Forty-two Minutes

by Janay Harden

  I yelled, “I told no one your secrets! I told no one that you can’t read. I held your secrets, and this is what you do!” I was fuming. Jaxon was not going to stop—we both knew that. Things had to end with me.

  “Is this more of that angry, woman thing? C’mon, Indigo. Wait a sec,” he grabbed my shoulder again. He touched me. Again.

  “Arrgggh!” I screamed.

  Jaxon’s eyes widened in surprise. He stood behind me and I could feel his breath on my neck. In one motion, I turned and yanked his arm hard pushing him forward down the stairs. The building was old with steep, cellar steps. Right in front of us was a flat wall that I had to duck under every time I went down the stairs. I knew the building well from spending so much time here—but Jaxon didn’t. I ducked, so I didn’t hit my head but when I pushed him, his head slammed into the wall in front of us and he yelped, sounding like an injured animal. His head bounced back, and I didn’t let up.

  “Umph!” I kicked Jaxon as hard as I could while he held his forehead. His head slammed into the wall once more, and he slid down, trying to grab hold of the railings to steady himself. His hand narrowly missed the railing, and he tumbled down the steep steps, landing on each step harder and harder. One by one, he rolled fast and hard. It seemed like it was happening in slow motion, with each drop he winced in pain and cried out. When he hit the bottom step, he sprawled out into the studio, motionless. He didn’t move, and I didn’t see blood.

  “Oh my God!” I screamed.

  Loveee that chicken from Popeyes. That bird is cooked and finished! a voice in my head cackled. They all came through at the same time now. They were the same voices I heard in my room a few nights ago.

  She did it!

  Boy, our girl made us proud!

  Start cleaning, Indy, check out the scene.

  I moved quickly, as if I had prepared for this moment. As many times as I went over the scenarios in my head and how I would do it—I froze, unsure of myself. I panted heavily, and scrambled down the steps, looking around.

  What should I do, Mom?

  That’s right, baby girl, Mama is here. What can you use that’s around? Check out the scene first. Use what you have to get rid of the body. And look at the bright side. His car isn’t here so that’s one less thing you have to worry about.

  I looked around and saw nothing, an empty foyer room which led into the studio and Shelby. I paced throughout the studio, looking for options. Think Indigo, think.

  Our girl had her first kill. The voices still swirled in my mind. They all sounded like proud parents. Was this what things had come to? I was proud that I made voices in my head proud? I shut those thoughts down; I didn’t have time for it right now.

  My thoughts turned to Shelby. I walked the short distance and peered at her. Good, ol’ faithful, never-stop-ticking, Shelby. I walked back into the studio and eyed Jaxon. He still lay motionless at the foot of the steps. I inched closer and knelt down.

  He was breathing and his chest moved up and down slowly. I peered around again looking for something to help me finish the job.

  End him, a voice said.

  I obliged.

  I stood and kicked Jaxon in his side. His eyes didn’t open but a small whimper escaped his body. The asshole was still holding on and him being alive angered me. How dare he live? How dare he put his hands on me? I had let him slide one too many times. I wouldn’t end up on one of these tables like Tyesha and Ms. Abigail. I would keep myself safe and go all the way, just like I had promised.

  I walked back into the furnace room once more and placed my hand on it. It was cold to the touch. I turned the knob all the way to eighteen hundred degrees. It would take approximately seven minutes for the furnace to get hot; hopefully Jaxon held off until then.

  CHAPTER 30

  I darted between Shelbyand watching Jaxon and back again; in and out of each room every few minutes as I waited for the ready light to flash on Shelby. When the furnace timer finally dinged and the ready light switched on, I had to make a choice. Was I really going to do this? Do it, do it, do it, the voices in my head chanted.

  This was the moment I feared but fantasized about for so long. This was the moment I tried to fight. The moment I tried not to think about. The moment I so desperately wanted more than anything to talk to Mom about. She wouldn’t judge me; she would let me cry. But I couldn’t cry now. I was on my own, and I had to make a choice. Actually, I guess in a way, Mom was always with me. Maybe not physically—but she was as real as all the rest of the voices.

