Blue Sky

by D. Bryant Simmons

  I started to say as much to Kem, but he’d already began to make his way to the stage. I say began because he got stopped by a table of giggling co-eds. A blonde. A brunette and a girl with pink streaks in her hair. I was thankfully out of earshot. It was a familiar scene. Kem and his inconsequential little bobbleheads. He would never allow himself to fall in love with one of them, and he didn’t call any of them his friends either.

  Clark and Jess took notice from the stage as they readied their instruments. They had briefly considered adding a second singer, but I put that idea to rest pretty quickly. Why would they need another girl when I was more than enough? Kem had just smiled at the floor when I said that. Clark and Jess howled into the night like two coyotes, but they didn’t disagree with me. They were both old enough to be my father and doted on me like I was a rambunctious puppy.

  The bartender was a thin and friendly looking guy with a well-groomed afro. He wore traditional bartender attire—clean white shirt, black tuxedo vest, and black pants. The warm hue cast from the squarish lanterns that mounted the surrounding walls made his teeth look dingy, but I assumed in the bright light of day, they looked white.

  “Want me to take your coat?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  He hadn’t taken his eyes off me since we walked through the door. He wrapped my raincoat into a ball and shoved it beneath the bar. Then offered me a drink.

  “It’s on the house,” he said after I refused. “I’m Mo and you are?”

  “Jackie.”

  “Good to meet you, Jackie.”

  I wore the dress and played the role, but male attention had become a double-edged sword. I couldn’t go anywhere, do anything, without wondering what their intentions were. Wondering if entertaining their affections would put me in danger of disgracing myself.

  “Here.” He shot a short glass filled with a lemonade-colored liquid across the bar toward me. “Maybe this is more your speed. It’s my specialty.”

  Kem’s little fan club giggled in delight as he took the stage and pulled his hair back with a rubber band. He could drive with the black tendrils framing his face, but he couldn’t play like that. Clark, a big teddy bear of a guy, sat poised behind his drums waiting. His eyes searing into mine. He knew how I felt about Kem.

  “Come on, take a sip. Help me think of a name for it.”

  Mia was too young for school or daycare. I didn’t trust people with her anyway. Folks just saw a cute little toddler until she blindsided ‘em with the truth. Nobody handled her like I did.

  “Mommy, you got pretty hair. I got hair like you?”

  It was shorter but basically the same. A blessing straight from my father, like my complexion. “Read your book.”

  “I don’t wanna. When we gonna find Dee?”

  I wasn’t about to admit it to a four year old, but I was starting to worry about him myself. Couldn’t stay mad at him for no real stretch of time. Besides, I should’ve known better than to hide the money where he could find it.

  The world flew by the windows in front of us and behind us. The Dan Ryan Expressway was busiest during rush hour. Folks trying to get from the south side to downtown and back. The cars’ headlights made one long blur of light as the El sped from one stop to the next.

  “I like the train,” Mia announced for the hundredth time. She turned the pages in her book, interpreting the pictures. Sometimes she managed to thread together a story that actually made sense. Most times not.

  I watched her, waiting to hear whether this was one of those times.

  “I not gonna sleep ‘til we find him.”

  “Yeah, you will.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  She didn’t talk like a regular four year old. Didn’t look at me like one either. I’d been in charge of kids before. Natalie. Some of the kids at the reverend’s church. All of ‘em was more scared of me than my own daughter was.

  “Mia, you gotta sleep. Your body needs it.”

  “No, Mommy.”

  “Yes.”

  “No!”

  That could’ve gone on forever. With Mia holding her sleep hostage or at least determined to do so. She’d eventually fall out, and I’d be there to catch her. By the time she realized what had happened, she’d be in la-la land.

  “We go get Dee now?”

  “Yeah.”

  Soldier boy liked to disappear on the south side. Pissed me off I had to go back there to find him. Last thing I needed was to bump into somebody I knew from my previous life. That’s what I called the time before I left home.

