Falling

Nineteen (Brothers)

White is what I see, like clouds wide and deep, driving my vision deep into another neighborhood.

There's a glimmer of light peeking above white cotton and spreading across. A crimson line merges with blue moving across the cloud in a thin line...And, another crossing its center.

I lean into the colors wanting more of its joyful smile. Who will read the words that unlock that door?

A whisper..."Sammm."

The vision is broken when the little room's door starts to speak with a whine and a long creek. Something scuffles across the floor and flops, falling.

The hard floor meets it with a slapping sound, like a large water balloon splashing into its surface.

I can't see through the milky-white curtain that cloaks the milieu of forms that play beyond my reach.

Slowly I move to the new sound, an invasion of previously empty space. My hands reach out for clues, ears tilted toward where the floor has consistently laid in silent waiting.

I wait for some sound, a movement in the air.

"Hello! Whose there?"

The door bangs shut from behind.

There be a guy standing, hands reaching out. A pile of brown hair falls down his head. Looks like he's been sleep'n outside for a few days, just him an' the dirty street. A white face, all splotched with patches of goodly smeared dirt.

It be his eyes that makes me sit up and lean back against the wall.

White!

Like someone done poured milk on 'em and it stuck.

He ain't go-n to do me no harm. I could take 'im down with one hand.

"Squito. I be calls." My words are come-n out a little shaky.

He takes a step back and settles his butt on the cot that's hang-n tight against the other wall. He's a pitiful sight. I feels a melt-n inside.

"Do you know how to read English?" He asks.

"Well...Some," I answers.

He be reach'n down and pulls out a backpack, fiddles a  zipper an' pulls out a little book.

He reaches it out to me.

"Would you read something for me?" There's a cry in his voice that tells me I can't be say-n no.

I leans forward and reaches for the book. It feels slick in my hand an' all bumpy under my fingers.

"Just open it where the red ribbon is," he says.

I opens the little book. The pages feel all slippery and the words...It's like they be stand-n up an' call-n me.

My eyes be a-stumble-n over the black letters...blur-n a bit. I can pick out some of it. "Enter the king...dom of God...without being born of water and...Spir..it. The Ho..ly Spir..it gives br..th to eter..nal life."

My fingers begin a-fumble-n an' the book falls to the floor. My eyes pop wide. It stays open. I sees a crack a-tween the pages, break-n them apart.

"What's that about?" My eyes can't be see-n this.

"It's where I use to be...and...where I'm going again," he says with that cry in his voice.

He reaches out his hand, fingers invite-n. "Will you pray with me?"

My memory flips back to those pray-n times with the Witch. "Who you be pray-n to?"

"You'll see."

"Okay. I guess I can give ya a hand with what you needs to be do-n," I says. It can't hurt me more than I be a-hurt-n after that beat-n Papa's men be given me.

I takes his hand.

An' a streak of some-thin' drifts up my arm and whirls around into my head.

I tries to pull my hand away. But, his grip is too much. An' that feeling turns to be-n lit up like a shine-n light bulb.

"You want to come with me?" He asks.

"Where we be go-n?" I asks. Now I be get-n the shivers.

"Another neighborhood," he answers.

I closes my eyes, hard shut. An' there's this door open-in...An' this shape wave-n me in.

"This can be your new home if you want to move in," a whisper-in without air. That's what it be sound'n like.

A joyful feel'n fills me...Like a whole ocean of love be a pour-n in, deep and fill-n. "I be stay-n here for sure."

"You want to be my brother?" He asks.

The sound of his words shakes me back to where I be sit-n...on this cold cement slab.

"Yeah, if you be taken me back to that...what'd you say...neighborhood for another visit...sure beats this hell hole."

I looks into those milky eyes an' sees a little streak of light pass'n across in a thin line.

My stare'n be jerk-in away  into the cool air of this evil smell'n little room when  I hear's the door behind me creek'n open. 

An' a real ugly sound-n voice says. "It's time for some more serious talk...boys!

I knows what that means. An' it be hurt-n.