“Oh, my God. Jasmine.” Her listless eyes didn’t respond. “You’re in the hospital. It’s me, Mitch. I’ll be right back. I have to let the nurse know you’re awake.”
He froze when he entered the hallway. The spiked-hair One-Niner and two other gangbangers crowded the nurse’s station. They all turned, glaring when he rushed at them.
“What the fuck you pieces of shit doing here?”
The spiked-hair banger stepped forward. “Here to see Jasmine.”
“Stay away from her.”
Spiked Hair’s eyes narrowed. “You the one turn DeAndre in. Best hope he don’t find you.”
“I’m not the one running.”
The other two sneered while Mitch and Spiked Hair measured each other.
“You gentlemen need to leave now,” the nurse at the desk said, her voice cracking. “Only immediate family is allowed to visit.”
Spiked Hair continued glaring at Mitch. “He ain’t family.”
Mitch grabbed the front of the banger’s shirt. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“Doctor Brown to BICU STAT. Doctor Brown to BICU STAT,” echoed through the hallway as the nurse shouted into the intercom mic.
The banger studied Mitch’s fist. “We ain’t done.” He pushed Mitch’s hand away. “Next time, cracker.”
“Yeah? Next time it won’t be a car that gets shot up,” Mitch said.
The man’s dead eyes flickered.
The nurse stared at Mitch, slack-jawed.
Mitch felt surprisingly calm.
A doctor was at Jasmine’s bedside when Mitch and the nurse rushed in. The tracheal tube had been removed.
“Pulse ox is holding,” the doctor said to the nurse. “Keep an eye on her airway.”
“What about brain function?” Mitch asked.
The doctor threw up his hands. “We’ve done all we can.”
Mitch spent the morning at Jasmine’s bedside. After running out of things to say, he called Nic to ask if she could get a copy of Jasmine’s favorite book from the library.
* * *
Nic read to Jasmine from A Tree Grows in Brooklyn when Mitch’s voice gave out. At lunchtime, they went to the cafeteria. Nic reached for Mitch’s hand across the tiny table. “Forgot how much I loved that book. Thanks for letting me read to her.”
“You’ve been great.” He forced a grin. “Things are just so messed up right now.”
“You ever get over Jen…” She kissed the back of his hand. “We better get back.”
Mitch spent the night listening to Jasmine’s soft breathing. In the morning he read to her some more. His throat was feeling better, but the burn on his neck throbbed. Later that afternoon, a serious lady in a dark blue business suit stepped into the room. She studied him. “Your picture in the paper didn’t do you justice.”
“You are?”
She reached out her hand. “Sarah Johnson. Social services. I’ve been assigned to Jasmine’s case. I’ll be in charge of her care until she’s transferred to a care center.”
“She’s not going to a nursing home.”
Sarah pulled her hand back. “The doctor said she’ll need special care.”
“She won’t need a nursing home.”
“Even if that were true she needs somewhere to go.”
Mitch stared at Jasmine. “What if I found a place for her?”
“It’d have to be to a licensed foster parent.”
“Bernice Jackson was a foster parent. She knows Jasmine. Where’s Alexus?”
“I got her an emergency placement.”
“They both have to be with Ms. Jackson.”
“I can’t promise anything. These things take time.”
“No.” Mitch pointed at her. “Tell your boss to make it work, or I’ll grant an interview with these reporters who’ve been hounding me and let them know Social Services is dropping the ball on these poor kids.”
“I’ll tell him.” She grinned. “Shame more kids in our system don’t have you fighting for them.”
* * *
Mitch spent the rest of the day and night at Jasmine’s bedside. He prayed to a God he didn’t believe in, making promises he wouldn’t keep. The next morning, he finished reading A Tree Grows in Brooklyn to her. After lunch, he was discharged from the hospital and paid Miss Bernie a visit.
The smell of cinnamon and chocolate filled the back stairwell to her flat. He heard something he hadn’t heard in a long time, Miss Bernie’s robust laugh. He knocked once and stepped inside. Miss Bernie and Alexus were at the small kitchen table with their hands in a large metal mixing bowl.
