Truth does not care if it feels true or not. It is true nonetheless.
I have to fix this. It’s the only way to make it right.
Pet nodded behind her. You are not alone, little girl, and neither is your friend.
The creature was right. Jam leaned forward and put her forehead against Redemption’s. They closed their eyes, and she reached for both her voice and the revolution cry they knew and loved so well, hoping he could feel how strongly she was there for him.
“ ‘We are each other’s harvest,’ ” Jam whispered, her voice falling against the skin of his brow, the words like a small rain. Pet made a clicking sound in its chest and leaned in slightly. “ ‘We are each other’s business.’ ” As she spoke, Redemption’s breathing began to slow. “ ‘We are each other’s magnitude and bond,’ ” Jam finished. They stayed unmoving for a few minutes, the room silent with sunlight.
Finally Redemption sighed aloud and raised his head to look at her, his eyes reddened. “Thanks, friend,” he said.
Jam gave him a tentative smile. He seemed to be holding on to the words, using them as a rope to pull himself into a decision, something that would feel more useful, like he wasn’t helpless.
“I want to find out what happened,” he said, his face set. “I want to find out exactly what happened.”
His jaw had become a line of iron, and he was holding his body taut, coiled in a way Jam had never seen before, a great force winding in on itself, building up to spring forward. It wasn’t until Redemption stood and looked around for Pet that Jam recognized the emotion he’d finally allowed take hold of him: rage.
Pet loved it. Jam could feel its pleasure vibrating through the air; she could even hear a low but audible purr shaking in its golden throat. Redemption’s rage matched the creature’s hunger, reflected it almost perfectly. Their combined intent alarmed Jam.
Let’s just take a minute, she suggested, but neither of them was looking at her.
“How do we find out who the monster is?” Redemption was asking Pet, his fingers clenching and opening into flashing fists. “What do we do when we find them?”
“We remove them,” Pet said. “That is my job.”
“Remove them? You mean, kill them?”
Pet tilted its head in pleased amusement and made a chattering sound. “Yes.”
Jam shot up to her feet and stepped in between them, waving her arms. “We’re not killing anyone!” she burst out, horrified.
Pet was expressionless, and Redemption folded his arms, his eyes glittering.
Come on, man, she said, her hands trembling. This wasn’t a cascade she wanted to set off. We don’t even know what’s happening. You’re talking about a life!
Redemption looked slightly abashed, but his jaw stayed stubborn. “I can’t have someone hurt my brother and nothing happen to them, Jam. You know I can’t.”
It’s not our decision! It’s not even Pet’s! She shot Pet a stern glare as she said that, and Pet looked back with its nothing face, its claws clicking against each other idly. We report whatever we find. That’s the right way.
Redemption bit his lip, then nodded. “Fine. Whatever. I just want to know what we’re going to do now, like, right now.”
“Hunt,” Pet replied, and that one syllable shook the air around them, rolling through it with a deep rumble. Jam could feel how thinly Pet’s patience was drawn, how sharp its desire was. She sighed and looked at Redemption.
He picked the pamphlet up from the floor and folded it, shoving it into his back pocket. “We hunt,” he agreed.
Jam frowned at him. You’re not going to tell Ube you’re taking that out?
Redemption pushed past her and toward the door. “I don’t give a shit about Ube right now,” he said. “I’ve got a monster to find.” He left the door swinging open behind him as he walked out.
Pet started purring again, the sound a sharp and scraping vibration. He’s ready, it said, pleased.
Jam shook her head and arranged the rest of the pamphlets in a neat pile on the table. I don’t have a good feeling about this, she said.
You shouldn’t. There’s nothing good about a monster.
She twisted her mouth. I suppose.
As they headed out of the archive room, a thought occurred to her, and she looked up at Pet. It couldn’t be one of their parents, could it?
