Imani All Mine (21 page)

Maybe all them stars hanging under heaven is answers to questions asked in heaven. All the things can't nobody understand on Earth. That's why there's so many of them. Maybe God hisself hung a star up there to answer Imani. Maybe he showed his face to her. Looked at her with eyes that looked like they had love in them. Eyes that held her right in they center so he could explain why June Bug had to be at Miss Odetta house like he was. Why he had been staying there for three days when he wasn't even living there no more. I know Mama know. Every cat and dog on the street know whoever shot Imani was gunning for June Bug. If they wasn't, why the next day was he not only gone, but Miss Odetta too? Why, when the sun was big and bold and bright up in the sky, was there a truck backed up right to they front door?

Miss Odetta had just left our house that night. Imani was napping on the couch when she come, so I took my baby upstairs. I ain't take her back to our room. I put her down in Mama room, right on the floor, and closed the door quiet behind her. Then I started cleaning up the kitchen. I was still in there doing the dishes when Miss Odetta left. I was looking out the window. The sky was pretty. It wasn't all the way black. A curve of blue stretched along the top of it above the tops of the dark trees. I was all happy, because school was ending the next day. I'd finished all my exams. Mr. Toliver had even pulled me aside the day before to tell me he had looked at my exam real quick and that I'd done real good. Which meant I would probably get a C for the year. It wasn't a grade he was just giving me. I'd earned it. While I finished the last few dishes, I was thinking all I was going to have to do the next day was turn in my books and clean out my locker. I ain't know if I was going to take Imani with me. It was only going to be a half day.

Mama come into the kitchen then with a dirty ashtray and some glasses and I ask her if I could leave Imani home the next day. Mama say I could.

Right then I was thinking I should go check on Imani. Maybe she was woke. She couldn't get out the room. I went to the bottom of the steps to listen. It was quiet. Nothing but quiet over me, and I should've gone to it. I should've been drawn to it like a vacuum. But I was going up in just a few minutes anyway. All I had was a little bit more dishes to do. What's a few minutes? I was thinking. She sleeping.

And see, Jesus. Why couldn't you look out for me? For Imani when that car turned up our street. Why you let me go back to the sink and scrape some old dried milk out the bottom of Imani bottle with a knife? And let Mama sit down at the table and drink a Pepsi? When you knew that car was coming down our street. That somebody in it had a gun. A nine millimeter. Automatic. And was coming for June Bug.

I was just going to be a few minutes. But, Jesus, why ain't you open up your two lips to say something? Just this one time. Why couldn't you speak to me direct? Instead of sitting back and watch everything happen like it was a movie. Just watching. When you knew my baby was fenna die.

Maybe a star might be enough for my baby. Maybe it can hold the answers to her questions, and she can look down and see it lit up, so she ain't got to ask no more. So she ain't got to bother nobody with her questions. Imani still young. But I got more questions than even God could answer with a whole sky filled with stars. With a whole galaxy. It'll take God, take Jesus, all the time there ever was, there ever will be, to explain why my baby had to die like that when I'm the one to blame.

When the night's deep. When I been at the bottom of the dark too long, I know Imani ain't die because I put her in Mama room that night. She died because of me, because of me wishing what I did on her birthday. I wished that God would punish
him
. I wished him dead. And now God's punished me.

Derrick Givens. That's his name. Now I can say it in my mind. Taste it in my mouth without having to spit. I can lay next to Mama and cry in the night, saying his name in my mind with another wish in my mouth. Asking Jesus. Telling Jesus. I take it back.

I ain't really want for Derrick to die. I just wanted him gone from my mind. Clean gone. Clear gone. Like my mind that of a baby. Just to not have him be part of Imani life.