Alexus squealed, ran at him, and jumped into his arms. She grabbed his neck with her sticky hands. “We making chocat chip cookies. If you good you get some.” She kissed him on the cheek. He ignored the stinging pain from her small hands clutching his raw neck.
Thank you, God. I owe you.
He gave her a firm hug and put her down. “Better keep working or Miss Bernie will get after you.”
She went back to work rolling balls of dough, carefully spacing them onto the darkened aluminum cookie sheet. “See how you do this? Miss Bernie teach me.”
Miss Bernie didn’t look happy.
Mitch rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “When she get here?”
“That social worker drop her off early this morning. Said you put her up to it. That true?”
“She said it would take time. I wanted to ask before she came. If your back bothers you too much, I’ll tell her—”
“Hush now. Jasmine coming too?”
“If it’s okay.”
“Stop with that foolishness.”
“Anything I can do?”
“Pull those cookies out the oven and taste one.”
The soft, gooey mixture of butter, sugar, flour, cinnamon, and chocolate tasted like heaven.
Miss Bernie got Alexus chattering about school and flashed Mitch a knowing smile while Alexus told them about every kid in her class and all about her teacher and what they were learning.
After Alexus wound down and stuffed her mouth with warm cookies, Mitch asked Miss Bernie if any of her church friends had a cheap car for sale. She told him Odyssey School has an old van for sale. The superintendent is Brother Williams, the man who sang at Jamal’s funeral. Miss Bernie asked what happened to Mitch’s fancy truck. He told her it was sold to pay farm bills.
When he finished, she said, “Someday you’ll see all this you do, for these girls, for your family, for me, is all God’s work. Might not always go the way you think it should, but you doing His work, and you’ll be rewarded.”
Mitch had trouble buying into God’s plan. “Where’s the van?”
“At the school six blocks down. Don’t look like a school though. Used to be a grocery store. Has one of those curvy roofs. Tell Brother Williams I sent you.”
Mitch kissed the top of Alexus’s head. “Take care of Miss Bernie.”
“When Jasmine coming?”
“Soon, Lexi, soon.”
“Wish Momma could come too. That lady told me she gone away for a long time. And Maurice gone forever. He mean.”
Mitch stopped at the doorway and glimpsed back at the woman and child who were laughing at each other’s chocolate-smeared faces.
Chapter 36
In black letters, Odyssey Alternative School-All Are Welcome was printed on the double doors. Mitch stepped inside to an expansive room with groups of black children of all ages. Some sat in rows in front of green chalkboards while others sat in circles around an adult. Sheets of drywall and two-by-fours were stacked against a side wall. The children stared at him like he was an alien. He waved, not knowing what else to do.
An immense hand grasped him from behind. The man’s face had a mouth brimming with teeth that jutted out in a massive overbite, displaying most of his pink gum line, giving Brother Williams a perpetual smile. The large black man was wearing gray slacks and a black button-down shirt. His bald head glistened under the fluorescent lighting.
/> “What brings you to our modest school?” Brother Williams’ deep bass echoed off the tall ceiling.
“I’m a friend of Miss Bernie’s.”
“I know who you are, my brother. What can I do for you?”
“She said you had a van for sale.”
“Motor smokes bad. Brakes are shot. The wheelchair lift stopped working a long time ago.”
“I don’t have any cash right now.”
“Miss Bernie said you’re handy.” He pointed to the children scattered around the large open space. “Gets noisy in here. Makes it hard for the children to focus on their studies. If you can give us a hand putting up walls, the van’s yours.”
“I can’t right now. But, yeah, I can do that.”
“Excellent. Do these kids good to see a friendly white face. Stay by that girl as long as she needs you. Miss Bernie was right. You’re a good man. I can feel it.”
Before heading to the hospital, Mitch stopped by Miss Bernie’s house, driving the rusted white Chevy van with Odyssey School scrawled along its side in faded gray lettering. He told her how impressed he was with Brother Williams. She told him Brother Williams had been a One-Niner when he was a teenager. He got involved in a drug deal gone bad. A young man lost his life, and Brother Williams went away for ten years. He found Jesus in prison and has been working with kids ever since.
