Page 19 of Tempting Eden

I winked. “I’ll be back.”

Helen had already turned and started leading me back to our apartment. No longer in the shade offered by the stoop, the hot sun made the humid air feel like a smothering blanket. Bugs ticked and hummed in the high grass between the government projects. The city rarely came out here to cut it, claimed it was too dangerous. Too many guns, too many deaths. Pussies.

The brown brick townhouses crumbled, some completely burned out and home to various drifters, addicts, and prostitutes. I tried to stay away from any hard drugs, even though they were everywhere. Smoking a blunt every so often never hurt anyone, though.

I sped my pace and scooped Helen up in my arms. She squeaked. She was small for a nine-year-old, all legs and elbows. I threw her slight frame over my shoulder. Compared to her, I was a grown-ass man and taller than all the other kids my age.

“Put me down!”

“Why? I wish someone would carry me around.”

I tickled her skinny sides. She squirmed on my shoulder, laughing and trying to kick out of my hold. I walked the two blocks back to our apartment, identical to Trinia’s in every way, right down to the cracking brick and rotting window sills.

The only exception was Helen’s little flower garden next to the front door. She planted these throwaway sort of flowers there. She’d gotten a bunch of dead flower heads from one of the old ladies down the way. Helen had been so excited. In the spring, she dug around in the dirt with a big spoon she’d snuck from the kitchen. We’d crumbled up the flower heads, like the old ladies told Helen to do, and stirred them around in the dirt. I wasn’t hopeful. It looked like a mess, especially after we doused it with water, but Helen was certain. She smiled, her crooked bottom teeth showing, and watched the patch of red dirt whenever she had a spare moment. I didn’t have the patience to sit and wait for something to grow. I was too busy hustling the girls or hanging out with my boys.

Helen never gave up, and eventually, she was rewarded. Tiny two-leaved stems shot up in only a few days. She watered the patch religiously until the stalks grew and grew, their leaves even greener than the high grass.

They bloomed easy, even in the heat and the shitty earth that surrounded Lowood.

The plants were in the prime of flowerhood that day, big pompom-looking blooms in bright pinks and reds. Helen’s pride and joy.

I plopped the girl down on the stoop. I figured I’d wait around outside, see if Mama Reed would calm down, maybe even forget what she was mad at me about.

Mama Reed burst out the door, nearly knocking Helen over into her precious garden. The woman wore a shapeless flowery dress and house slippers, as if it were a uniform. Her hair was cropped short to make her wigs—worn every Sunday to church—fit better.

“Where have you been? I found this in your room!” She held out the pistol I’d bought from another boy down the street.

“Jesus, Mama Reed, give me that.”

She smacked me across the face. “Don’t you take the Lord’s name in vain, Jacquarius England!”

I held out my hand for the gun. She put it behind her back. “No, sir. This is going in the garbage. When Mr. Reed gets home, I don’t know what he’s going to do with you. I hope he puts the fear of the Lord in you, Jack England. Because if you don’t get that fear into your heart, your soul is going to be damned to burn in the eternal flames.” She looked up to the sweltering heavens. “I swear, I swear, IswearI try to teach this boy to do right and follow Your ways. He won’t listen. He is willful. He is ignorant. He is ungrateful!”

Helen covered her ears as Mama Reed’s sermon reached its fever pitch.

“That was fifty dollars. Give it back.” I met her eye and kept my hand out. I thought about just taking it from her. I could. I was big enough. I could knock her down and take it. She would scream. I wouldn’t care. No one would come. Not around here. I could just take it and run.

I took a step toward her and saw fear flash across her face.Good. “Bitch, I said give it here.”

I wanted her to be scared. I didn’t have to listen to her, to do what she said. She was nothing to me, no one was, not blood, not even a friend. If I was going to burn in hell, then I was certain she’d be down there roasting with me.

She wasn’t going to take anything else from me. I’d made up my mind to slap her back and take what was mine. I raised my hand.

Helen edged closer to me. I snapped out of it, though I barely restrained myself. I couldn’t do it, not in front of Helen.

Mama Reed cringed when she saw me raise my hand but grew even angrier when I dropped it back down to my side. She slapped me again, harder this time. She sputtered, spit flying from her mouth. I’d seen her blow up before, but never like this.

The train rumbled by a couple of blocks away, giving her voice a backdrop of mechanical clanking and screeches. She didn’t stop, her onslaught of anger and disappointment continuing for what felt like minutes. One more hard slap made my ears ring, and then she retreated into the apartment and slammed the door behind her.

“What’s wrong with you?” Helen’s voice was tiny, small even for her.

She was looking at me with the same fear I’d wanted to instill in Mama Reed. Tears welled, making her brown irises swim.

My anger cooled to remorse in an instant. Still, I wasn’t sorry for wanting to hurt Mama Reed, I still did. I was only sorry Helen saw it.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just got mad is all. I’m fine.” The last thing I wanted was for Helen to be afraid of me. I’d do anything for her. I’d taken beatings for her in the past, dished out by Mama and Papa Reed. She was my sister, even if we didn’t share the same blood. She was the only person I cared about. Maybe even more than myself. “Don’t cry, Helly, I’m sorry.”

I held out my arms and she came to me, letting me bring her in tight. Her head fit under my chin, tucked in there. I smelled the coconut oil in her hair, sweet and familiar.

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