I ask Jesus. I say, Jesus, I wish I could go back in time. Let me go back. Let me be the one to die. I'm the one should've been killed. Not my baby. Let me have just one minute to go up them steps. To go into the vacuum of silence and never come back out. Send that car back to the top of the street and let me be up in Mama room with Imani where I can see the car coming. Quiet. With the lights turned off and the music turned off. Moving like a piece of the night. Moving like a animal. A monster coming for me. I would know. I'd recognize it. See what was coming, and push Imani down. Because the police say she was probably at the window. She'd climbed up on the bed and must've been looking out the window. My baby always wanted to see out into this world like there was something for her to see. But, Jesus, I can see in my mind nights. With my eyes turned in, I can see me in Mama room that night. See me knock Imani down. Knock her down so hard I take the breath from her. Just for a minute. So she not hit by the bullet that come through Mama window. Or by the two that come through the living room window. The three that hit the front door. Let one of them hit me. Take me out the world. And I will go without a sound.

But Jesus act like he don't hear me. He just leave me stuck with that night. How things really happened.

Miss Odetta house got hit first. I heard a shot that sounded like it was out the back, over round the way where Peanut live, and I looked out the dark window and thought of him real quick. Hoping he was down his basement. Then I heard another and another real quick. Pop pop. Like firecrackers. I turned to look at Mama just as our living room window was hit. Oh, God, no! Mama screamed. Get down, Tasha!

All I could think about was Imani. My feet took off running. Automatic. My feet carried me into the living room. I called out her name while Mama was screaming behind me and bullets steady hitting our house. Glass was breaking, and I called out for Imani again. Imani, answer me! She ain't answer and my feet moved faster. Taking the steps two at a time. Three at a time. By the time I got to the top, the bullets stopped, and for a few seconds there was nothing but quiet. I ain't pray. I should've started asking you, Jesus, right then. Before I run into Mama room.

The lights was off and I ain't even see Imani down on the floor where I put her. Her blanket was there. I had to turn on the lights to see her. Face down. On the floor over by the dresser. Blood blood blood was pouring from her, so much the rug was wet under her. So much that I ain't see at first. For a second. For a minute. I don't know. But I didn't see that the top of her head was gone. Just gone. Bone and brain. Just gone. There was a hole there. Pulsing with blood. Filling with blood that spilled out onto the rug. I should've prayed then to you, Jesus. Because I fell right to my knees. Screaming. Filling up all the air in the house. I should've stayed right by Imani side. Give her CPR. I remembered what Mrs. Poole taught about saving a baby life. How to cover the nose. How to breathe into the mouth. How to count. How to pump the chest. Gentle but firm. But I knew none of that wasn't going to do no good. I knew right then. When I seen her brain. Imani was dead, and I couldn't stay in that room. Stay in the house.

I took off running. Down them steps. Knocking Mama out the way who was on her way up. Slamming her into the wall while she tried to hold on to me. Saying, God, no! Oh, please God, no. Tasha. Mama say while I was out the door and into the night. No shoes. Just in my sweats. Running like I was crazy. Running like I was wild. My braids flying all around me. Running past Miss Odetta heading for our house in her housecoat. Running past June Bug jumping in his car. My mouth still screaming. Screaming. Screaming. Filling up all the air in the street. All the air in the world. Telling everybody all the way from here to heaven that Imani was dead. I kept on running. Out in the middle of the street. Like I was in a dream. Not even knowing where I was going. I kept running while June Bug flew past me in his car. While I was steady screaming. Telling all the birds in the wilderness. Hiding in the dark. In the trees. Calling them all to me. I kept on running to the end of the block. Thinking if I kept going, if I kept running, I could get out this nightmare. That's what it had to be, and I was trapped inside. Maybe Mama could find me deep inside this dream, deep inside this night, and come light the way out.

Because nothing was real to me. The people on our street. Moving past me. Going the other way. Running the other way. Calling to me. Reaching out they hands to me. Like they was ghosts. Like they was shadows haunting me. It was like I ain't know none of them. I couldn't put a face to none of them. A name to none of them. They wasn't at all real. I just had to keep running. Down our street that was getting darker. Long like some tunnel I was closed inside of. It stretched out longer in front of me the faster I run. But I knew as long as I kept going, Imani would be alive, laying next to me in my bed.

 

I had got to the end of the street when I passed out. I don't remember even doing it. I was just running. Then I was in the grass of the lady yard who keep her cockeye grandson. Laying in a pile of weeds. Looking up at red and blue lights circling in the dark and faces crowded around me. Sirens was going off all over the place. Somebody say for everybody to get back so I could breathe. I could breathe. And that little boy come and threw a pot of cold water in my face. His grandma slapped him. I don't know how long I was out for. A second. A minute.

