Yahweh. Jehovah.
I tasted blood on my tongue and shook within my frame, fisting my hands, yelling the names of different gods in my head, and hoping any one of them would appear.
Zeus. Allah.
“Wanting! Always wanting! And you don’t do nothing but eat and shit!”
Brahman. Shiva.
Thank all the gods for York, Mrs. Ellen, and Zola.
The first day I arrived at the Lawsons’s house to live there, I was so overjoyed to not be scared at night, to not fear another waking me up in the most violent ways. I knew they would be good. They’d treat me right.
One of the gods had answered my prayers.
I learned the rules. I memorized them. I did good in school. I washed, cleaned, and laundered, when no one asked me too. When York bitched about having to watch his whiney little sister, I volunteered instead. Because of that, Zola and I spent many days together during many summers, while York chased virgin tail. Barely fourteen years old by then, York had gone girl-crazy.
And when it came to Mrs. Ellen, I damn near stalked her, so happy to feel her love bathed on my skin—her smiles, her encouragement.
At times, the love felt too good. I had to run into my room, hide under my covers in the fetal position, and cry. Sometimes they just loved me too much, and it felt so goddamn amazing, as it vibrated through me and made my teeth clatter. I didn’t understand the new feelings, and I never knew what to do, but hide.
Then, Zuzu would come to my room and lay in my bed. Tears would cover her face. She would lay next to me, never touching or saying a word, yet her spirit calmed me. It refreshed me. And I would get back up without saying anything either and return to what we’d all been doing. And no one ever made me feel wrong for being so odd.
And so, I did my best to not break the rules—not lose their love.
The worst part about love is the possibility it could end. But a family would stay together forever. Right?
York, Mrs. Ellen, and even Zola had promised to always be there. Promised to love me. Promised to care for me. Promised and promised. Nothing could ever change the dynamic of us.
Even though I didn’t call or come around, I loved them fiercely. When I’d been in the military, I made sure Mrs. Ellen got a portion of my monthly wages even though she would never deposit the damn checks. A large amount of money still sat in my bank account waiting for her to one day ask me for something.
“Hunter?” Zola disrupted my thoughts. “Is that okay?”
I looked down at those soft fingers. I’d been gripping a pen hard and digging it in my skin. I stopped and looked at her. “Is what okay?”
“Is…” She had the goodness to not ask about the pen. “Uh…I was saying that I have to go to the party tonight because it’s in my contract. Personally, I would rather not be there either, but I signed up for it.”
“Why?”
“We’re selling cigarettes.”
I raised my eyebrows. “York’s schedule said the event was a rapper’s album release party.”
“Yeah, but it’s all about Natural Health cigarettes.”
“Did you say natural health and cigarettes in the same sentence?”
“Yes. It’s a new tobacco company that claims they have healthy cigarettes infused with vitamin and minerals that the body needs as well as—”
“This is real?”
“Yes.” She covered her face in shame. “They’re full of it. But Natural Health cigarettes are backing the rapper. And he is smoking Natural Health cigarettes in all his videos. He’s also on the movie soundtrack with Prayer for Dawn. Have you heard of it?”
“No.”
“It’s a high budgeted action flick, all about this community being destroyed by a corrupt sheriff and this new guy comes in and kicks butt. He saves the community and falls in love. The hero is Big Buck.”
“Zuzu, why would I care about the movie or Big Buck?”
“Because Big Buck also smokes Natural Health cigarettes the whole time in the movie because Big Buck is cool, and Trigger is cool.” She winked and did a mocking impression. “So, why not have Natural Health today?”
“That’s stupid.”
“It is.”
“And how are you a part of this?”
“I’m the model in Trigger’s upcoming video where he, everyone else, and I will be smoking Natural Health cigarettes to his music…in some mansion…with other half-naked women.”
“A mansion? Naked women? And all in a rap video?” I frowned. “Sounds like a fresh and unique idea that’s never been done in hip hop.”
“I’m noting your sarcasm.” She sighed. “Either way, the video is linked to the album release which is linked to the movie and the designer pocket books.”
I blinked. “Wait a minute. How did we get to pocket books? I thought we were talking about vitamin cigarettes and rappers?”