Blue Sky

by D. Bryant Simmons

  Mama smiled, tilting her head to one side as she said, “I reckon that won’t be a problem because you can be downright convincing when you wanna be.”

  As I climbed the stairs to my sister’s bedroom, my brain ran through all possible ideas and strategies. Nothing seemed likely to work. I was a naturally persuasive person, so I’d just have to rely on my instincts. I knocked sweetly and waited for Mya’s raspy alto on the other side. I was about to knock again when I heard the sounds of mischief behind me. Instinctively, I understood. The frustration had been a new sensation but was working its way around to being common place. Little sisters. Natalie was a doll. She did a poor job of preparing us for what was to come. I crossed the hall, pushed in the door to my bedroom, and smothered the impulse to scream my head off at the sight of all my makeup and hair products strewn across my bed.

  My closet door muffled the giggles. They shushed each other, still having as much fun as when they started. Five girls living under the same roof would be trying for the most patient person, which I was not. Especially when plagued by two devilish three year olds.

  I yanked open the closet door. “Get out of my clothes! My stuff! My Room!”

  The twins darted around me, running full speed into the hallway. Wasn’t the first time I’d caught them playing with my caboodle and wouldn’t be the last. Heziah said that they only did it because they looked up to me, that imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, but I found it annoying, and it ruined my mood. Being convincing didn’t happen magically. I had to be in the right mindset. I needed to focus. My intention was to approach Mya in a blasé fashion, but even I wasn’t that good of an actress, so I decided to use my frustration to my advantage.

  “Ugh, do you believe them?” I invited myself into her tiny bedroom and flopped down on her bed.

  Mya was the only one of us that was fair-skinned. The rest of us were some shade of brown with a little cocoa or honey sprinkled in, but Mya’s fair skin appeared even fairer contrasting with her midnight waves. They were woven into a regal braid and adorned by a purple scrunchie at the base of her neck. Her knees pulled up to meet her chest, as she sat at the head of her bed with her nose buried in a book.

  “How come they never get into your stuff? I never see them dressing up in your clothes. It’s not fair.”

  Mya shrugged and turned a page. “My clothes aren’t that interesting.”

  “Whatcha reading?”

  “A book.”

  “Yeah, I see that. What’s it about? Is it good?”

  “I wouldn’t be reading it if it wasn’t good.”

  I nodded. That made sense, and Mya was nothing if not logical. Her attention turned to the page on the right, and I glanced at my watch.

  “So…whatcha doing? Got plans for tonight?”

  “Why?” She asked without altering her gaze.

  “I gotta get outta this house. I’m so sick of…you know…stuff. Don’t you ever wanna get out and have some fun?”

  She answered my question with the turn of yet another page.

  Mya was the star of the girls’ track team. She was obsessed with the Black Panthers and spent every minute she wasn’t running reading biographies of the more prominent members. Our ideas of fun couldn’t have been more different.

  “Mya. You should come with me. It’ll be fun.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Don’t you wanna know where I’m going? It’s a little get-together….Food. Some music. And probably a little dancing.”

  She finally lowered the book enough to look me in the eye. “You mean a party. Not interested.”

  “Nope, not a party. It’s a get-together.”

  “Still not interested.”

  “Aww, come on. I wanna hang out with my sister. We don’t spend enough time together.”

  Her brow furrowed with wrinkles. She laid the book face down on her bed and shifted her legs until she was sitting Indian style. When we were younger, Mya and I had been inseparable, but that was BFC, before foster care. I’d missed her. I truly did. I’d just never said it aloud until then.

  “So, what do you say? You gonna come with me?”

  “We could hang out here…”

  “With Miss Holier-than-Thou downstairs and the twin devils running around? No, thank you. Come on, let’s go. Just you and me.” She was still resisting, so I dug deeper. “Folks are gonna think you’re antisocial.”

  “Maybe I am.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re funny and nice and gorgeous. Come with me. I’ll…I’ll do your chores for a week.”