The question spilled out before Jam thought about what the answer could be. As soon as it was alive, all Jam wanted was for Pet to tell her with certainty that of course it couldn’t be one of the parents, of course none of them would hurt their own child. But instead Pet kept walking and didn’t reply.
Jam ran ahead and jumped in front of it, blocking its path. I asked you a question, she said. Tell me it can’t be one of them.
The creature sighed and looked down at her, its horns bumping into the doorframe. You know I can’t do that, little girl.
The answer was too heavy, the possibility crushing. Jam thought about Malachite, Beloved, and Whisper, then hoped desperately that this fear hadn’t occurred to Redemption, not yet. It can’t be one of them, she said.
Pet pushed her gently out of the way. Monsters can be anyone, it said. We hunt them anyway.
It followed Redemption out of the library, and Jam ran after them, dragging her heavy heart with her. She signed a quick thank-you to Ube as she passed his counter, and he watched as she burst out of the front doors and back into the world.
* * *
—
Out on the street, Redemption was walking quickly, his head down and his hands fisted in his pockets. Pet was walking beside him, one step for three of Redemption’s, its head outlined against the sea-blue sky. Jam jogged a little to catch up with them, then fell into place beside her friend.
You going back home? she asked.
“Yeah,” he said.
And then what?
She could feel how tense he was, how close to blowing up.
“Then I’ll figure out who’s been putting their hands on my brother and I’ll beat their face in.”
Redemption said it like it was nothing, but the anger sat openly on his skin, a new and warbling mask.
Jam glanced at him. “What if it’s one of your parents?” she said.
It was one of the fastest mistakes she’d ever made. She’d been determined not to ask that question, to keep that possibility as far away from Redemption as possible, but hearing him talk so openly about the kind of violence he used to reject had hooked it out of her mouth and pulled it into the air. As soon as she voiced it, Jam knew it had been the exact wrong thing to say to him.
Redemption stopped walking and flinched, fresh shock filtering over his face. “What did you just say?” he asked, his voice rising.
Jam felt blood rush to her face. Forget it, I shouldn’t have said it.
“My parents? You think one of my parents would hurt Moss?”
Her cheeks were hot and itchy. I don’t know, okay?! You said someone’s hurting him, I don’t know, I thought maybe.
Redemption still looked horrified. “I mean, yeah, I think someone’s hurting him, but not one of my parents!”
Okay, fine! I’m sorry!
They stood looking at each other, a shared cloud of distress knotting around them. Pet had stopped walking when they did and was watching with a patient sort of blankness. Redemption sagged, and the anger he’d been clinging to slipped away, replaced by worry.
“You really think it could be one of them?” He sounded little and scared. Jam wanted nothing more than to take all those feelings away and put him somewhere safe.
I don’t know, she answered. I mean, I don’t think so…
Redemption looked like he was about to cry.
Jam turned to Pet. Could we just stop the hunt for a second? she asked. He’s not okay.
Neither is his brother, Pet replied.
Jam stared at it in shock, then the anger showed up. You know what? she snapped. Why don’t you just run off and keep hunting if you want. You’re so inhuman you don’t even see it! I’m going to make sure Redemption’s okay, since you clearly don’t care about that whatsoever.
She pushed it out of her mind and turned back to Redemption. Why don’t we go to my house for a little bit? she said.
Redemption nodded reluctantly, and she took his arm as they started walking down the street again.
We keep getting close, and you keep hesitating, Pet’s voice interjected, driving through her skull. This is not how a hunt works, little girl. Your friend’s brother could be in danger at this very moment.
If he’s in danger now, then he was in danger this morning and yesterday, and every minute since you’ve been here, Jam pointed out. She tried to keep her face still as she yelled at Pet so Redemption wouldn’t notice. Stop trying to rush everything! I don’t know much about hunting, but I’m pretty sure that being cautious or thorough matters a lot more than just rampaging in because you want to catch something.
