Heartless People

SIXTEEN

Certain motherfuckers think they can fuck with my shit, but you can't kill the Rooster. You might can fuck him up sometimes, but bitch, nobody kills the motherfucking Rooster. You know what I'm saying?

~ David Sedaris

ETHAN.

10:08 PM

I was good at Italian when everybody spoke slowly, I could understand. I wanted to know because I hated when people spoke around me and I couldn't get what they were saying. When the adults did that, spoke in other languages, it was because they didnt want us to know what they were saying, and if we couldn't know, it was because it was about us.

Cracking the window open slowly, checking back to make sure Elisa and Lucas didn't wake up, I crawled out onto the roof, sliding on my stomach until I got to the edge of it, staying low so the men in the yard wouldnt see me. There were so many, all of them dressed in black, holding big guns, just walking back
and forth across the lawn in front of the gate. The men at the gate stood there with dogs. It reminded me of those war movies I saw on the history channel.

"Achoo!" Somebody sneezed under me.

"Salute," another man with a much deeper voice replied.

"Grazie," he said back, and I wasn't sure but I thought he said, "They say its bad."

"Yeah. Hard to believe the boss dying like that. Shes one tough bitch." I frowned, not sure who they were talking about. The boss? A bitch? What?

"To think Karla Camila Cabello dies in the street like a dog."

"Mommy? What?" I tried to slide over farther when all of a sudden I was yanked back into the house, the grip on my ankles and the back of my shirt not letting up until I was flipped onto the bed.

"Have you lost your goddamn mind?" Uncle Chris hollered right in my face.

He was so angry he looked like the Hulk; a vein was even sticking out in his neck. The only time I had ever seen him like that was when someone called Nari a bad name. He took a deep breath when I backed away from him. "You could have gotten yourself killed, Ethan."

"No, I do it all the time." I frowned; I was good at climbing up stuff.

"Thats—" He started to yell again, but just shook his head at me instead, bending down in front of my bed. "Thats not what I meant. You need to stay inside until we know its safe okay?"

"Safe from what?" I asked, but he didn't answer. "Uncle Chris. Safe from what? Did something happen? Where are my mothers? They said something happened to my mommy."

Uncle Chris was a good liar, but Aunt Vero and momma were better liars, so I could tell when he was lying.

"Your mom's fine. She's just working late." That was his lie, and I didn't want to be a baby. I didn't want to get upset or angry, but that pain came back in my chest. It hurt, it hurt more than when Lucas said he hated me.

"Ethan—"

"You're lying." No. No. No. I don't want to cry. Big kids don't cry. Momma never cries. Wiping my face as fast as I could, it wouldn't stop. "Damn it! My
mom! What happened to my mom! Is she dead?"

"No—"

"Then let me call her," I said, reaching to my bedside table for the phone my momma had given me for emergencies only, but he took it from me.

"Ethan?" Lucas woke up, rubbing his eyes. "Whats going on?"

"Nothings going on, go back to bed, Lucas." Uncle Chris lied again, this time taking me by the hand and dragging me out of the room.