  Mya’s eyes sparkled. “A month.”

  “Three weeks. That’s it. So, what’s it gonna be?”

  Amazing how nothing had changed. Jackie still thought rules applied to everybody except her. The world wouldn’t function properly without structure and rules. Too bad Mama didn’t realize that. Jackie would get away with murder if Mama had her way. So, it was up to me to do the dirty work.

  “I wonder what she said to Mya to convince her to go. Most likely sold her a pack of lies. She’s a pathological liar.”

  “What’s pathological?” Natalie asked with a mouth full of biscuits and gravy.

  Mama sighed, gazing wistfully at the two empty seats on the other side of the dining table.

  “Means she lies practically on reflex. Probably isn’t even aware she’s doing it. That’s what happens when a person doesn’t have a conscience.”

  “Nikki…,” Mama warned.

  “Don’t you think you’re being a little hard on her?” Heziah’s features became stiff. He saw things clearer than Mama, but they both lived in la-la land when it came to Jackie.

  “I hope she doesn’t start to rub off on Mya. Although Mya isn’t the easiest person to influence,” I said as I claimed a second helping of green peas. “Isn’t that why you wanted her to take Mya? At least Mya doesn’t run from one compromising situation to another.”

  “Let’s change the subject. Something more fitting for supper talk.” Mama gave Nat a gentle nudge. “Baby, how was school?”

  When Natalie was little, I used to pretend like she was my baby. Even though she was the baby of the family for a while, folks never treated her like that. Not the way they treat the twins. Daddy never paid her any attention whatsoever. He doted on Mya the way Mama doted on Jackie. So, it was up to me to dote on Natalie.

  Even at nine years old, her scant frame reminded me of the girlish figures on the covers of magazines. Her dark-brown skin glistened in the dim light of the dining room as she recounted her day. She’d spent the last few years at Jackie’s side since they’d been placed in the same foster home, but Natalie didn’t share Jackie’s moral challenges, making her the perfect sounding board for my suspicions. After supper I helped her clear the table and wash the dishes.

  “How come you don’t live with us?”

  I can’t deny the question startled me. I spent as much time as I could with them, but I also juggled church, school, and Darlene and the reverend. Couldn’t help being pulled in all sorts of directions.

  “Nikki?”

  “My school is closer to my other house. You know that.” Mama and Heziah had agreed I might as well graduate with my class instead of transferring to a new high school halfway through my last year.

  Nat smiled sadly. She was the only one of my sisters who even felt my absence.

  “So, what do you think Jackie and Mya are doing right now?”

  Nat shrugged then added, “Probably dancing. That’s what you do at parties, right?”

  I could only imagine.

  “What’s it like? Your other house? Are they nice?” With a twist of her wrist, she turned the faucet off and began the task of putting the dishes I’d already dried in the cabinets. “Jackie says they brainwashed you with all that religious stuff.” She grinned, ready to burst into giggles.

  I didn’t have a ready-made reply, so I focused on the task in front of me instead.

  “Jackie says they got you so uptight, y
ou wouldn’t know fun if it bit you on the behind.”

  My smile gave her permission to let loose a giggle or two. She didn’t mean any harm. So, I smiled for her benefit rather than out of any amusement.

  “Jackie go to a lot of parties before you guys moved back home?”

  “Oh yeah.” Nat said. “All the time. Like every weekend.”

  Right about then the twins came sliding down the stairs. First Callie, then Jenna. I glanced up just in time to see Jenna holding a miniature spiral notebook with pink hearts on its cover. She froze as our eyes connected. Guilt plastered across her face.

  Natalie turned, following my gaze, and said, “Hey, that’s Jackie’s diary.”

  It wasn’t accompanied by a lock or a key. If it weren’t for Natalie, I wouldn’t have known what I was looking at, but the twins were totally clear on what they had. Jenna squeezed the squarish notebook to her chest and looked to Callie for help.

