Page 7 of The Perfect Verse
“Shhh,” the older one silenced him, grabbing his arm.
“Naw, don’t do that,” she commanded, rolling closer to them. She squinted her eyes, daring them to take off. “Now answer me. Why are you two not at home in your beds? Where’s your parents?”
The oldest of the two sighed, then grabbed his younger brother’s hand.
“Come here. Ignore her.”
The little one was definitely hardheaded as he snatched his hand away, drawing closer to her. She could see it in his eyes; he was hungry. The older one kissed his teeth and stood in between them. Kaleela grinned at the tug of war before her. This was definitely her and Shonasia; her, of course, being the difficult one.
“Move,” he whined, shoving his older brother.
“Don’t you hear your brother talking to you?” Her challenge confused the both of them, halting their little squabble.
“Yes, ma’am.” His little voice croaked as he placed his hand inside of his brother’s. The older one roughly whispered in his ear. He nodded as tears slid down his chubby cheeks.
“It’s okay, Rell. She ain’t gone do shit.”
“I might, lil’ nigga.” She gripped his shirt, and instead of fighting back, he stood with his chest poked out. “And you said Rell?” she repeated. He nodded, although with hesitance, as Rell wiped his face and grinned.
“Cool. What’s your name then?”
She liked that she was getting somewhere. What she didn’t like was that they’d given information about themselves to a stranger. That meant they were desperate, and desperate meant trouble. She was familiar with that and had been most of her life.
“Travis,” he muttered, growing frustrated. She was either going to feed them or call the police. It had been two days since they had something decent to eat, not to mention fatigue from lack of sleep as they took turns watching out for themselves.Travis was mostly sleep-deprived since Rell could barely stay awake come nightfall.
Travis studied her wheelchair, his orbs dashing up and down until he noticed the nine-millimeter. She pursed her lips. She pulled it out and rested it on her lap, causing him to jump.
“Your ass was about to try to rob me, Travis?” She leaned forward, and he gulped. “That’s what you’re teaching him, with his crybaby ass? Listen, let me tell you something. Don’t let this wheelchair make you think for one second I won’t pistol whip your little asses. If you’re gonna rob somebody, you don’t sit around and socialize with them, giving them got damn names. Shit, who the fuck raised y’all?”
“Nobody,” Rell whispered, hunching his shoulders. “Not anymore anyway.”
His answer, although soft, hit her in the stomach like a huge boulder.Immediately, she felt like shit. She knew what that looked and felt like from sleeping on couches in a house filled with drug addicts, to cots, even bus benches, to last her two lifetimes.
If it weren’t for Shonasia linking up with her ex-boyfriend, Chico, they probably would’ve been dead. A young, misguided person himself, he introduced them to the game, from cooking dope to selling it, then putting niggas down for betraying them.
They’d gone from stealing bottles to popping bottles as they flooded the streets of Miami with drugs, then lined the morgues up with plenty of dead bodies. Everyone was happy, especially the funeral homes because their business fueled theirs. Those days of “not enough” were long behind her, but the one constant memory was the wheelchair that held her hostage. She’d give anything to have her legs back, ones that allowed her to run like she once did.
“Alright, I will make you two a deal.” Her eyes skirted back and forth between the two of them. Their eyes stretched wide,eager to hear her proposition. As long as it ended with food in their mouths, they were all ears.
“Yes, ma’am,” Travis replied. She tittered since he’d quickly gained some manners while Rell nodded, issuing a snaggled-tooth grin.
“I’ll take you to this Walmart.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few hundred-dollar bills. “When we get inside, pick up what youneedand only what you need.” Her lip curled underneath her nose as she fanned her hand in front of her face. “No offense, but I suggest starting with some soap and deodorant.”
She didn’t mean to be harsh, but the putrid smells that leaped from their little bodies were smells she never wanted to smell again.
“Then I will grab a few things youwant. After that, we’re going to my place for the night so you can tell me what the hell is going on.”
Kaleela didn’t trust the foster care system, nor the police. Therefore, she had to do shit the only way she knew how to do it, temporarily, that was.
“Yes!” Rell cheered like he scored a touchdown. Still, Travis studied her face with narrow eyes. He wasn’t sure what the real catch was, but at ten, even he knew nothing came for free.
“Travis, we got a hundred dollars!” Rell squealed, watching Kaleela push it in their hands.
Travis quickly closed his fingers, securing the money, before Kaleela wrapped her fist around his hand. She could tell he wasn’t too keen on listening to anyone, but he’d have to if he wanted anything from her.
“On second thought, I’ll pay for your stuff when we get to the register. Now, dust that dirt off your clothes and walk in the store like you have some sense.”
“Man,” Travis drawled. It was short-lived when she gave him a look. She realized without even trying, they’d had the capacity to fall in line. It felt strange, but in a good way, as her maternal instinct seemed to kick in. They just didn’t know they saved her from relapsing. She wanted to save them.
