Page 32 of Small Town Beast 2: Saverin's Duet

When Amari’s Granny left, the white lady set the dogs loose. They ran all over the yard in circles. They ran all day long and didn’t seem to get tired. Three times a day, the white lady brought them food: whole chickens from the grocery store, the kind Mama used to get for dinner. The dogs shredded those chickens in seconds, then turned on each other for the scraps. They slashed and tore and barked and dragged each other all around the yard until the lady came out with something that sent them scurrying back to their kennels with their tails down.

Amari didn’t look outside the window much.

Inside “his” room there were toys, all broken, and covered in tooth marks. He didn’t want to play with those. There was also a red ball, which bounced very high. Amari spent many hours rolling it side to side across the room. Sometimes he threw it at the wall as hard as he could. Nobody told him to stop. After two days he could catch the ball at any speed.

Granny never came back. The lady came twice a day to bring him breakfast and lunch. No dinner. Lunch was always a ham sandwich, and breakfast was grits. Plus a cup of orange juice,which made him sleepy. Every time she brought food, Amari asked the same question.

“Can I see my mom?”

“Your Mama ain’t here yet,” the woman said.Yet? Did that mean Mama was coming soon? It didn’t make sense. Why would Mama let him be locked in this room all day long with nothing to eat but grits and a ham sandwich, and nobody to talk to, with this mean old lady and her dogs? What about school? They were supposed to have Show and Tell on the first day of school. What if he didn’t get to go back to school? He’d never get to show the class his stuffed dog, Mr. Spaceman.

Amari was bored of the ball. He slept a lot now.

One night he had a bad, bad dream. He woke up alone, his pants wet and smelling like pee. He would never see Mama again. The room was dark and scary. Something horrible was going to happen. He heard one of the dogs under the window, panting and scratching. Could it dig its way inside the room?

Amari couldn’t move or breathe. The evil dog wouldn’t stop digging. It would come inside and eat him up, crack him open like a whole chicken. He wanted his mommy. Mr. Spaceman…Anybody…

The white lady brought grits the same time the next morning. She laughed at his face. “Still missin’ your mommy? Well, she ain’t coming today, either.”

Hatred burst inside him. Amari kicked her in the leg as hard as he could and bolted for the door. Not fast enough. The white lady caught him, and twisted his ear so hard she lifted him off the ground. His ear wentpop. Pain stabbed through his head. He howled.

The lady hissed, “I guess you want me to feed you to the dogs?”

“No! No,” he screamed.

“Then don’t act up, or I will, like I did the last little girl that was in here.”

She took away the orange juice, and the ball. He could barely sleep. It was the worst thing that had happened to him.

That next day Amari woke up to the same room, no ball, nothing. He didn’t get out of bed. He just stared at the wall. He tried to think of a Plan. Not a stupid plan, like yesterday. No, it was going to be a Good Plan.

The dogs started to howl. Amari shuddered and covered his ears.

Impossible, his daddy’s voice said.There is no Good Plan.

Suddenly he heard the front door open, and theclick clickof somebody’s shoes walking on the floorboards, with theklunk klunkof the ugly lady’s footsteps.

“Is he in here?” came a lemons-and-syrup voice.

“Yeah, he’s in there,” answered Amari’s enemy.Janglejanglewent the keys, a sound Amari knew well. He sat up in the bed.

The door opened and a tall, blonde lady stepped into the room. Amari had never seen her before. This lady wore high heels and a flowery blue dress. She had on red lipstick. Sunglasses. She smelled like outside, a smell Amari had almost forgotten.

“It stinks in here,” the woman said.

“He peed hisself,” answered the mean lady. Amari hung his head. Heneverwet the bed. He wasn’t a baby.

“He wets the bed?” the pretty lady asked sharply.

“Not always.”

“You didn’t tell me he was so old.”

“Old? Naw, Sister Kate, he ain’t old.” Amari’s kidnapper laughed. She was scared of the new lady. She called her “Sister Kate”. Were they reallysisters? The ugly lady moved from one foot to the other as the pretty lady tapped her foot. “I mean, he ain’t more than five…”

“We wanted a three-year old,” said the pretty lady. “Sister Cyrie thinks I don’t know the difference? What about his mother?”

“Drug addict,” answered the ugly lady quickly. “Sold him for a fix.”

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