  Jaxon didn’t move the entire time, and I was thanking the heavens above that I wore my sneakers today and not my work Crocs. I would need the extra support.

  I grunted and pulled Jaxon’s body from the studio. It was only a couple of feet to Shelby, but Jaxon’s body was stocky. I tried kneeling down and tugging at one of his arms, but that didn’t move him either. I huffed at moving him only inches and fell back onto the floor when I lost my balance and my glasses flew off my face. I tripped backwards and I slammed onto the pavement. Tears sprang to my eyes.

  What should I do Mom? What should I do? This was not going to work. I spied the room, looking for something to help.

  Jaxon let out a sudden cry, and I leapt back and covered my mouth with my hands. I looked around the room for something, anything to quiet him. My eyes landed on the tranquilizers we used every once in a while. Mr. Dennis said sometimes the bodies resisted rigor mortis and would twitch by themselves. They were dead, but their skin jumped. Mr. Dennis would look at a body and say, “That one’s fixing to make a comeback.” We gave them another sedation shot until Mr. Dennis was satisfied the body had transitioned. My hands shook while I filled the gel-like solution into the syringe. Jaxon lay writhing, moaning, and groaning in pain behind me. I had to move quickly; each groan was stronger than the last. I inhaled and exhaled, trying to settle my nerves while I worked quickly through shaking hands.

  I darted towards him, knelt down, and jabbed the syringe into his neck. Jaxon yelped once more while he lay in my arms. We stared into each other’s eyes as he faded away. Finally, they rolled back in his head. I looked up to the skies with tears sitting in my eyes, and no sooner, another noise escaped Jaxon’s body. He convulsed and foamed at the mouth. His pupils were larger than I had ever seen on anyone. I felt wetness on my lap.

  Jaxon had peed himself.

  Finally, he stopped moving. I uncradled him, dropped him back onto the floor out of my arms, and inched backward from his body until I hit the room’s corner.

  Shelby hummed from the other room, and I stood once more, this time huffing and puffing. I groaned and put all of my might into Jaxon’s weight this time, knowing I had no other choice. I dragged Jaxon’s body closer to Shelby. Sweat formed at my hairline and it sat on my nose. Running back into the studio, I grabbed the large metal cart we used to transfer the bodies. I laid the cart on its side and I groaned again while trying to roll his body onto the top shelf of the cart.

  “Ahhh!” I grunted. Jaxon’s weight was too much for me.

  I tried placing my arms underneath his armpits to lift him but that didn’t work. I tried to roll him onto the cart from the floor and that didn’t work either. I took a step back and gathered my thoughts. I was breathing hard, and my throat was so hot. I spotted a two-by-four board standing upright leaning against Shelby. I grabbed the board and got down on all fours and hoisted it under him.

  “Ughhh!” I rolled Jaxon onto the metal cart with the help of the two-by-four. I wheeled him into the furnace room where Shelby was hot and ready. His head and leg hit the side of the door entering the room, but I didn’t care. I stood in front of Shelby, sizing her up. Jaxon lay on the cart and it came to my waist. How will I get him up there? The dead bodies we cremated were hollow and I moved them easily. Jaxon was still warm and full of shit.

  You’re going to have to do this, honey. Mom’s voice
urged above all the other ones. There was so much chatter in my head. So much screaming, so much shouting, so much everything—but Mom’s voice reigned supreme over everyone else’s. Find the strength, Indigo. Lift him with all of your strength. You can do it; you have to do it…

  I opened Shelby’s door and knelt into a squatting position. I grabbed Jaxon by the shoulders and screamed at the top of my lungs as I struggled to hoist him up. I tried to stuff him into the furnace, but he was just too heavy, and my knees buckled under the weight of him. He slipped from my arms and fell to the floor. I screamed and closed the furnace door as the high heat singed my eyebrows.

  What should I do? What should I do, I repeated.

  Indigo! Mom’s voice was stern. You have to find the strength. You have to find the will. Everything depends on you. You have to finish him. I’m so proud of you.

