Memphis Streets 4: Skeletons

Chapter 46- Le'Shelle

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I ask. "You put your brother in an oven? What oven? I don't understand." Snake huffs and then plops onto the couch, where he buries his head into his hands.

"Fuck, Shelle. This shit has been wearing on me for such a long muthafuckin' time. You just don't understand."

I remain standing in the center of the room with my arms folded across my chest, waiting for him to continue. "I was a fucking kid. I didn't really know what I was doing," he confesses to the floor. "I hurt him. It was an accident. I didn't know what else to do." He pauses for a long time. When a fuckin' tear splats onto the hardwood floor, I move to the La-Z-Boy across from him. "So lets hear it"

Isaac drove out to my mom's apartment with his gun on his lap. Every time we passed by boys grouped up together, he'd rest one hand on it like he was ready to shoot. Turning into LeMoyne Gardens, a tribe of teenagers threw up signs. I start to toss up the Vice Disciples' like Isaac had taught me, but he stopped me.

"Don't do that shit," he warned. "We're in hostile territory over here. Don't start nothing, won't be nothing. You got that?" I nodded.

Isaac parked the car and then killed the engine. "We need to go over a few rules, lil man," Isaac said, pocketing his keys and turning in his seat. "Your auntie doesn't need to know we came out here. This is going to be our little secret, all right?"

He stared at me so hard I didn't think I had any other choice but to nod. "Good. Rule number one: Real niggas don't snitch on each other. Got it?"

I nodded. He tucked his gun beneath his jacket. "Now. We're going in here to check on your momma. I need you to go in, sit down, and behave while we talk for a minute. Can you handle that?"

I nodded again, but he kept eyeballing me like he didn't know whether he could trust me. "I'll keep my mouth shut. I promise."

"A'ight," he finally said. "Let's go."

We climbed out of the car and made our way up the steep staircase to Momma's place. Isaac constantly checked over his shoulder with his hand on his gun. From outside the door, we heard Mason screaming his head off.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

We waited. The baby's cries grew louder.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

We waited some more. Mason wailed at the top of his lungs. "Goddamn it," Isaac swore.

POUND! POUND! POUND!

He used his fist. I was getting cold.

POUND! POUND! POUND!

"Who is it?" a voice inquired.

"Alice, you know who the fuck this is! Open the goddamn door!" It took her forever to undo the locks and crack open the door to peek out. Isaac's patience snapped as he shoved his way through the door.

"Stop fuckin' around."

"Shit. I didn't know it was you." Momma stumbled backwards.

"Oh, heeey, Terrell." She closed her robe with one hand and scratched her bruised arm with the other.

"I didn't know you were comin' over, too. Did you miss your momma?" I stared at her. She looked worse than the last time I'd seen her.

Mason went on wailing. Isaac kicked the door shut behind us. "You got company?" he asked.

"Nah. Nah. I've been waiting on you, baby." She wobbled toward him. "You remember to bring my medicine? I need it real bad." She was sick.

Suddenly it all made sense. I glanced at Mason, who cried relentlessly on the sofa. I walked over and wondered whether he'd stop crying if I picked him up—again. Momma hugged Isaac and grabbed his dick.

"C'mon, baby. I'll suck it reeeal good, if you just hook me up."

My eyes bugged out of my skull, but then I jerked my head away and pretended like I couldn't hear them over Mason.

"Please, Isaac. C'mon, now. You know that's why you drove over here. Stop playing." She opened her robe and then rubbed her titties against him. Isaac stared at her body like he was in a trance.

"A'ight," he said. "But this is the last fuckin' time. You hear me?"

"That's what you always say." She laughed and unzipped his pants.

"Whoa. Whoa." He jerked her hand away. "Not in front of the kids. Damn."

He looked at me. "Lil man. Me and your momma need to settle some business. You stay out here and watch your brother."

Again, I didn't say shit. I watched Momma lead him to the back of the apartment. A few seconds later, a door slammed. A minute later, a bed was bumping against the wall. I stood there left alone with a crying baby, not sure how I felt about this whole situation. One thing for sure, Mason's crying was working my damn nerves.

I picked him up. He was heavier than the last time. I had him okay, but he didn't stop crying. I sat on the sofa and rocked him. That wasn't enough. I don't know how long I was left there tryna calm him down. Forever, it seemed. Toward the end, I was ready to pull my hair out.

Eventually, I spotted a bottle out of the corner of my eye. A light bulb went off in my head. He was hungry. I grabbed the bottle, but it was thick with moldy-looking stuff inside of it. I tossed it aside and went into the kitchen.

"C'mon. Let's get you something to eat." I walked and bounced him in my arms all the way. Mason did more than scream. He kicked and wiggled in my arms. It got harder to hold him.

"Calm down, lil man. Calm down." I opened the refrigerator and was hit with a horrible stench.

I reeled back just when Mason wiggled and kicked too hard. He was in my arms one second—and then falling out of it the next. Everything happened in slow motion. His fall. His head hitting the corner of the refrigerator, the loud THUMP when his body hit the floor.

Finally, he was silent. No cries. No kicking. No wiggling. I froze—stunned at what'd happened—and scared that I was about to be in trouble. Big trouble. "Mason?" I bent my knees and roll him over. There was a gash on his head and he was bleeding.

Momma's bed stopped bumping the wall. Panicked, I picked Mason up, looked around until my eyes settled onto that ugly green stove. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking—if I was thinking. I wanted to hide him and not get into trouble. So I jerked open the oven and crammed him in before racing back into the living room and sitting down.

A second later Isaac came out of the back room, tucking in his shirt and zipping up his pants. "Let's head out," he said, going straight to the door. I jumped to my feet, expecting him to ask about the baby, but he didn't. Before following, I glanced back toward the kitchen.

Isaac misunderstood why I hesitated. "Look, I gave your momma her medicine and she's sleeping right now. You'll have to see her another time. Now c'mon." He opened the door—and I raced out. That was the last time I saw Mason. The next day when Aunt Peaches and I showed up, my momma didn't even remember that Isaac and I had even been there.

And when my aunt searched the house, I ran to the kitchen, but Mason wasn't in the oven. He was gone. Just . . . gone.