AMERICAN GIRL ⤑ T'CHALLA (BLACK PANTHER)

4

tory is pictured above.

♚

I came home right after leaving the interview - if it could even be called that - and went straight to the kitchen. That morning I hadn't ate, sadness leaving me too sick to my stomach to eat the grits and sausage my Granny set out for us each day, and I always ate the grits and sausage my Granny set out for us.

Luckily, it was still in the microwave for me when I got back, right next to Tory's bowl, also left undisturbed. I shook my head as I grabbed his out to heat mine up. Why my grandmother still bothered to cook a thing for my brother I'd never understand. Whatever he ate, he got while he was out there in the streets. Tory never came home at night and he sure wasn't there in the morning either. We crossed paths every once in a while. A "hey lil' sis" here and a "what's up big bro" there, but we weren't as close as we used to be. Not like we were before he started selling.

When my food was done, I grabbed a fork from the dish rack and headed toward the sound of afternoon reruns of Judge Mathis, a.k.a. my Granny's favorite pastime. I leaned against the doorframe of her bedroom and smiled as I blew on my spoon. She looked so sweet sitting up in her purple cotton gown, silver hair strands pulled back into a wispy bun. She had no idea about me getting fired, or hired for that matter. I decided on the ride home I would wait and see how the whole "giving myself a chance" thing played out before I told anyone anything.

"The queen doesn't want to sit on her throne today?" I queried.

She usually viewed her shows from the dark red, time-worn recliner sitting in the living room, but today she was in bed.

"No, not today," she answered, an uncharacteristic liveliness in her voice. "Your brother says he's coming home today and I wanted to be out his way. Says he's coming home for good."

I could see the hope in her eyes while she said it and it broke my heart. Tory coming home for any period longer than fifteen minutes just sounded like a lie, but she believed everything my brother said. I loved him to death, but I'd stopped doing that a long time ago.

"Granny," I sighed, not wanting her to get her wishes up. She already knew what I was thinking and she didn't want to hear any part of it.

"Oh, now you hush up girl, and have some faith. That's was the Lord do; have faith in his sons and daughters."

"Even the Lord's tired of Tory, Granny," I told her, and it was the truth. I could count on two hands the number of times he had claimed to be handing his life over to Christ. I always said one day he would try and Christ would hand it right back. Still, Granny wasn't having it.

"I said hush up," she repeated, sternly this time, one of her shaky fingers pointed toward me. I didn't want to get her pressure up so I hushed.

Then we both heard him coming.

Heavy bass and heavy language booming down the street, getting closer to the windows until they rattled to the beat. Instead of being upset by the shaking pill bottles and the mention of "big booty bitches," Granny just looked me at me with those hopeful eyes again and said, "There goes my grandbaby now."

The music went off and the sound of Tory's heavy footsteps took its place. Neither of us said a word as they got louder and louder, until the front door opened and closed, and he was inside.

"Ayo!" he called out.

"In here," I responded.

He followed my voice and there he came, towering behind me in all of his six-foot-five glory. Granny's face beamed. He was two hundred and twenty five pounds of pure, tattoo-covered muscle, but all she saw right then was her little baby grandson. Even in my frustration with him, my face of stone couldn't help but betray me when he pulled me into a tight hug and said in his  voice of gold, "Lil sis. How you been, Kiki?"