On the drive to the hospital, Mitch couldn’t stop thinking about Brother Williams. This man killed someone?
* * *
When he approached the nurses’ station, the chief nurse motioned for him. “It’s Jasmine.”
“Is she…?”
“She’s asking for you.”
He sprinted to the room, greeted by her glimmering green eyes. “Where—is—Lexus?” Jasmine said, her raspy voice barely above a whisper. She sat up. “Say something.”
“She’s fine,” Mitch said after the shock wore off.
Her words were slow and slurred. “I know that. Where is she?”
“With Miss Bernie.”
Jasmine relaxed back into her pillow. “What about Momma?”
Mitch grasped for the right words. “You’ll be staying with Miss Bernie.”
“Where is Momma? Tell me.” Her green eyes blazed.
Mitch gritted his teeth. “Your mom killed Maurice.”
“Good. He deserve killin’. Where is she?”
“They arrested her.”
“She done nothing wrong.” Her breathing quickened. The electronic monitor next to the bed beeped.
A nurse hurried to the bedside, checking the monitor. “Her pulse is racing. She’s due for morphine.”
Jasmine ran her hand over her neck. “Where’s my necklace?”
“Paramedics never saw it.”
Mitch pulled a glistening white gold necklace from his shirt pocket. He cradled the delicate necklace, displaying the gold pendant shaped like a tiny oak leaf. “I know this isn’t from your father, but I think he’d want you to have it.”
“That was all I had—from my daddy.” She sniffled and gave in to the morphine.
Mitch placed the necklace next to her.
* * *
Over the next week, Jasmine sank into silence. Her listless expression tore at Mitch. The burns were healing nicely, but the psychologist was having no luck. She told him Jasmine suffered from acute PTSD. Mitch remembered what the psychologist back in Milroy said to him about PTSD after Maggie’s death; that it’s like an injury to the brain. If left untreated, it can get worse. The patient needs strong family support, counseling, and sometimes anti-anxiety drugs.
After pleading with Jasmine’s physician and promising to follow his orders, Mitch was allowed to take her to Miss Bernie’s home. If anyone could lift Jasmine out of her funk, it would be Miss Bernie. On the drive, Jasmine stared into the distance. Covered in an early December blanket of sparkling snow, the Core appeared pristine.
The old van sputtered to a stop in front of Miss Bernie’s house. Mitch helped Jasmine down from the passenger seat. The burns on her back and thigh made it hard for her to walk. But it was the burn on her neck that devastated her. Mitch had seen her disgust when she looked into a mirror at the hospital.
Alexus dashed down the porch steps and laid her head against her big sister’s waist.
Miss Bernie shuffled down the steps with open arms. “Ain’t this the best Christmas present ever? Both these girls together again. C’mon now, let’s get inside before we all catch our death.” She steered them toward the house. “Alexus made a batch of cookies just for you.” Miss Bernie ushered the girls inside.
From down the street came a rumbling bass. Mitch stopped at the foot of the stairs. A faded green Buick Riviera stopped in front of the house. The window glided down, and Spiked Hair pointed a finger at him as if he were pulling a trigger. Mitch lifted his arms as if he were holding a rifle and pulled the imaginary trigger three times, once for each gangbanger in the ghetto cruiser. Spiked Hair gunned the old Buick and sped off.
The front room had Christmas lights looped along the ceiling and around the front window. Pine scent from the densely trimmed tree saturated the room.
Alexus led Jasmine to the tree. “Look what we done. Ain’t it just the best tree ever?”
Jasmine glanced at the star on top, then lowered her gaze to the floor. “You did real good, Lexi.”
“Why this make you sad?”
“Let’s eat some of those cookies you made, Alexus,” Miss Bernie said.
“Can I go to my room?” Jasmine asked.
“Surely can. I’ll bring some cookies along.” Miss Bernie showed her to her room.
Alexus’s lips quivered.
Mitch knelt and pulled her close. “It’s going to take a while before Jasmine is like she used to be. All we can do is love her and give her time. It’ll be hard, but hey, we’re the Eight Ohs.”