To her surprise, Pet seemed taken aback. It didn’t say anything at first but followed behind Jam and Redemption, reeking of contemplation. A block later, it spoke up, its tone grudging.
You are right, little girl, it said. To hunt is to be hungry, but too much hunger can hurt the hunt.
Jam heard the apology under the words. Okay, she said. Glad we’re on the same page.
We will soothe your friend before we proceed, Pet continued. Besides, we need him stable. Agitation like this will only hinder the hunt.
Jam rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything, and they walked the rest of the way to her house in silence. The streets of Lucille looked exactly the same; it could have been any other day with the two of them walking home, except for Pet. Jam kept having to reconcile those two worlds: one in which Pet was loud and present, and the other one, the one everyone else saw, where Pet didn’t even exist. If she could see and hear and feel Pet, but no one else could, then which world was true? Pet was very clearly here, but those who didn’t see or believe in it, all those families who were still living their normal, monsterless lives, they were the majority. Jam looked at their gardens and driveways, still intact even after her and Redemption’s worlds had been shaken apart. It didn’t seem right.
She and Redemption were stuck in a reality where Moss was bruised and flinching, afraid of his own family, but all these other kids were still there, playing with chalk on the sidewalks and biking down the street and feeling safe in that special way that only Lucille could make you feel. Jam didn’t feel safe anymore, and she didn’t know if or when she would again. There was a monster here—how was anything supposed to even seem safe again? Especially when none of them had any idea who the monster was. They were probably walking around in plain sight, hidden nicely by smiles and Lucille’s optimism. Jam was a whirlpool of anger, sourness, and fear. She couldn’t imagine how much worse Redemption felt.
You think your people have let you down, Pet said as it came up beside her. With the things they have believed, they have disappointed you.
Maybe, Jam replied. She had been thinking a little about Aloe, his insistence that Lucille was safe, his resistance toward Pet. Maybe Bitter would have believed Pet more if Aloe hadn’t been contaminating everything with his fear.
Don’t blame your father, Pet said, interrupting her thoughts. Fear is human. You too were afraid. You too did not want to believe.
It was telling the truth, and that made Jam ashamed of herself. We should’ve known, she said. It’s not that Lucille failed me; it’s more like all of us might have failed Moss, you know?
Pet made a small noise between a grunt and a growl. Might, it said. You still want to believe I am wrong.
No, I didn’t mean that! She tried to explain herself, not wanting to sound like a coward who didn’t want to face the truth, but Pet shook its head.
It does not matter, it said, as long as you are still moving forward. Forward is good. Fear is fine, fear is fearsome. You failed no one—monsters are the ones who do the monstering, not you. Also, you are a child.
Jam wanted to argue, but they’d arrived at her house. At the top of the driveway, Pet stopped walking. I will return when the hunt is resumed, it said, then disappeared.
Redemption started. “Where did it go?” he asked, looking around.
Not sure, Jam answered. She pushed open the front door, and as they kicked off their shoes, she wondered about the answer. Where did Pet go when it wasn’t with her? Surely it couldn’t go all the way back to the world it had come out of. Wouldn’t it need another painting if it went there and wanted to come back? Or maybe it went to an in-between space, like a waiting room or something.
Bitter came out of the kitchen into the hallway as they were putting their shoes against the wall. “Hello, darlings!” she said, breaking into a smile. “I haven’t see you in a while, Redemption. You doing all right? How’s the family?”
Jam was impressed with the mask Redemption slid over his face—he did it so quickly that the pain from a moment ago was gone in a flicker. He smiled back at Bitter and kissed her cheek. “I’m doing good, Aunty. They all good.”
Bitter hugged Jam and kissed the top of her head. “You looking a little stressed, baby. You tired?”
Redemption gave Jam a warning look, and she almost rolled her eyes at him. She didn’t need anyone telling her to be careful. She’d been keeping Pet a secret for what felt like forever, and her parents hadn’t suspected even a sliver of disobedience from her. She knew how to keep things from them.
