14. Corinthians
Corinthians
“My daddy said if I keep doin’ good, I can get on a team like yours,” Cross said, lying across the bed. We were at Madea's and Granddaddy’s for our last sleepover before school started. We’d been here all weekend, and tomorrow we had to go back.
I stopped looking out the window to look at her.
“Your daddy said what?” I’d been ignoring what Cross and Mercy had been talking about.
Psalms sat in the corner of the room, her ladybug in her lap, watching us.
She hadn’t said too much of anything since Mama brought her from Jonathan’s house before she dropped us off over here.
I’d noticed a bruise around her whole wrist and wanted to know how she got it.
“I've been boxing,” she excitedly told me. She looked around the room to make sure no one was listening, then turned back to me. “I know he told Madea that we stopped, but we didn’t. My daddy is still letting me fight. He said the owner saw one of my fights and offered him private lessons.”
“You’re still fighting?” I asked. Nobody had mentioned that they were still fighting.
“Yeah,” she nodded and smiled. “I’m good at it, too. I keep winning the sparring matches against the boys. Daddy said I will start private lessons soon.”
“Private lessons with who?” I asked slowly. My heart slammed against my chest. I didn’t want any of them to deal with Robert.
“Somebody named Logan,” she answered with a shrug, then rolled onto her back and put her hands over her head. “I’m supposed to start in a few weeks. I can’t wait!”
“Tell your daddy you changed your mind.” I got up from my bed, shaking my head. “Tell him that you don’t want to fight, please, Cross.”
“Why?” She looked up at me with a confused expression. “I like it. It’s fun.”
“It’s not fun.”
“It is!” She rolled over and got on her knees.
“It’s not!” I told her. “It’s stupid, boring, and your body will hurt. Tell him you want to do something else. Tell him that you don’t want to do it!”
“And do what else instead? Play basketball with Mercy?” Cross rolled her eyes, then pushed her big curly hair from her face. “Basketball is dumb, and so are people who like it.”
“Hey!” Mercy said from the top bunk where she was lying down. She looked over the railing at us. “Basketball isn’t that bad!”
“You only play because your daddy said you can't box anymore; you don’t even like it,” Cross told her.
“It was better than boxing,” she argued. “Who wants to get hit all the time? I didn’t like it and told my daddy after the first practice. I would rather play basketball.”
“You should go play basketball with Mercy,” I told Cross.
“No, thank you. I’m sticking with this.” She raised her fist, then pretended to fight. “I’m going to be so good that people will hear my name and know that I’m going to win. Every time I walk into a ring, I’m going to win.”
I didn’t say anything, just watched her throw punches. When she finally stopped, she looked at me and lifted her brow. “What are you crying for, Corinthians?” she playfully smiled at me. “You scared we are going to end up in the ring together?”
“Yes,” I truthfully told her.
Cross climbed out of her bed, stood next to me, and put her arm over my shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you,” she said, laughing.
“Madea said, ' Come here so we can pick the kind of pizza we want,'” Krude said, running past the door. Mercy climbed from the top bunk and ran behind Krude.
I went to the bathroom and came back to find Cross standing over Psalms with a weird look on her face.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I walked into the room. Psalms looked nervous while Cross looked angry.
“What happened to her?” Cross said, pointing to Psalms' wrist.
“I fell,” Psalms answered, moving Cross to come stand behind me.
Cross pulled Psalms back before she could get far enough from her. “Fell?” Cross questioned her. “It goes around your whole wrist; that’s not a bruise you're getting from falling.” She lifted Psalms' arm.
“That hurts!” Psalms cried. “Let me go!”
“No, what happened to you?” she asked her again.
I jumped between them, put Psalms behind me, and pushed Cross back, making her fall. “She said, let her go!” I yelled. “You’re hurting her.”
“I didn’t hurt her!” Cross got up. “She has a bruise on her wrist, and I want to know where she got it from.”
“I fell!” Psalms told her as she cried.
“You don’t get that kind of bruise from falling!” Cross angrily yelled. “And don’t push me again!” Cross pushed me back, and I bumped into Psalms.
“Don’t touch me again, Cross,” I warned her.
“Then tell me what happened to her wrist!” Cross told me. I shook my head, and she came closer to me. I knew she was going to hit me, and I couldn’t have that. I waited until she was close enough to hit her. Just as I raised my fist, Madea came into the room.
“You better not!” she yelled, pulling Cross away from me. “Have y’all lost your damn minds? You’re fighting?” No one said anything. “Oh, y’all can't hear me? Y’all deaf now?”
“No, ma’am,” Cross answered as she glared at me.
“Then start talking, where y’all about to start fighting?” she asked, even though it was obvious that we were.
“No,” I answered her. “We were playing.”
“Now y'all liars, too,” Madea laughed and shook her head. “I can't believe this.” She rolled her eyes. “Cross, why were y’all about to fight?”
“Psalms has a bruise on her wrist,” Cross answered, looking at Madea. “I asked her how she got it, and she said she fell.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“It doesn’t look like a bruise you get from falling. I should know I fall all the time,” she pushed her round glasses up her nose. “Look at her wrist, Madea.”