  I mulled over her words. I had to finish this once and for all.

  I opened the furnace door once more and squared my knees for more stability, setting my feet onto the cement beneath me. With a loud scream and in one swift motion, I hoisted Jaxon up again over my shoulders and shoved his body into the furnace door.

  “Aghhhh!!” I yelled out. I grunted and pushed him into the hot flames, and I slammed the door shut behind me and locked it.

  In seconds, I heard a blood-curdling scream, and Jaxon’s hand slammed up against the small glass window. I turned the timer all the way up and soon, there was nothing but the hum of Shelby.

  By my calculations, it would take at least forty-two minutes for his body to burn, and I wasn’t sure if I had that much time. Mr. Dennis mentioned swinging by to sign some paperwork. He often did that on the weekends, before any funerals began for the day, to make sure I was there on time. Hopefully today wasn’t one of those days.

  I pulled up a folding chair and sat next to Shelby. When the alarm went off on my phone, I clicked off Shelby and let her cool for a long and painful five minutes. My leg shook back and forth. Waiting, just waiting. Weeks ago, Mom helped me navigate a roundabout. This day she helped me navigate a murder. I could only hear my own breathing; there were no voices now and no Shelby humming. It was just me. I waited a few more minutes for Shelby to cool before I opened the small door and found the remains of Jaxon Green. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

  CHAPTER 31

  I scooped out theremains of Jaxon and put them in a zip lock bag. I raced around cleaning up any evidence that Jaxon had been there. Since his car wasn’t here the only thing I had to get rid of was his bike. I chewed on the inside of my mouth and worried about what to do about the bike. I couldn’t be seen with it, and since the sun was now up, someone probably spotted it already. The thought of someone spotting his bike made me pick up the pace. I had so many things to think about. Jaxon wasn’t the type of person who could just go missing. He was a teenage white boy in Louisiana. They would come looking for him.

  They won’t find him though, you’re already ahead. Think smarter not harder, honey, Mom interrupted. Take that bike and shove it in the same place where you shoved Jaxon.

  I stood a little straighter—I hadn’t even thought of that. Racing up the stairs, I burst out of the front door. Peering around, I didn’t see anyone. If they saw me, they didn’t stir. I wheeled Jaxon’s bike inside the foyer and then carefully downstairs, narrowly missing the wall in front of me. It was rough getting it down those steep steps, but finally I walked the bike towards Shelby, hoisted it up with the same strength I used to raise Jaxon’s body, and shut the door. Shelby didn’t need to reheat because she was hot and roaring to go. Another twenty minutes went by and I repeated the clean-up process, let it cool down, and then scooped out the remains into another zip lock bag. I looked at the bag and couldn’t believe what I held in my hands.

  I did this. I did this.

  A smile formed at the crease of my mouth, and a new feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time set back in. Happiness.

  “What are you doing here?” I questioned Malachi. Joya dropped me off in front of the house, and after I showered and napped, Malachi popped up. Dad still lay snoring in his room.

  “I told you I was swinging by after work. Remember my text? I just wanted to check on you. We haven’t had a chance to really talk, just us.”

  My shoulders relaxed remembering Malachi’s text message, but my heart still beat out of my chest. Did he know what I had just done? Did he see it on me? In my eyes… on my skin? On my face? The elation that I felt throughout my body startled me. My hands and stomach tingled. I did it. I had really done it. I was at the top of a roller coaster and I was gliding down. The excitement and jolt of energy coursed through me, and I thought of all the ways I could improve for it. Not that I was planning another time… but you know, just in case.

  “Indy, you good?” Malachi interrupted my thoughts and looked at me with quizzical eyes. “Where’s The Bus?”

  I hadn’t had a chance to tell him it broke down. I caught him up on that fiasco.

  “You should get that looked at soon. It could be anything.” Malachi instructed.

  Standing on the front porch, I studied Malachi. The sun gleamed off his dark brown skin, and he wore a long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans. He licked his lips as he looked at me, and I had the urge to kiss him. I leaned in and did just that.