  I had a good idea of where to find him. He’d gotten away with almost a thousand dollars. It was enough for him to stay doped up for a few weeks. If I got to him soon enough, maybe I could reclaim most of my savings.

  “Dee miss me. I can tell. He missing me right now. He miss you too, Mommy.”

  My best bet was a vacant three-flat on King Drive. It didn’t have any numbers on the outside, so I never remembered the actual address. Only recognized it when I came upon it. It wasn’t the kinda place to take a little kid. Even if she was Mia Morrow.

  ◼︎

  Both Jackie and Nikki came with baggage. Neither one of ‘em was me. Jackie was always teetering on the edge of her sobriety. Nikki was miserable, married to a man I ain’t trust as far as I could throw his little ass. If Natalie were older and had her own place, she would’ve been my first choice for a babysitter.

  “There she is! The cutest little niece in the whole wide world!”

  “Hi, auntie.”

  Jackie hoisted Mia onto her hip and gave her a loud smooch on the cheek.

  “She hasn’t eaten yet.”

  “Don’t worry, I got it.” Jackie nodded to the table, telling me to leave Mia’s bag there. “Whatcha want? Want a Happy Meal?”

  McDonald’s was safe. I met everybody at McDonald’s. Meant I ain’t have to worry about them telling certain folks where I was ‘cause they didn’t know themselves.

  “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “Mommy, I go with you.”

  “No, you stay here with Jackie.”

  “No, I go with you.”

  Jackie tried not to smile. She wasn’t so good at that. I was better.

  “No. You stay here. With Jackie. I’ll be back.”

  “No,” Mia began to roar.

  “You don’t wanna be with me?” Jackie gave her best wounded look. That my sister was good at. She could make a dragon feel guilty for the fire he breathed. “I wanna be with you. I think we could have lots of fun together. Don’t you usually have fun with me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then why don’t we hang out while your mama goes to do whatever she’s gonna do.” Jackie winked. She still thought everything secretive had to do with sex. “Okay? Deal?”

  “I want a Happy Meal.”

  ◼︎

  Darien was wounded in the leg during a mission to some far off land he wasn’t supposed to talk about. He was lucky because nothing was left of the soldier standing next to him. He said Private Bird was a really good guy. That Bird was the type to crack jokes even in the middle of a thunderstorm. He’d taunt the lightning and poke at the thunder. He had a young wife and a baby on the way. Bird was the one who was supposed to come home, but Dee made it instead.

  He’d been honorably discharged from the army two years before we met. For all the lip service folks did to the troops, the services for veterans were limited and seriously backlogged. By the time he got around to seeing a doctor regularly it was too late. He’d found another way to manage the pain and the guilt. So for two years, he pushed that squeaky old shopping cart all around the neighborhood, collecting cans and anything else he might sell for food or drugs. I was sixteen, standing on Ramon’s corner looking out for the police when he walked by. He was one of Ramon’s regulars, but he tried not to come by when I was around. For some reason, seeing me there made it harder for him to get his fix. He never could explain to me why that was. He ain’t know me.
I ain’t know him. We’d never even spoke, but if he saw me, then he had to walk on by.

  That was what he was intent on doing, but Ramon noticed him anyway. The permanent shadow that covered his eyes, the ratty old jacket reeking of incense and funk, and the mangled dreadlocks were meant to be a cultural statement. Ramon hadn’t liked the way he was looking at me, but Dee didn’t care. He kept on looking from a distance, mostly. Watching, as I got bigger and spent more time on that corner. He pushed that squeaky old shopping cart all around the neighborhood, collecting cans and anything else he might sell for food or drugs to numb the pain.

  The three-flat on King Drive was built of blonde bricks and gray mortar. It was surrounded by a nonexistent yard. The kind of landscaping which looked like it had never been alive to begin with. A vacant lot stood on its left and a small bungalow, squatting beneath overgrown trees and bushes, on its right. The apartments inside were abandoned long ago. Junkies couldn’t get high properly in absolute darkness, so the flicker of candlelight appeared in random sequence throughout the various windows, most of which were boarded up.