“Psalms, let me see your wrist,” Madea requested. She put her hand out for Psalms to show her. Slowly, Psalms did what she asked, and Madea examined her wrist. Her face was devoid of emotion, but I could see the anger in her eyes.
“See!” Cross said, coming to stand next to Madea. “That’s not a bruise from falling.”
“Cross, go in the living room,” Madea said, still looking at Psalms wrist.
“But Madea-“
“Cross Joy DeCorte, take your ass in the living room!” Madea snapped. “Now!” Cross quickly left the room, making sure to close the door behind her. Once she was gone, Madea sat on the floor in front of Psalms and me. “Tell me what happened to your wrist, Psalms.”
“I grabbed her before she could fall,” I quickly said.
Madea sighed, then shook her head. “I want the truth,” she said, looking between the two of us. “You can tell me. I won't be mad at you.”
“That’s the truth,” I told her. “She was falling, and I grabbed her wrist to keep her from hitting the ground.”
“Corinthians-“
“It’s the truth, Madea,” Psalms spoke up. “I was falling, and Cori grabbed me.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, and we nodded. Her eyes went to the bruise and then back up to us. “There’s nothing else you need to tell me?”
“No ma’am,” I replied, even though it was the furthest thing from the truth. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted her to save us because I couldn’t.
“Mary!” Granddaddy’s loud voice echoed through the house.
Madea looked up at the door, then stood.
Granddaddy rushed into the room, pushing the door so hard that it slammed against the wall.
Psalms jumped and hid behind me. “Mary!” The door opened, and Granddaddy looked between the three of us. “Baby, we need to talk.”
“You're getting water on the floor, Gabriel.” He was soaking wet.
“I know, baby, and I swear I’m going to clean it up, but I need your help right now,” Granddaddy said. He put his hand out and motioned for her to come to him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked as she approached him. Granddaddy was normally calm and never yelled, so for him to be doing it now was out of character.
“Me and JD found something,” he said, then looked over at us. John David, also known as JD, was Madea’s older brother. He and Granddaddy were best friends. They were complete opposites. Granddaddy was calm and quiet, while Uncle JD was always cracking jokes and making people laugh. “Come outside.”
“It’s raining out there, Gabriel,” she said, shaking her head. “We can talk in the room.”
“Mary, I need you to come outside,” he insisted. “I can’t just tell you, baby; I need you to see it, too.” Madea sighed, then looked back at us. “Mary, please.”
“Fine,” she said, nodding. “Girls, I’ll be back.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
Madea gave me one final look, then followed Granddaddy outside.
“Cori?” Psalms said my name softly.
“Yeah, Bug?” I answered. I wiped my hands over my face and let out a sigh of relief.
“I had an accident,” she said. I turned around to see that her clothes were wet. “I didn’t mean to. Granddaddy scared me when he ran into the room, and the door hit the wall.” Tears fell from her eyes. “I thought it was Jonathan coming to get me.”
“Come on, Bug,” I said, taking her hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up before they notice.”
***
I stuffed Psalms' wet clothes into the washer, along with her bedding and her stuffed animal. She’d had another accident after the one earlier.
Everybody was asleep but me. I had just gotten comfortable enough to close my eyes when she started crying in her sleep.
I jumped up to see that she had wet the bed too.
I woke her up, helped her change, and then took everything downstairs to the basement to wash.
I hated basements, but to help my sister, I would do anything.
After I started the washer, I went back upstairs.
The light above the stove was the only one on, but it was enough to see without bumping into anything.
“What are you doing, little ole girl?” Granddaddy asked from the living room. I stopped walking and looked over my shoulder to see that the living room was dark. The light came on, and I saw him sitting in the corner of the room, his gun on his lap and his bible in his hand.
“I put something in the washer,” I told him.
“Accident?” he asked, and I nodded. He didn’t need to know it was Bug who had had the accident, not me. “You alright?”
“Yes, sir,” I told him.
“Yo’ grandmama told me about you and Cross getting into it earlier. You want to talk about it?” he asked, and I shook my head. “Not even a little?”
“It was nothing,” I denied. “We talked about it after dinner.” Granddaddy nodded. “What are you doing up?”
“Just thinking,” he answered with a shrug. “You know how I get when I've got a lot on my mind.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied. Granddaddy always said that when the world got too busy for him, he liked to sit in the dark. He said that’s when he could think the best. When he was surrounded by darkness and no noise, he could hear himself think. “Well, I’m going back to bed.”
“Alright,” he said, then nodded. He reached up and turned off the light. The light above the stove didn’t reach here, but I knew my way to the girls' room without needing a light. “Corinthians?”
I stopped walking down the hall. “Yes, sir?”
“You know it ain’t nothing you can't tell us, right?” he said. “Me and yo’ grandmama would burn the world down for you, your sister, and cousins. All you gotta do is say the word.”
“Yes, sir,” I answered him. I wanted to tell him that Madea said all I had to do was point, but I didn’t; instead, I nodded even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “I know.”
“Good,” he replied. “Now get some rest. I love you.”