  “Give it.” Nerves made my voice seem snappish, but I meant it as a polite request. I crossed the kitchen and was more or less in the hallway. Snapped my fingers impatiently and reiterated the order. “Hand it over.”

  Curiosity bristled through the house party, sparking whispered conversations and wayward glances in my direction. I might as well have been the eighth wonder of the world, and I decided Nash Johnson was going to be the one to solve my mystery. He’d been huddled in a dark corner with his friends since I descended the stairs into Gina’s basement. Never took his eyes off me. His sly grin eased across his face as I danced with one guy after another.

  My current dance partner, Michael Duncan, was an average sort of guy. When he asked, I said yes, planning to dance with him for no more than two songs.

  “What’s up with your sister? She holding up the wall or what?”

  Mya hadn’t moved an inch since we arrived. She spent the first ten minutes looking incredibly bored, and then she whipped out a book. Didn’t matter to her the basement didn’t have proficient lighting.

  “She’s saving her energy for later.”

  Michael’s crush on me was hardly a secret. Still, I pretended not to notice since it gave me no pleasure to break people’s hearts. Nice guys like Mike were better off with somebody like Nikki. Somebody easy and predictable, who only wanted to be of use, that’s who he should’ve been crushing on. Not me.

  “You not tired?” he asked after the song ended. We’d been dancing for a good ten minutes.

  “Nope,” I replied, keeping both eyes glued to Nash and his circle of friends. He removed a silver flask from his pocket. The contents of which flowed quickly into their cups of Kool-Aid, and I was as parched as a rose wilting under the desert sun.

  “Thirsty?”

  “You read my mind.”

  “I’ll get you a drink.” Mike headed toward the refreshment table, probably thanking his lucky stars for the brief reprieve from dancing.

  I took the opportunity to move closer to my objective. He saw me coming, and the grin he used to reel me in disappeared. Instead, he offered me a sip from his cup.

  “What is it?”

  “The good stuff.”

  Chatter among his friends stopped as all eyes fixed on me. They were about to get their first lesson in the ways of Jacqueline Morrow. I never backed down from a challenge. The plastic cup became flimsy in my grasp as I took my first sip, then another, and before long there was only a drop left.

  Nash tossed the cup into the nearest trash and took me by the hand. I used my other one to wipe the last drops from my lips, and that small gesture sent my world into a sort of free fall. Didn’t matter to him. In a matter of seconds, he wrapped me up in his arms, and we danced to the scent of his cologne.

  “Want some more?” His voice hovered outside my left ear.

  “Sure.”

  “I got some in my coat.” He nodded to the small room twenty feet away where everyone piled their coats. “Come on.”

  I made my steps small and deliberate. No stranger to drunks, I’d seen all possible variations—stumbling left and right, slurring their words. I wasn’t about to be one of them. Nobody and nothing would take control of my body.

  A door closed behind me as I sunk into the pile of coats. My brain fought fiercely to keep my torso upright, but after a few seconds, it slacked off. I began wondering what kind of liquor he’d given me.

  “Here it is,” Nash said, sticking a clear bottle, whose label I couldn’t read, under my nose. “You wanna drink it slow this time.”

  “I know that.”

  We took turns nursing the bottle until the party on the other side of the door melted away and only the room filled with coats existed. He asked me if I ever drank before. I nodded and delighted in the movement that made me feel as if my head had come unscrewed. Next came the giggles. From me. I was sure they belonged to me like it was a fact I’d memorized for a test, but I couldn’t recall the moment the giggles actually began or what brought them on. They got louder as his fingers explored my body.

  Next thing I knew, my sister stood over me saying, “Get up. Come on. Get up.”

  “We’re having fun. Ain’t that right?” Nash protested.

  “Get off my sister.” Mya’s no-nonsense tone grew irritated, and the next moment, Nash moaned in pain.

  “You’re not reading,” I smiled, pointing at her.

  I stumbled left and right, hanging on her like a wet rag, but Mya kept a steady pace. No wheezing or labored breathing either. Through the crowd and up the stairs, she carried me until I felt the cool night air on my face.

