18. Corinthians #2
“Does that scare y’all?” he asked, and everyone shook their heads.
“Does it excite you?” Again, they shook their heads.
Psalms and I sat there, not moving. Granddaddy noticed that we hadn’t shaken our heads and looked over at Madea again.
This time he lifted his brow and licked his lips.
“I don’t want y’all to think killing folks is the answer, but I want y’all to be able to handle everything.
” He looked at me. “If you have to pick between you or the other person, I want you always to pick yourselves. Y’all are old enough for this shit, and honestly, I hate that I started this so late. ”
“You want us to kill folks, Granddaddy?” Judge asked. His dark eyes narrowed, and he smirked. “Because I’ve been reading.”
“Oh, here he goes,” Krude sighed, shaking his head. “Man, them science books ain’t about to make you a killer.” He waved Judge off.
“212 degrees,” Judge said, looking at Krude.
“What?”
“That’s the temperature of the water to boil a body,” Judge answered.
Krude looked at him, slowly blinking, then turned to Granddaddy and pointed at Judge. “Don’t teach him nothing,” Krude said, shaking his head. “He's already a killer in the making.”
“I know how much lye it takes to dissolve a body as well,” Judge gloated with a smile that rivaled Krude's when he knew that he was getting on someone's nerves, yet they couldn’t do anything.
Krude took a small step away from Judge and put his hands in his pockets. “You gonna end up on Dateline or something like that.” Krude said, looking at him with a confused expression.
“Doubt it,” Judge replied. “Most serial killers are middle-aged white men, not black teenage boys.”
“You ain’t always gonna be a teen,” Krude said, then turned to Granddaddy. “You want to teach us how to kill people?”
“I don’t want to do anything, but I don’t have a choice,” Granddaddy answered. “And please understand that I’m not asking you to kill anyone. I want you to know how to do it in case you have to protect yourself from more than just a fight.”
“Alright,” Exodus said, nodding. “I’m in.”
“Me too,” Judge said.
“So am I,” Mercy replied.
Krude licked his lips, sighed, then nodded. “Alright, I’m down.”
They all turned and looked at Psalms and me. I had more blood on my hands than they could ever have imagined. I didn’t want to go back to that life. Granddaddy’s intentions sounded good, but so did my daddy’s when he first said I would be boxing. I spent two years fighting for my life.
“Corinthians, you are walking around with a black eye and busted lip,” Exodus reminded me. “You need this. We aren’t always going to be around, and I don’t put anything past anyone. Learn to protect yourself and pray you never have to go that far.”
“We aren’t going to make her do something she isn’t ready for,” Granddaddy told Exodus. I could see the disappointment in his eyes, but I didn’t say anything. Instead, I got up and left the garage. Madea stopped me, and I pointed to the park. She sighed, then nodded.
The walk to the park just outside of Turner Row was just what I needed. I got to the swings and sat. There was no one here, but I knew it would eventually be crowded with kids coming out to play before it was too dark. I pushed myself back, getting just enough momentum to start swinging.
A black car drove by the park a few times before it finally stopped and parked directly across from me.
I stopped swinging and sat there. I couldn’t see through the dark tint, but I had a feeling that someone was watching me.
The driver's door opened, and Robert got out of the car.
He looked the same, dressed in a black suit, with neatly cut hair and a pair of black glasses. He gave me a small wave, then smirked.
I got up and ran back home as fast as I could.
When I got to the porch, the black car slowly drove by the house.
I went into the house, straight to my room, and into my closet.
I got into the back of the closet, behind everything, wrapped my arms around my legs, rested my forehead against my legs, and rocked back and forth trying to calm down my beating heart.
I don’t know how long I stayed in the closet; I know it was long enough for my family to come into the house and get ready for bed.
Everyone knew that if my door was closed, I was in my room and didn’t want to be bothered.
Eventually, I climbed out of the back of the closet, grabbed my clothes to shower, and once I was finished, went to the kitchen to find something to eat.
“He isn’t going to stop,” Psalms said. I turned to see her standing in the doorway leading to the living room.
My hands shook as I stared at my little sister.
“I saw him earlier. I saw his car following behind you when you ran home from the park.” She shook her head, then wiped her hands over her face.
“I’ve seen his car before. A few times, more so over the last few months.
He’s around. Watching, waiting.” She walked into the kitchen, took the plate that was in my hand, and put it on the counter.
“You need to tell Granddaddy and Madea about what we went through.” I shook my head.
“Then protect yourself, Cori, because he isn’t going to stop.
No matter how many times you try and make yourself small and hope that he doesn’t come back.
It’s not going to work. Either tell or let Granddaddy teach you how to kill so when you have to do it, they won't ask questions.” She kissed my forehead then walked out of the kitchen.
My sister's words echoed through my mind. Food wasn’t even a thought anymore. I put everything away and went back to my room. I closed the door behind me, locked it, and went back to my closet.
The next morning, I waited until everyone left for school, then went to the garage to find Granddaddy; he wasn’t there.
His car was gone, too; I checked the calendar in the kitchen and saw that he’d left a note saying he was going to the church.
The walk from our house to the church wasn’t long, and I would’ve done it in the past, but seeing Robert last night had me on edge.
Instead of walking, I went back to the garage and waited.
“What are you doing in here?” Madea asked, coming into the garage with a basket of clothes. She set the basket on the floor next to the washer and glanced over at me. “You look like you got something to say.”
When I didn’t say anything, she shrugged, then turned back around and started the washer.
I knew she wasn’t washing any of our clothes; she only did her and Granddaddy’s.
Around the age of ten, she decided we all needed to learn to be independent.
We had chores and took turns cooking dinner.
She said there were too many of us in this house to expect one person to do everything.
“I-I-I-I,” I stopped talking, licked my lips, and exhaled slowly. Speaking after all this time was harder than I expected. “I want to learn.”
I saw the moment Madea stopped moving, when she held her breath, and had to grab the washing machine to steady herself.
I gave her all the time she needed because that’s what she did for me.
She didn’t rush me, didn’t try to force me to do or be something because someone else decided I should.
After a few seconds, I heard her laugh; it was low and soft, then her body swayed for a moment.
“What do you want to learn?” she asked, not turning around to look at me.
The crack in her voice was the only sign that she was crying.
I didn’t answer her, not because I didn’t know the answer but because I didn’t want to lie to her.
What Psalms said last night was the truth; Robert wasn’t going to stop.
I was going to have to kill him eventually because I wasn’t letting him kill me.
I just needed an out that didn’t involve the people I loved.
Robert had already killed our parents; I couldn't chance him killing everyone else.
Madea turned around and faced me. Tears fell from her eyes, and she wiped them. “Corinthians?”
The garage door opened, and Granddaddy pulled in. He shut off the car, got out, and was about to kiss Madea when he noticed her tears.