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Kat was fretting over the bandages but smiling at the
report the harvesters’ nurse whispered.
Her kid was alive and would stay that way; but for the
love o’ Mike, hide him.
Benny coughed and scowled. Sue was sitting with the
razor open.
“Don’t be a total jerk, y’ know?” he said.
“Fer crying out loud. I’m here.”
She glanced up and tears rolled down her face.
“Reckon I got you, at any rate. Thank you.”
Mrs. Penn sat to tea with several people from the
warrens and slums around her ‘palace.’ She poured while listening to their
troubles.
More than one stopped speaking, looking away.
“What, friends?” She glanced over them. Each was a
respected elder from a different part of North Philly. “Why this silence?”
“Well . . . " An old man, a Mr. Oldham, sipped
his tea. The others gave him silent urges. “OK, Ok, I’m a-getting to it.”
He looked at Mrs. Penn. “Honey, you all knows we loyal. We don’t muss nor
fuss when we’re needed. But . . . well.”
His gaze dropped, and Oldham sighed.
Mrs. Penn lay a hand on his knee, murmuring, “Out
with it, man.”
“Looky, that Sue gal, she a good friend. She from my
neck o’ the woods, and that makes her like fam. Living so close to the border,
we got a lot o’ trash coming in. Mean folks. Poms like the judge an’ all
–“
Several people nodded, muttering at him in agreement.
“Yeah . . . and that kid, well, this is gonna cause
a lot o’ problems, her being taken and abused –“
“She is not being abused.”
“Well, mayhap. But old Maggie say she dying. Maggie
is her kin. And that boy, Angelo. He sayin’ the
same, ma’am.” Oldham lapsed into an embarrassed silence.
Aloè frowned. She offered a plate of small cakes
around, but none looked at her.
Setting them down, she said, “I see, I think. You
believe she’s a prisoner.”
“Ain’t sayin’, ma’am,” Oldham said. “Just,
well, Maggie, she watches the girl in her dreams.”
“Angelo, too,” another said.
With a small flash of annoyance for the man, Oldham
looked at Aloè.
“Miz Penn, this is a bad situation. Folks are
talking scared. If he steal a young gal, who is safe?”
Voice brittle, Aloè said, “He did not –“
Sirens screamed, and even Benny was startled.
Rising, Aloè set the delicate eggshell porcelain cup
to one side.
“In here.” She clapped her hands, and a wall panel
opened. “Come, the blasted police are raiding again, or the harvesters. Hurry
now. This is always the first place they attack.”
An explosion rattled the room, and the elders rushed
after her. As the last passed, she closed the panel, only to open it to stare at
the figure of a naked, snarling man that just barely showed through the plaster
dust.
Oldham peeked out.
“Don’t be scared, honey. Maggie say he Sue’s
guardian or some such.”
Taking Aloè by one cold hand, he led her into a
narrow hall and closed the door.
Benny heard him muttering, “She a-sayin’ you got
the good spirits all riled over Sue. Sue is his and he hers and . . ." The
voice faded beyond hearing.
Benny
shot up through the ceiling and five yards of concrete, rubble, and dirt to a
small park-like garden that lay in ruins. Bombs dropped around him while birds
and rabbits tried to find cover. A line of men in SWAT uniforms darted through
the streets, only to be picked off by raggedly dressed soldiers.
A lot of Penn’s soldiers were dying, but the SWAT
teams broke and faded back. The bombs stopped, and a chill wind carried away the
dust.
Benny glanced up, at a haze of sun that showed through
the clouds.
“You wanted war against the dark. Now you got it.”
Sue moved out onto the street with the boots feeling
stiff and unnatural on her feet. The socks were thick alpaca flannel, the Apache
boots doeskin soled with bull hide, but comfortable. A sheepskin winter coat was
snuggle-warm and heavy across her shoulders.
A slight movement showed down the street and she
stilled, fingering the razor in her pocket. Armed with boards, bricks, rocks,
glass, spears, knives, and guns, a pack of people came from each direction.
Dry heaves and a wave of pain made her sag against the
splintering doorframe.
“Girl?” A woman broke from the people and raced to
her.
Sue screamed, “Gert?” She squealed a laugh and
raced down to the tall woman. A mob surrounded her laugh and trying just to
touch her.
In Gert’s ear, Sue whispered, “Amy. She’s dead.
Must have ODed. Is Ama OK?”
“She’s fine. Worried about you is all. She went to
the TGs, and they told her where you were.”
Benny stumbled out of the crumbling front of the
housing block. What was behind him might be a paradise of silk and hot water,
but it was still a prison. A cage. He glared at the people around Sue, and his
hands fumbled at his sides, seeking pockets to be thrust in. A few men moved out
of empty holes that once were doors.
Drifting through the crowd, he whispered in her ear,
“Ain’t too freekin healthy here.”
She pulled out of a forest of hugs and kisses, and
grabbed Gert’s hand.
“Let’s get it gone.”
People moved in a body up the street with Sue
carefully in the middle. A head taller than most of the adults, Angelo stopped,
staring at Benny.
“Ghost, you be dead. Move on to the next world and
leave us at peace.”
With a cold scowl, Benny flipped him the bird before
trailing after Sue.
Angelo stiffened. He pulled out a piece of bone, then
saw a dark shadow that held the shape of an owl that hissed and snapped a look
at the ghost.
“Bad times a-coming, man,” he whispered, letting
the bone drop back in his pocket. A tall being dressed in flaming robes and
burning hair and eyes glanced at him, winked, and smacked the owl-shape away.
Angelo frowned at the being, then at Benny.
“Un salvador
guerrero, a warrior from God, ay.”
The ghost was alive, somewhere, and sent to help. He walked forward and saw the
ghost was near Sue, watching her, concerned and near to tears as she stumbled,
the black clouds of pain the only color of her spirit.
He dropped back and smiled to himself.
La santa marrida.
She was the bride chosen by Creator-Mother for the ghost. Together, they would
battle as a mated pair of wolves and all of Hell would scream in terror, Amen.
Bloody foam dripping from snapping jaws, a rat jumped
out, staggering at him. Angelo snapped his fingers, and it died. A deep, gravel
laugh began in his chest and muttered from his mouth. Mexico. He had to return
to that spirit-torn land and let certain peoples know the war was at hand.
Benny stood as a shadow in the shadows, feigning
boredom. Sue was in her room and shoving clothes in a sack, while Ama sat on the
edge of the bed staring with dull eyes and a smile painted on her gray face.
“I ain’t coming back, Mama.” She tied the sack
with a piece of string and reached over to hug Mama. “OK?” She looked for
the beginnings of withdrawal in the slack face. At Ama’s age, it would kill
her.
The smile deepened. Ama patted Sue’s cheek.
“I be just fine, daughter,” she whispered. Ama
pushed herself up from the bed. She pushed Sue out of the room to the kitchen.
“Get it gone. JJ be back soon as he runs out of mon–”
The door slammed open and a sober, terrified JJ
staggered in. Seeing Sue, he choked back a sob.
“See?” he shouted over one shoulder. “Told ya I
didn’t sell her.”
Judge Harrison stepped through the door holding the
ends of his raccoon skin coat away from any surface, and tapped the slush from
his Gucci winter boots. He tugged off a pair of silk mittens to caress Sue’s
face where Ama only a few moments ago gave her a mother’s gentle touch of
love.
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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