Little bit, she signed in response to her mother’s question.
“You eat yet?”
Jam shook her head, and Bitter clicked her tongue.
“Allyuh does worry me so, I swear. Can’t feed yourselves without reminders.” She shooed them into the kitchen, where Aloe was frying plantains in slanted golden slices.
Redemption’s eyes lit up with glee. “You’re making dodo!” It was his favorite food, something Malachite had banned temporarily in their house, because she said it couldn’t be good for anyone to eat that much of anything fried for every meal.
Aloe gave an exaggerated sigh when he saw him. “Bitter, you didn’t tell me this one was coming. I would have sliced five more plantains, had I known. These ones won’t be enough.”
Redemption laughed. “It’s all right, Uncle. I’m not that hungry.”
Aloe held up a hand, the spatula dripping slightly from it. “Abeg. I’ve heard that before. I still regret that day, my plantain seriously suffered. I think you ate most of them as soon as I removed them from the frying pan.”
“Let the man fry more if he want,” Bitter said. “It keeps him out of trouble to keep him at the stove.” She grinned and winked at her husband, and he blew her a kiss back. Jam and Redemption sat at the table, and Bitter slid them a plate with some dodo on it, the oil draining away on folded paper towels. Jam ground some pink salt over them and nibbled at a caramelized edge, watching Redemption’s face in her periphery. He was eating with a casualness that was only a little forced, doing a good job of keeping his mask up. Jam knew how hard it was to stick one to your face around people you didn’t have to do that with before. But when realities diverged and you found yourself on a different path from people you used to share a path with…well. Masks were useful then; not quite lies, not quite truths. Just decisions about what to be and what to show. Curation.
A loud beep came from upstairs, and Bitter turned her head. “Laundry done,” she said. “Jam, you could go up and take out my silk before it start drying? Lie it flat on my bed.”
Jam nodded and waited till her mother’s attention was diverted to Aloe before leaning in toward Redemption. You going to be okay?
I’m fine, he signed at her. Go.
He smiled to back up his words, but it had the stretched shine of a mask, and Jam knew it wasn’t true. She patted his shoulder as she left the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time, hurrying so she could get back to him quickly. The clothes were a damp mass in the washer, but it was easy to feel out the silk pieces—Bitter’s pajamas, a flowered robe, a charcoal slip dress. Jam lay them out on her parents’ bed, then started back downstairs, but as soon as she touched the banister, she paused. It was talking to her, as the house always did, but the vibration wasn’t making sense. It said Redemption was leaving, which was strange enough, but it was sending hot flashing waves of anger along with it. The front door opened and closed, and Redemption faded away.
Jam ran down to the kitchen. Where did he go? she asked as she burst through the door.
Both her parents looked at her, then at each other. “I don’t know,” said Bitter. “He just storm out so.”
“He seemed very upset,” Aloe said, frowning.
“Real vex,” Bitter agreed.
I’m going to try to call him, she said, backing out of the kitchen as she rummaged in her pocket for her phone. She hit the video call button as she headed for the door, and it rang once before the call got rejected. Jam stared at her phone in disbelief. What was going on?
She opened her front door and stepped outside, looking to see if he was still standing out there somewhere as she recorded a voicenote. Maybe he just didn’t want to talk live. “Is everything okay?” she said into her phone. “You just dipped out. What’s going on?”
Jam sent the message and walked down her driveway, squinting through the dying day, trying to find him. Her phone buzzed with a reply, a voicenote as well. She held it up to her ear and pressed play.
“You knew it was in my house,” Redemption’s voice said, partly muffled by the wind, half breathless. He was running, she realized, running away from her as he spoke. “Pet said it…in the library…it said it didn’t make a mistake…it said my house…you knew it was my house and you didn’t tell me.” His voice broke off, and it was just the wind and his rushed breaths for a few moments, jagged with anger. “You lied to me, Jam.”
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