36. Corinthians #3
“Because I saw the look in his eyes,” I told her.
I lifted my head to look at her. Psalms stood in front of me.
Her hands on her hips, her face full of concern and eyes filled with fire.
She was scared and pissed off. “You won't understand, Bug, because you didn’t deal with what we did. I know him, his fears, his pain.”
“He can't even fucking feel pain,” she scoffed.
I laughed even though it wasn’t shit funny. I did it to get a grip on my anger. I hated it when people said that. He could absolutely feel pain, emotional pain, and probably more than anyone else I knew.
“Stop talking to me, Bug,” I said, shaking my head. I got up and walked to the kitchen to get some water.
Psalms followed behind me, heavy on my heels. “Stop talking to you? That’s where we are right now? After all the shit we've been through? You want me to stop talking to you because of Four?”
“I want you to stop talking to me about Uri!” I yelled and slammed the refrigerator door.
“I want you to stop telling me about the boy I knew because you didn’t know him!
You saw glimpses of him. You saw him when he wasn’t at his lowest. You don’t get to tell me about him.
About anybody else, sure, you can say what you want, but him?
No, you don’t get to tell me about him.” I ran my hand through my short hair and tried to get control of my temper.
I wasn’t upset with Psalms. I was overwhelmed.
I wanted to see Uri. I needed to make sure he was okay and not blaming himself for something he couldn’t control.
His survival instincts kicked in, and all he could do was try to get me.
I was a trigger for him. Another reason, I thought we were a mistake.
“You’re caught in the thought that he’s still that little boy,” she said, shaking her head.
“He’s not. He’s a grown ass man who has been through shit you know nothing about.
He’s got a shit ton of trauma. Did you hear what Nine said?
He’s the reason Citrine’s big ass has that colostomy bag.
Did you know that? Do you know how much anger it takes to injure someone like that permanently?
Do you know how much mental instability he has?
They had to put him in a sleeper hold to stop him.
” She stared at me with confusion in her eyes.
It felt like, for the first time, she was seeing me without the rose-colored glasses of being her big sister and realizing I was just as fucked up as she thought he was.
“Why can’t y’all let each other go? Every time he came around, I told him to stay away. He never listened.”
“Wait, what?” I tilted my head to the side and thought about what she said. “He came around? When?” I thought about how I felt like I was being watched all the time. I associated them with Robert, either doing it himself or having someone do it for him. Now I was wondering how much of that was Uri.
“When didn’t he?” She stepped back and crossed her arms. “He was always around Corinthians. He was at your graduation, random places; he used to sit outside your shop and watch you. He came to the hospital when Judah was born.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“What was I supposed to say, Corinthians?” she asked in disbelief. “Hey Sissy, the boy from your childhood that was tortured along with you is around? How the fuck was I supposed to tell you that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Exactly, I kept his secret because I saw you when you didn’t think anyone did.
I always saw you, Corinthians, just like he did,” she replied.
“I saw a lot of shit nobody did, and because I heard you cry all those years,” she answered.
She left the kitchen, went to the living room, picked up her purse and keys, then came back.
She smiled sadly. “I would sit outside your bedroom door and wait for you to finally sleep peacefully. Most nights it didn’t work, but sometimes you would.
It wasn’t until I was older and saw the reason why.
You only slept peacefully when Four would sneak into the house.
I don’t know how he did it, but he did. He would sleep in the corner of your room, under your window.
Y’all would hold hands. That was the only time you slept peacefully.
” She kissed my cheek then stepped back.
“You might know Uri, the little boy, but you don’t know Four, the grown-ass man.
He might not have meant to hurt you, but he did.
That little boy might’ve protected you, but the grown man has problems that even you can’t fix.
And you have to remember it’s not just you that you have to protect now. You have Judah.”
After Psalms left, I sat on my back porch, waiting on the lights at Uri’s house to come on.
Judah was staying with Cross and Nine for the night.
He and Deuce had no idea what went on, and we wanted to keep it that way.
I decided to tell him I’d had an accident and hurt my hand.
There was no way I was going to tarnish Uri’s reputation with Judah.
It may have sounded dumb, but I knew that he would never hurt Judah.
Hours passed, the sun eventually started to come up, and Uri’s lights never came on.
Sighing, I finally gave up and went into the house.
I grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, curled up on the corner of the couch, and closed my eyes.
For the first time in weeks, I didn’t have a dream.