  A few of ‘em were lurking on the porch, like gargoyles standing watch over their castle. Their glazed over stares fixed on me, and there was no way to tell whether their next move would come from paranoia, murderous intent, fear, or some combination of all three. Didn’t do any good to stop, so I climbed the steps, prepared for the possibility I’d have to fight my way inside. I didn’t.

  There’d been a fire in the building some years back, and the walls and floor were still charred from it. The scent of human depravity covered any lingering wisps of smoke. Bodies laid slumped over makeshift mattresses and each other with only the moonlight to keep ‘em company. Darien hadn’t gone a day without that faded green jacket. It was because of that jacket I could pick him out of a crowd of a hundred people. I did a quick scan of the first floor and moved on to the stairs. The steps were an altogether inconsistent bunch. Some of ‘em did their job well enough while others had given up a long time ago. Had to take my time, careful to avoid places where the wood had fallen apart, leaving empty pockets of darkness anybody could’ve fallen into.

  Don’t get me wrong, I ain’t no hero. I’d heard of the terrible things that happened in that building. Little girls getting raped. Folks dying and nobody even caring. In spite of common knowledge, I wasn’t worried. I hadn’t been a lil’ girl for some time, and I had no intentions of dying. If it came down to it, I was more worried about the damage I could do than what would be done to me. See, I’d always known I couldn’t be hurt, not physically. Bad things happened all around me, and I managed to escape it unscathed. Darien and I had that in common.

  I found him huddled in a corner of the smallest bedroom on the second floor. A writhing lump under the army surplus coat. The patch labeled Lt. Allen was all that was left of his time in Vietnam. The coat covered most of his body, leaving a few dreads and his legs to stick out. A slow moan rustled beneath the dense but dirty cotton when I pushed my foot into his thigh.

  “It’s me,” I whispered and leaned over to sling his arm around my shoulders. “Come on. Get up.”

  He didn’t argue. His head drooped forward and a long string of slaver dropped to the floor. Tripped over his own feet, mumbling about Uncle Sam and destiny. I focused on guiding him down the stairs. I’d have to check his pockets later to find out how much of our money he’d blown.

  “Mama, do me a favor?” Jackie went on to ask for something, but I was too busy staring at the little girl holding her hand. “Mama?”

  “I not ‘posed to be here,” the little one said, reprimanding her babysitter.

  She wore faded blue jeans that were too long for her, but they had been rolled up, so she didn’t step on ‘em, a tee shirt that fit a smidge better, but was clearly meant for a boy, and sneakers which were so big they flip flopped on her feet. Still, she was beautiful. She was Mya.

  “Mommy said stay at McDonald’s.”

  “I know, but I gotta get to work now,” Jackie’s eyes pleaded with me. “I waited as long as I could. I don’t know what happened to her.”

  “She go get Dee.”

  “She keeps saying that. I don’t know what it means. Here.” She handed over my grandchild then, as a last thought, turned back before taking the first step upstairs. “Mia, this is your grandma. Say hi.”

  “What’s a grandma?”

  “Me. I’m a grandma.”

  “Why?” Before I could answer, she seemed to remember a more important question. “You know Dee? My Mommy go get him. She gonna be mad when she can’t find me.”

  I didn’t doubt that at all.

  “You not gonna like her when she mad.” She was warning me. “She get real big and strong.”

  “Mama, who’s that?” Jenna asked from the top of the stairs, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

  Heziah and I hadn’t exactly told the twins why Mya left, only that she wanted to live somewhere else. They didn’t know Mya had been pregnant. What they knew about the deed wasn’t much to begin with so explaining how their sister got in the family way wasn’t high on our list of things to do.

  “Go back to bed!” I went back to being amazed by the lil’ girl who looked so much like my own child. Coulda been her sixteen years ago. “You hungry?”

  She nodded, so off we went to the kitchen.

