I flip a page of my math book, preparing my math paper for the next problem. The book wobbles on my knee as I try to balance it and my binder. I scratch down the next problem, my brain at work.
Auntie and Uncle Reed went out tonight, so I am left with Judy. For those who don’t know, Judy is my sister who is a mini-Auntie Reed (or thinks she is). All she does is boss me around, threatening me if I tell. When my guardians are gone, she thinks she has full control and can do whatever she feels like all because she is three years older than me, making her fifteen. Whoop-dee-do.
I manage to solve number seventeen of my math homework as Judy walks in, blonde curls bouncing. It makes me gag. Behind her are her followers. Her “friends” that are really the method to her madness.
“Go.” Judy doesn’t even glance at me.
“It’s nine o’clock. You can’t expect me to leave. What if I get kidnapped?” I shut my book.
“Well, don’t let it happen!” Judy says in her southern bell accent.
“Fine, if I get kidnapped, it’s on you!” I yell right back.
I am at the door when Judy grabs my arm. “You ain’t gonna tell now are ya?”
My glower burns into her forehead, but she doesn’t waver.
“I know about your recent math test. I know that’s why you’ve been workin’ so hard... Also the fact that Aunt and Uncle have no clue about it neither.”
Cruelty. Just plain and simple child cruelty.
I pull away from Judy’s grip in a blink of an eye and slam the door. Behind me, the followers start laughing. One day... I know that Auntie Reed strongly dislikes her friends, but Judy doesn’t listen at all. She thinks she is old enough to make her own decisions.
My bike is leaning against the house. The bright red of it standing out against the white paint on the wood. I wiggle it out of the weeds and hook my leg around it. At first, I have trouble peddling until I reach the gravel.
Everything around me is pitch black, not a single speck of light casting through. The moon is the only thing that gives me enough light to see, giving everything an eerie glow. Something darts across the road, and I stop, nearly flying over the handlebars. Just a rabbit... I keep going, listening to the gentle sway of the trees.
The humid southern air never really does let up, but at least it isn’t cold. To my left are rows of cotton fields, all covered with little dabbles of white. To my right, a ditch and an embankment that leads to trees. Up ahead, I can see the lights of the town.
Right at the edge of town, I hear muffled voices. One sounds like it is in pain. I stop my bike and slowly scoot off. The gravel shifts under my weight as I walk towards it, trying to stay quiet. My red Schwin bike clicks with each wheel rotation.
In the darkness, I can see two silhouettes against the already black, brick wall of a bar. One throws a fist at the other, sending the other into the wall. A small street lamp casts a light onto the ground. The attacker steps into it. Darrell? Darrell, my brother. My drunk brother. My drunk brother who I look very much alike. He never is home, always in bars. When he is home, he really isn’t my brother. He is just the leftovers of him.
“Darrell?” I choke out, my voice quivering.
Darrell turns his attention away, cuts on his hands. The broken glass from a beer bottle glistens, like stars do in the night sky. The victim lays on the ground, breathing ragged, blood on his clothes and ground.
“Langston? What’re you doin’ here? You should be home.” Darrell stumbles slightly to me, every move dramatic.
I step back, scared of my own brother. What will he do to me? Will he beat me up now?
“Langston, it’s alright. Jus’ got in a little tussle. Sure showed him, di’n’t I?” Darrell leans on the wall, unable to stay balanced.
“What if you get caught?” I ask, still unable to get my brain to function and fully understand my brother could have been killing someone.
“Don’ worry ‘bout it. Jus’ go on home. I don’ want you in trouble. If anyone asks, say you didn’t see nothin’. Got it?” Darrell grips my handlebars. I can smell the beer. I feel sick.
I nod my head and fumble out, “Ye-yeah, I got it.” Darrell lifts his hands off my bike, blood dried in little spots are leftover.
Darrell says, “Now go on. I will be home soon.”
I turn my bike around and start peddling as fast as I ever had. I have to get away from him. Have to. I can’t lie. I can’t. How can I lie when I don’t like to be lied too? I suck at lying anyway, it’s a miracle that I’ve lied about my math test. But a fight?
The shadows blur by me, all blending together into a big pit of blackness. I keep scanning the trees for anyone who may know what I know. Anyone out to get me for what I will have to do to protect my brother. Does he really deserve it, though? He is my brother and all, but I can’t see how he deserves it.
My legs begin to burn and ache as I turn into the driveway, gravel flying up. I lean my bike against the house and rush inside, my throat itching for water. Judy yells from the other room, “I thought I tol’ you to stay gone!”
I find my glass of water I had earlier and gulp it down. “I guess you didn’t make that too clear, now did ya?”
I hear her groan in annoyance. My lips curl up in my success.
Still paranoid, I grab my books and seek salvation in my room. If I’m in my room, I am safe. I crawl into my bed, day clothes still on, and pull the covers to my chin. What if Auntie Reed finds out... I will get in trouble If I tell, maybe I will get a warning about lying, or maybe nothing at all. Darrell though, he will get into loads of trouble. Will the police get involved? What if they do?
I continue thinking the same thoughts over and over like the are on a constant replay. Somehow, I manage to close my eyes and find sleep.
“Langston... Langston. Wake up.” Auntie Reed shakes my shoulder.
I twist up, Auntie Reed looking worried. “What time is it?” I ask.
“I’m sorry to wake you, but there are some people here who want to ask you some questions.” Auntie Reed helps me out of bed.
My heart goes into a rapid panic mode, the beat like when you put a card in the spokes of your bike. Click-click-click... In the living room, two police officers stand, serious expressions plastered on their faces. My heart pumps even faster.
“This is Langston. He is willing to answer questions if needed,” Auntie Reed says.
What? I said no such thing!
Uncle Reed is sitting in his chair, furiousness covering his face.
“What’s this about?” I ask, cautious about my wording just in case I hint something. My cheeks are starting to warm.
“Supposedly your brother got into a fight last night and seriously injured a man,” Auntie Reed says.
Act dumb...
“Where were you last night around nine o’clock?” One of the officers asks.
“I was, uh, riding my bike, sir,” I say. Okay, not a lie. I can do this.
I see Judy in the chair now, a look I have never seen on her. Worry.
“What’s the blood on your hands?” The other asks.
Oh no. I look at my hands and see the dried blood. The blood from the handlebars. I forgot to wash them when I got home. I look up at the two officers, unsure of how to answer. My family’s eyes are locked on me. In the driveway, Darrell sits in the back of the police car, looking through the door.
“Son, how did you get that blood on your hands?”
Well, hope you found it interesting.
READ ON.