  “D-Don’t tell…okay?”

  She didn’t utter a sound. The only evidence she bothered to listen to me at all was how her grip on me tightened.

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  Mya stopped in the middle of the block and withdrew her support, watching me sway side to side in the sobering breeze. “I saw you.”

  “We talked. We were talking. I couldn’t hear him, so he had to—”

  “Get on top of you?”

  “Lean over. To whisper in my ear.”

  “You don’t even know him.” The irritation in her voice bubbled up to the surface until it was all over her perfect face. Like everyone else, I was in awe of my sister, who was neither stupid nor naive. She made a terrible teenager. Always doing the right thing.

  “He has a girlfriend.”

  “Who?” The giggles were back.

  She rolled her eyes and resumed the task of directing my wayward feet.

  “Sing with me, Mya.” My body was ripe with the melody of a song I couldn’t remember the lyrics to, so I gazed up at the stars asking them for some guidance. “Answer me! They won’t tell me. Make them tell me, Mya.”

  “I’m never going to a party with you ever again. Stop laughing.”

  “They’re late.” Heziah paced back and forth in front of our bedroom door. He’d refused to put on his pajamas and was still fully dressed down to his shoes.

  “I’m sure they okay. Having a good time. Come on and relax.”

  “I’ll relax when I know they’re home safe and sound. What time did they leave?”

  “Few minutes before supper,” I said, easing off the bed to put my hands on his shoulders.

  “Belinda, I got a bad feeling. You told them to be back by eleven, right?”

  “No…not exactly.”

  “What time did you tell them?”

  “I didn’t tell them anything other than to have fun and be safe.”

  Heziah sighed and continued his pacing. “Did you get the address where this party is gonna be or the phone number? You didn’t, did you?”

  “I trust my girls.”

  “They’re teenagers. You can only trust them so far—” Heziah stood still, his ears perking up at the slightest sound.

  A chill ran through me, and I wrapped the light blue robe tighter across my front. The polyester blew easily at the slightest wind. Normally, I only wore it in the summer months, but that week had been really warm for Ma
rch. I wasn’t expecting the sudden chill that came on that night.

  “Heziah, where you going?” I followed him out into the hall and down the stairs. He must’ve heard the front door opening and closing ‘cause they stood in the foyer. Jackie shivered, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, but Mya seemed unfazed. She stood two or three inches taller than Jackie. When did that happen?

  “Sorry we’re late.”

  “That’s okay, baby. Did you have fun?”

  Mya nodded but without any trace of fun on her face. Jackie opened her mouth to say something, but a look from Mya stopped her in her tracks.

  “Well, you girls know you’re supposed to be home by eleven. Your mama and I were worried.”

  “I said sorry,” Mya snapped, then turned to me and said, “Can we go to bed now?”

  “Yeah, baby, go ahead.”

  It wasn’t what Heziah wanted me to say, but I ain’t see no need in harping on the time. They got the point. And we all needed to be in bed.

  It’d been more than three years since we got married, and I was almost past expecting Heziah to react like Ricky did. I followed behind him a few steps and closed our bedroom door gently so as not to provoke the wild man I was expecting.

  “You mad at me?”

  Heziah yanked back the covers and flopped down on his side of the bed, kicking off his tired old loafers. He needed new ones, but last month he’d spent sixty dollars buying Nat and the twins winter coats.

  “I’m not mad.”

  “Yeah, you are.”

  He stood to step out of his pants and took his time hanging them up in the closet. Everything in his half of the closet was organized by color and season. Heziah spent so much time taking care of his stuff that you’d think it was expensive.

  “I can take it if you mad. You can say.”

  “That why you leaning on the door? Afraid to come in the room? To come near me?”

  “I ain’t. I was…I was just pausing.”

  He sighed and finally turned toward me. The heaviness in his eyes scared me in a whole new kinda way. We’d finally gotten what we wanted. Had each other and our girls. But Heziah was looking at me like it was getting to be more than he bargained for.