  Heziah came down eventually, and I explained who she was while she devoured a box of RITZ Crackers. He stuck out his hand and introduced himself as her grandfather. She waved and went right back to her midnight snack.

  “You two can have the bed. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yep.”

  I had my baby back. Maybe for an hour, maybe for a night, but she was all mine.

  Kem was a natural on stage. He seduced the women in the audience with every strum of his guitar. Didn’t even have to look directly at them. They swooned in their seats with moist panties and eyes so big you’d think they were lusting after a mouth-watering steak, and their men were too focused on me to notice.

  After the first set, we climbed down from the stage to a thunderous applause. I smiled my thanks and headed to the bar while the guys disappeared into the dark corridor that led to the closet posing as a dressing room. Mo greeted me with his special.

  “Heard a rumor ‘bout ya.”

  “About me?”

  He gloated at his newfound knowledge. “Heard you just a baby.”

  “I ain’t been a baby for eighteen years.” Couldn’t have been. Not with Ricky Morrow leering over me. The foggy liquid swirled around coating the inside of the glass. I suspected the liquor of choice was gin, but Mo wasn’t giving up any parts of his secret recipe.

  Mo spread his fingers against the bar, leaning forward with all one hundred and fifty pounds of his weight. He was a decent-looking guy and acted enough like a gentleman that I couldn’t put my finger on what I was shying away from.

  “Bet you got a boyfriend, huh?”

  “Not technically.”

  “What about the pretty boy that be on stage with you?”

  “Just friends.”

  “So, he ain’t gonna mind if I call you sometime.”

  I caught a glimpse of Kem out of the corner of my eye. He sauntered to the opening of the dark corridor and looked out over the crowd with a tiny cigarette perched between his lips. He held it between his thumb and index finger and took a slow puff. Even from ten feet away, I could tell it wasn’t filled with tobacco. I’d smelled it before in his car and immediately recognized it although it had been a while since I indulged in the herb.

  “I’ll be back,” I said before gulping down my drink. Kem saw me weaving through the wobbly tables toward him and smiled.

  “Nice set, huh, mami?”

  “I think that’s illegal.”

  His eyebrows arched to the ceiling, and he nodded to the blunt between his fingers. “Are you going to turn me in?”

  “I’m thinking about it,”
I confessed, leaning against the other side of the hallway. “

  I’d chosen metallic gold pants and a black sequined tank with black stilettos that put me almost eye to eye with him. Kem’s gaze dropped to the floor as he took another drag. I was almost certain he was admiring my legs. Rings of smoke floated calmly across the space between us, and he lifted his prized possession an inch, offering to share it with me.

  “Isn’t that a gateway drug?”

  “Gateway to what?”

  I shrugged.

  Kem pressed it again between his lips, this time savoring the experience as his smoldering stare climbed up my body. A ruckus rose up in the audience, but we barely noticed. He offered it to me again, and this time, I moved to his side of the hall and took it between my fingers as I’d seen him do.

  “You’ll have to teach me.”

  “Forty-one ain’t old.”

  “I didn’t say it was.”

  My doctor was the dumbest smart man I’d ever met. Sure, he had plenty of degrees and such, but he ain’t know one thing about how to talk to folks. Couldn’t fix his lips to offer an apology. Didn’t even look me in the eye. Just kept right on squeezing my right tit.

  Mia sat in the chair by the door, flipping the pages in one of the fashion magazines. I wasn’t too sure if she knew what she was looking at or if she was acting like the folks she’d seen in the waiting room.

  “I’m still a woman.”

  It was a ridiculous argument to make. Of course, he knew that, but I couldn’t help being offended by his pointing out maybe I should be thinking ‘bout the change.

  “Belinda, I’m not saying it’s around the corner, but you might start to notice some changes. Do you know when your mother began menopause?”

  I ain’t even know if the woman was alive.

  “That could give us some indication…umm…” His thought trailed off as his pasty-white forehead was suddenly overcome by wrinkles. “Have you been examining yourself?”