Something She Can Feel

Just after I called her name the second time, the car scurried up the road and I looked to see that the light in front of us changed.

“You know her?” Dame asked, taking off behind May.

“She’s my sister-in-law. Could you catch up?”

Dame sat up in his seat and pushed the gas as we chased the tail of the Buick. May was swerving slightly and then she ran a red light. Dame, without so much as blinking, followed suit, and a block later I was poking my head out the window hollering out, “May!”

If it was anyone else at any other time of day, I might have thought it was better to mind my own business. But May? Something had to be wrong, and whatever it was, May was leading us to it.

“You know where she’s going?” Dame asked.

“No clue. It’s just not like her,” I said as we hit a bump and the seat bounced me up in the air.

“Does she live on the east side?” Dame asked, and I realized that was where we were headed. It was the neighborhood I grew up in. While we’d moved to another side of Tuscaloosa when I was in middle school, we still kept the old, three-bedroom house and Jr rented it out to church members in need of low-cost housing. May turned onto the avenue that led to that house.

“No,” I said, cautiously reaching for my cell phone now. “She lives north of the river.... I think I need to call my brother.... Tell him what’s going on.”

“I think he’s about to find out.”

“May!” I screamed out the window again. “Why is she coming here?”

When we turned onto the street that led to the cul-de-sac where the three-bedroom house was that I’d grown up in, I knew why May was headed there.

Jethro Jr’s new Buick was sitting in the driveway of the old house. Lights off. No Jr in sight. It was 1:30 a. m.

“That’s your—”

“My brother’s car,” I finished Dame’s thought as we pulled up behind May’s stopped car in the middle of the cul-de-sac.

“He lives here?”

“No,” I whispered as if the night would hear me. I wasn’t sure what I’d stumbled upon at that stoplight, but now I was certain it wasn’t good.

“Ooooohhhh.” Dame gritted his teeth and gave a shrug of innocence.

May’s car just sat there silent and dark in the middle of the cul-de-sac. Suddenly, I realized I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be. But I knew May needed me there.

“Look, I’m going to talk to her,” I said to Dame as I gathered my things and slipped on my abandoned shoe. “You can go.”

“You sure? What about your car?”

“I’ll get home.... I just feel like I need to handle this ... alone. And I can’t let them see—”

“No need to explain,” Dame said, turning the truck back on. “I’ll just catch you in the breeze.”

“Sure.” I smiled nervously and slid out of the truck.

“May, are you okay?” I asked after approaching the car when Dame had left. “I was in that truck ... calling you.”

“I need to get my husband,” she said caustically. Both of her hands were still on the wheel.

“He’s in the house? Did you two have a fight?”

“I need to get my husband,” she repeated and I noticed that while her voice was cracking not one tear was in her e

yes now. Her Bible, the one she always carried with the red leather cover case, was sitting on the seat beside her. It was open.

“May, I can tell you’re very upset,” I said, feeling my heart begin to race. I wanted to ask her why Jr was in the house again, but I knew I shouldn’t. I was afraid of what might happen next. “I think maybe I can go get him from the house. Do you want me to do that?”