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Benny scrubbed the kitchen floor, moving slowly on his knees.
It would take a couple of passes, but where it wasn’t worn away, the pattern of
the linoleum showed through. Still it was getting there, and that added something
to its less than beautiful colors.
When that was done, he attacked the rest of the kitchen.
A light tap sounded on the door.
Edging to one side of it, Benny shouted, “Yeah?”
Barely muffled by the cracked panels, a woman said, “It’s
me, Maggie.”
Benny rasped a curse through bared teeth. “Beat it. We
don’t need no boiled toad.”
“If you don’t open this door, boy, I’ll –" There
was a slight pause, then a cold laugh. “I’ll tell your Grandmother Waya.”
Chilled to the bone, Benny said, “She’s dead.”
Another laugh, this one freezing. “Not in the world I walk.
And not in the one you get kicked out of by that wimpy guardian.”
Both Two Swords and ‘Heart snarled.
The doorknob rattled, then the bolt gave a small, rusted
squeak and snapped back. ‘Heart shuddered, and it was matched by Two Swords.
The door creaked open an inch. Benny leaped away from the
door. The guardian yelped and dropped through the floor.
Maggie pushed it the rest of the way open. Heavy sacks
dragged at her arms.
"A gentleman,” she said, scowling, “Would help with
this.”
Benny stepped close enough to smell ground coriander and took
the sacks. He turned, setting them on the table. It wobbled, but the legs seemed
strong enough despite the rust.
“You comin’ in,” Ama hollered. Angry and strong like
Benny had never seen her, she filled the door to the hall. “I put the kettle
on, if you want.”
“He don’t want me in.”
Benny shot her a cool look. “Suit yourself.”
The old women laughed, Ama’s soaring yet deep, Maggie’s
more a raven’s cackle.
She stepped in and paused to look over the kitchen.
“Been busy, Sis?”
Ama glanced over the kitchen, then did a double-take.
Benny glanced up into a warm smile and threw her a sullen
glare. Maggie stepped by, and he backed up, bumping into the table, and the sacks
rattled. A leg collapsed, and he snatched up the sacks before they followed the
table to the floor.
“What the freek?” he cried. “What’s this crap?”
Maggie peered in one. “Canned soy beef, eggs, soy milk, and
some other stuff. Gifts from the neighbors.” She winked, and Benny’s scowl
deepened.
“I don’t take charity.”
“It ain’t,” Maggie said, her voice calm and face easy,
but no smile.
“It’s for losers, and I ain’t no loser.” He thrust the
sacks at Maggie.
“And it ain’t charity when family gives.” Leaning close
enough Benny smelled the coffee she drank, she whispered, “O:tsi:Yu. Ha:wa?
Tsi:ge:Yu:i ni ogana shiest.” Listen to
the Spirit of love. Understand? This is of God, not some groundhog shit. Then
she raised a hand, signing for peace, but with a warning.
Benny turned away, bending to drop the sacks on the floor.
Maggie exclaimed, “Now, that’s what I call a
tushie! Man, I bet you could crack walnuts with them buns.” She gave a lewd
whistle, and Benny’s face flushed a sullen red.
©2004 StoriesByEmail.com
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