleaner windows than all the other houses. And a chimney that looks like it makes real smoke. This is the house where the white kids live.
Since that first time we played together—bout two weeks ago now—I ain’t had no chance to play with Bobby and Charlotte again. Either they momma be outside whenever they are, watching over ’em like they some babies, or Granddaddy and Nia be outside doin’ the same to me. But not today.
I watch, excited, as Granddaddy grabs his cane and his hat with the feather sticking straight up from the side. Hops in his Cadillac. And drives off after telling us he’s heading to the grocery store. This is the first time I’ve seen Granddaddy go to the grocery store in the three weeks since we’ve been in Lansing, so I don’t know how long it will take. But I bet it’s gon’ take a while, since Granddaddy’s so slow. Plus, the fridge is bout empty and only one frostbitten pack of meat is left in the very back of the freezer. And I heard Granddaddy say he gotta buy some extra special stuff for Fourth of July. I don’t know exactly what that means, cept tomorrow is a holiday and we need more food.
As soon as Granddaddy disappears around the corner, I run inside to check on Nia. I find her sittin’ in Granddaddy’s spot on the couch, watching Momma’s stories. The opening credits are still rolling, so that gives me at least an hour before Nia would come looking for me. Perfect.
I skip back to the room tryna look casual, then come back out holding my book in one hand and the little bag where I been keeping my rocks in the other. “I’m going outside to play!” I announce loudly, making sure Nia sees my book and rocks when she looks up, which I hope is gon’ make her think I’m bout to play alone.
“Okay,” Nia says, eyes still mostly glued to the TV screen. Before, it would’ve made me sad that Nia ain’t pay attention to me, or offer to come outside and play, too. But now I got my own friends. I don’t need Nia when I got Bobby and Charlotte.
I step out on the porch and look cross the street. The red front door is open, which usually means that Bobby and Charlotte are outside playing. I look around for they momma but don’t see her nowhere. Excited, I run closer to get a better look. I still don’t see Bobby or Charlotte, but then I hear Charlotte’s laugh. It sounds far away, but like it’s gettin’ closer and closer. Sure enough, Charlotte turns the corner and comes riding down the street in her wagon, with Bobby pulling her while riding roller skates. Looks like he might be new to the skates, cause he’s teetering and tottering, pulling Charlotte in wild zigzags down the sidewalk.
Once they get closer, I start to wave. Charlotte’s eyes light up bright when she sees me.
“KB!” Charlotte yells, causing Bobby to lose his balance. He falls down, landing flat on his butt. Then looks over at me and waves. I giggle and wave back, then stash the decoy book and rock collection behind a bush before crossing the street.
“Can you guys play?” I ask, once I’m standing on the sidewalk in front of them. Bobby grips the edge of the wagon to support his weight as he tries to stand up, but the wheels start moving again and he lands back on the sidewalk.
“Here,” I say, offering my hand, “you look like you need some help.” I try not to laugh, but as Bobby struggles to his feet, a small snort escapes from my nose. Charlotte hears it and starts laughing, too. Soon, all three of us are laughing so hard that we end up in a heap beside Bobby.
“Like my new skates?” Bobby finally asks once all the laughing stops, but that makes us laugh again.
“Yeah,” I manage to answer, “too bad they ain’t come with lessons!” We all laugh some more, then Bobby unties his laces and begins taking off the skates.
“Yeah, yeah,” Bobby replies, rolling his eyes. “Y’all are laughing, but I bet you couldn’t do any better!”
I stay quiet, cause I know he’s right. At least bout me. I ain’t ever tried to skate, and I bet if I tried now, it would be an even bigger disaster than Bobby’s.
“I bet I can!” Charlotte responds, always eager for a fight with her brother. Before they can get into it too far, I jump in.
“Hey, where did you guys just come from? Around the corner?” I point to the end of the street, where there ain’t nothin’ but green as far as I can see.