“Wish she was better now.”
“Me too, Lexi. Me too.”
* * *
In the morning Miss Bernie showed Mitch how to change Jasmine’s dressings while Jasmine watched in silence.
“Where’d you learn all that?” He asked after they left Jasmine’s room.
“Back in the day when I worked at the nursing home, we changing dressings all day long. Folks with the sugar diabetes would get those ulcers and terrible bedsores.”
Mitch pinched his lips together.
“So much misery,” Miss Bernie said. “Sometime it helped to just set with them. Show them someone care. We need to do that for Jasmine. Don’t push her, just give her time. We got to leave our sadness at the door.”
“I keep thinking if I would have been smarter none of this…”
Miss Bernie leveled her finger at him. “Stop that hurtful talk right now. This God’s answer to my prayers. And He worked through you. Don’t you see? You doing God’s work bringing those girls to me.” She pulled Mitch into her arms. “I’m so full of joy with them here.” She kissed his forehead.
Mitch headed to the Odyssey School on foot. The green Buick slowed and inched alongside him. “Hey, Snow White, you lost? C’mon in the car, we give you a ride.” Mitch nonchalantly flashed his middle finger at Spiked Hair. The others in the car whooped as they sped off.
The lead inspector on Jamal and LaMont’s murders had assured Mitch these assholes wouldn’t screw with him. The last time they raided their crack house, he warned them if they so much as spit at a firefighter, the trigger-happy tactical squad would be all over their asses and there’d be no arrests, just work for the coroner.
Mitch kept busy with the construction project at the school throughout the rest of December. He wasn’t allowed to return to work until the burns healed. Mitch taught the older children the proper use of power tools and how to square up a wall. After the first week, he allowed the kids to do most of the work while he supervised. Brother Williams used Firefighter Mitch as motivation for school work. Only students who completed their assignments were allowed to help him each day. By the se
cond week, all the older students were helping.
Mitch spent mornings taking care of chores for Miss Bernie. After Jasmine’s burn dressings were changed, he read to her from books Brother Williams sent over. She showed no interest, but Miss Bernie encouraged him to keep at it. Later, he’d visit Kyle, then head over to the school to work on the walls with the students.
He stopped by the firehouse on red-shift days to work with the Eight Ohs. When the kids left, he worked on the old van. The firehouse was equipped with lifts and a full assortment of mechanic’s tools.
A hot meal would be waiting for him when he got home. In the evening, the patchwork family settled in the front room to watch television, with Alexus snuggled next to her big sister on the couch. Mitch noticed how Jasmine’s hand always covered the burn on her neck, her thumb constantly rubbing where the necklace had hung for all those years. She never wore the necklace he gave her. He didn’t ask why.
Three times a week he took Jasmine to the hospital to see both a clinical psychologist and a physical therapist. Tears flowed down her face during physical therapy, but she never complained. The therapist had a puke bucket close at hand for the grueling sessions designed to keep the burn tissue from scarring and limiting motion. When Jasmine reached the point of retching, Mitch’s insides tensed along with hers. As hard as this was to watch, it was her sadness that crushed him
Chapter 37
Crowds of young people roamed Mayfair Mall, a popular mall located in Wauwatosa, a western suburb of Milwaukee. It was the last Sunday of winter break. Raucous shouting and laughter thundered through the tall corridors. Jasmine’s burns had healed enough for her to return to school on Monday. Miss Bernie and Mitch thought it would cheer her up to get some trendy new school clothes. And Alexus too.
They trekked from store to store with Alexus stuffing shopping bags with brightly colored child’s wear. Jasmine’s eyes flittered back and forth as they walked through the mall. Her hand never left the scar on her neck. When Miss Bernie asked if she liked something, Jasmine said, “I suppose.”
After no more than an hour, Jasmine asked, “Can we go now? I don’t feel good.”
When they got home, Jasmine dashed to her room, sobbing. Mitch followed but was stopped by Miss Bernie. “Let her cry. She need to get it out.”
Beneath the Flames Page 20