  “Whoa,” he said. “That’s what I’m talking about, girl,” his eyes flashed.

  I grabbed Malachi’s sleeve and pulled him towards me. Electric jolts shot through my body, and the voices in my head sent their congratulations. Her first kill, they mused. They sounded impressed.

  My first kill.

  I succumbed and gave into the voices in my head, but maybe they were the ones who were there for me the entire time. Maybe they knew my fate, and I was the one standing in my own way. The energy that I felt in this moment made Malachi look like a million bucks to me. His broad chest. His eyes were bright and staring at me. The same intensity and understanding running between us that always did. I held open the front door for him to come in, and I inhaled his cologne. Goosebumps formed against my skin.

  “Where is everyone?”

  “My dad is sleeping so you’ll have to be quiet. Sidney’s not here.” I batted my eyes and took his hand.

  “But won’t he wake? He’ll freak if he wakes up and I’m here.”

  “I don’t know, and right now I don’t really care,” my voice was low and sing song-y.

  He smiled and shut the door behind him.

  My phone buzzed, and even though I didn’t want to, habit made me look at it. A text from Will read:

  Bring your car by later today, I’ll take a look at it.

  I smiled. Will was always there when I needed him, but right now—in this moment—Malachi was right where I needed him. I locked the front door and tip-toed behind him down the hallway to my bedroom.

  CHAPTER 32

  The voices screamed in my head and it seemed they were having a party… they were so proud of me. I actually found myself humming in the shower. It was soft too—a Chaka Khan song that Mom used to sing to me and Sidney. She didn’t sound half bad, and neither did I in the shower. I flitted around the house and my damp feet slapped against the bare, hardwood floors.

  “Alexa, play Chaka Khan,” I said out loud.

  Alexa sprang to life and played the song that I requested. I hummed in the shower. I swayed my hips and sashayed into the kitchen from the hallway when I was done. I grabbed the broom and began sweeping under the kitchen table and moved the chairs out of the way. I let the broom guide me as I swirled and pretended it was a microphone. I sang that song like they had paid me to sing it. I sang that song like my life depended on it. I sang that song like Sonia Lewis sang it to a young Sidney and an older Indigo; she gave us the best love that she had. It filled my heart with joy. Electricity shot through my fingers and radiated down to my toes and all throughout my body. The feeli
ng was intense, and my head felt calm.

  Inhaling, I took in the apple pie Ms. Arletha made the night before. It smelled fresh and sugary sweet. She had placed yellow tulip flowers on the kitchen table, and I slid to them, closed my eyes, and inhaled. Their light, airy scent tickled my nose, and I cupped them and inhaled again.

  I sang loud now and my voice cracked trying to match Chaka’s moans. I sang for the voices in my head. For making them happy. I sang for Mom as she was the star of the show and would accept nothing less. The joy that I felt knowing Jaxon Green had succumbed by my own hands left me feeling invigorating.

  I had more energy and when I got out of the shower and studied my face in the mirror; it looked aglow. My skin was moisturized and soft. My skin was clear, except for a few beauty marks. Either I was crazy or those were new too. You know when you don’t feel good and everyone says ‘drink some water’? I looked like I had been my drinking my water and everything was agreeing with me.

  Maybe the voices had been trying to help all along. Why did I wait so long? They knew what I needed, even when I didn’t. Did that sound crazy? Parts of me still wondered that, too.

  I heard banging on the front door.

  “Alexa, turn the music off,” I barked. She shut down immediately. I pulled the front door open and on the other side stood a police officer. I looked at his badge: Jamison. K. Jamison.

  “May I help you?” My words caught in my throat. I swallowed them away.

  “Yes, I’m looking for an Indigo Lewis? Is that you?” he questioned; his voice was smooth. Nice. His eyes were kind.

  “Yes, that’s me.” I gave nothing else.

  “What I’m here about is the disappearance of Jaxon Green. His mom… uhhh… ” K. Jamison flipped through his tiny spiral notebook. He licked his tongue and swiped the pages up quickly. “Mrs. Green alerted us you may have been one of the last people to see Jaxon Green.”