CHAPTER 8
SUNSET
Nothing about my life was ever soft. Even the good moments had edges to them.
Before I had the words for it, I understood: This was the kind of place that constantly tested you.
In my city, you had to learn how to take a hit before you ever learned how to throw one.
And this hit, knocked the wind out of me.
It was one of those Philly afternoons where the heat clung to the sidewalks like glue.
Mama had the windows open, trying to catch a breeze that never came.
The twins was still babies, waddling around.
Shay was eleven going on grown. Attitude bigger than the block, yelling at us all the time, like she was the second mama. And she was.
“Summer, move dat baby before he hit his head,” she snapped as Sinceer banged a plastic spoon against the table.
I rolled my eyes harder than marbles, scooping him up anyway. He giggled, drool sliding down his chin.
Outside, the block sang the way it always did. It was a regular day. Then the sirens started, which wasn’t unusual on our block. But these sirens was loud. Urgent. They grew closer fast. Shay jerked her head up immediately.
“What tha hell…”
Three police cars screeched to a stop directly in front of 5126. The doors flung open, and officers hopped out expeditiously. The entire block was watching. Mama came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a towel. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the officers marching toward the porch.
“What is this?” she was visibly bothered by their presence.
One of the officers stepped forward. “Denise Carter?”
Mama toughened.
“Yeah? That’s me.”
“We’re looking for Deirdre Carter.”
Mama blinked fast.
“She’s not...”
Before she could get the lie out, the front door behind her opened, and Aunt Dee stepped out. She had been in the bathroom curling her hair. She looked good that day. The instant she saw the police, her smile faded.
“Damn,” she muttered.
The officer stepped forward.
“Deirdre Carter, you are under arrest for armed robbery and aiding and abetting a bank robbery.”
“Robbery?” Mama snapped.
“What tha hell are you talkin’ ‘bout?”
The officer pulled out a piece of paper.
“We have a warrant ma’am.”
Mama turned slowly toward her sister.
“Dee?”
Aunt Dee didn’t answer right away. She glared down at the porch steps and exhaled hard.
“Niecy… I didn’t rob nothin’. But I drove.”
“You drove?”
Her silence said everything.
Mama’s voice cracked.
“Dee… tell me you didn’t do dat.”
Aunt Dee gazed up sadly.
“I needed tha money.”
The officers moved in, and one grabbed her wrist. The cold metal handcuffs clicked into place. Sinceer started crying immediately. Saiyd followed. Babies always know when something is wrong. Shay hurried down the steps.
“Get off her!”
“Shay!” Mama shouted.
Shay was furious.
“She ain’t do nothin’!”
One officer pushed her back gently.
“Stay back, kid.”
Shay’s eyes burned.
“I’m not a kid!”
But she was. Shay was strong, but all that bravado, that toughness, it cracked right there on the sidewalk.
The whole block had gathered now, and whispers moved through the crowd.
“Dee got caught.”
“I heard dat bank job was messy.”
“Dey said tha dude had a gun.”
Aunt Dee turned toward us one last time before they pushed her into the police car. Her eyes found me first. Then shay. Then the twins.
“Summer,” she said weakly. I stepped forward.
“You gonna be okay,” she told me. My throat tightened.
“Don’t let dis place swallow you, baby.”
She looked at Shay.
“Take care of them for me. Always do what’s right… for me.”
Shay agreed as the tears streamed down her face.
“I will.”
An officer shoved Aunt Dee into the back seat and the door slammed shut. The sirens faded down the street. Poof, she was gone.
The crowd broke apart and the block returned to its normal noise.
Our whole life had been emptied that fast.
Mama sulked at the kitchen table with her head in her hands.
Shay paced the floor like a caged animal.
The twins screamed until their voices turned hoarse.
I collapsed on the couch, my eyes on Sinceer in one walker and Saiyd in the other.
Their tiny bodies shook with confusion. They didn’t comprehend what had happened. But I did.
That night Shay crawled into bed beside me. She didn’t talk, she just scowled at the ceiling.
“You think Aunt Dee comin’ back soon?”
I asked feebly.
Shay swallowed hard.
“Yeah. Don’t worry. She prolly be back in tha mornin’.”
But her voice didn’t sound sure.
I stayed awake for hours thinking about those handcuffs. That police car. The way Aunt Dee looked when they carried her away. I didn’t know that was the last time her hands would feel that way. I didn’t know that was the last time I would feel the sunshine.
As life went on without Aunt Dee, the house got dimmer. Mama got sharper. Shay got harder. The twins cried more. I kept waiting to hear, ‘Where my babies at?’ But it never came again. That’s when I learned that the people who feel like sunshine, get pulled into dark storms they can’t get out of.
Mama never took us down to the prison to see Aunt Dee.
I don’t know the why behind it, grown up reasons, things nobody explained all the way.
What I do know, I didn’t want to see her that way.
Didn’t want to walk into that place, seeing her behind glass, turned into something smaller than what she was to us.
So, we didn’t go. Mama went though, pretty often.
She would leave like it was just another errand.
When she came back, her face was lighter.
Her shoulders not sitting so stiff. Seeing her sister, even like that, gave her hope the rest of the world couldn’t.
Aunt Dee called all the time too. Her voice coming through the phone, still big, full of life, the walls around her couldn’t take that part of her in.
Mama would prop against the counter, cheesing, giggling, talking under her breath to her, like no time had passed.
To her, that was her baby sister, no matter where she was, no matter what happened. Mama never turned her back on her.
I missed her, a lot. Even though I understood why we didn’t go visit her, it didn’t make it easier.
Some people even when they are still living, feel distant in a way that’s hard to explain. Aunt Dee…she was one of those people.
The block took parts of your family too. And when it did, it never asked permission.