I don't know what happened to the time. What happen to time when you slip out of it? Where do it go? Did my Imani slip right out of the world without even knowing what happened? Without any pain?

I sat up and tried to get up. But that old lady say I shouldn't, because one of my feet was cut bad. Cut deep. I don't know when I cut it. How I cut it. It ain't hurt, not one bit. I got up anyway, not sure where to go, when I seen Mama push into the crowd. Push her face right where I could see it. There wasn't no reason for me to run no more. Mama was there, and I knew I wasn't dreaming. I could see on her face. Kin to mine, wild like mine, that everything happening was real.

She say, Tasha, Imani going to be all right. A ambulance coming. She say that to me. Her clothes wet wet with blood. Her hands with blood on them. I could see it. Even in the dark. Wet and darker than the night. Mama had two cops with her. Real dark. Even in the night. Young like boys. But with strong hands like men. Big hands. One got me under one arm. And the other on the other. Mama was holding on to one arm too. Tight tight. She say, Imani arms and legs was moving. I seen for myself. That's good. She can still move. You got to be strong for Imani. She need you strong. You hear me?

I ain't say nothing. Not nam word. I guess the birds had swooped down on me when I was out, pecked my mouth clean. Mama dug her nails hard into my arm. I felt them enter me. Cut right into the flesh of me without no pain. Mama say again that I needed to be strong. It ain't make no difference what Mama say. I could feel Imani death all up inside of me. Heavy like lead.

Latin name,
Plumbum
. It had been on my Latin test that morning.

Mama say, You hear me, Tasha? I heard her. Them hands dragging me along. My feet hardly touching the ground. Three police cars was in front our house. They sat me in back of one of them. Cops was everywhere. Searching all around our house and Miss Odetta house with flashlights. A whole bunch of people. Faces I couldn't really see was gathered behind police tape. Roped behind it. Blue and red lights showing me who they was and then hiding they faces in the night. Watching me. Watching Mama. Like we was in some kind of show. Look like all the lights was on in our house and I could see heads behind the curtains of Mama room. Moving like ghosts.

Mama was trying to get inside, but they wouldn't let her. She say, I want to see my baby. But they say she couldn't go back in. A ambulance was coming. The biggest cop who helped me home, the darkest one, told me his name. Which went right in and out my head. He took hold of one of my hands and kept talking. I seen then he had on gloves. The kind you wear when you giving a relaxer. He was telling me everything was going to be all right. He say wasn't no need to tell me not to worry. Because he'd worry if he was me. But he say he praying for help. He ask if I want to pray with him. I ain't think he was supposed to even ask me that.

I should've prayed to you then, Jesus. I don't know if he started praying to hisself. I started shaking. More and more. I ain't really feel cold. But I couldn't stop shaking, and he started looking around like my shaking was making him nervous. He kneeled down right by the open door of the car and took both my hands in his. I kept right on shaking. He ain't let go until the ambulance come screaming up the street, and he went away.

All the attendants ran inside and a white man who I think say he was a detective come over to talk to me. I was looking up at Mama window. At all the people inside. Moving around like shadows. The detective say he just want to ask me some questions. What I seen. Who I think could've done the shooting and why. Did I know anybody who owned a dark Trooper. Mama was standing by the car. She had on clothes I never seen before. I guess somebody give them to her to wear. Mama looked over at the crowd. Then she wasn't there. I heard somebody scream. Hey, hey! Stop her! I tried to get up. The detective told me to sit down.

A cop tried to grab Mama. Mama was too quick. She seen what I seen. Miss Odetta. Mama flew up in the air and landed on top of Miss Odetta. They fell in the grass, and Mama got in some punches and kicks before a cop pulled her off. Still screaming. Still kicking. I'll kill you! Mama screamed. You goddamn bitch. It was you. Your son. Ya'll did this.

Miss Odetta say, Ya'll heard her threaten me. Ya'll heard her. I ain't done nothing. My child ain't done nothing. I'm pressing charges. Arrest her. Arrest her! She crazy, Miss Odetta was shrieking.