Don't Get Angry

53- Otis: Braided Hair

I sat on one of the beds staring at my hands. Listening to the water run in the shower calmed me. I bowed my head and frowned hearing Dalta's whimpers. They were muffled by the water, but they made my heart ache. The water turned off and I slowly stood prepared to go in. Dalta's feet moved under the door. I sighed sitting back down. I had to wait.

The door opened a few minutes later. Dalta's thick hair was heavy from water. It formed a mane around her head. The water covered the floor and soaked her pajamas. She held her towel close like a blanket. I furrowed my brows. "Your hair."

She walked over to her suitcase and opened it. She dug through her clothes and seemed to be looking for something. She took out a bottle of hair product and a brush and a light smile hit her cheek. Her eyes met mine and the smile faded.

"Do you...want me to help you dry your hair?"

She nodded then walked over to me sitting on the bed beside me. I stared at her. Her nose was red and swollen. I slowly climbed on to the bed kneeling behind her. I took the towel off her lap them began to dry the back of her hair. It shun from the yellow motel light above us.

"I can-" I cleared my throat. "I've braided my sister's hair before."

She didn't move or say a word.

"I can...I can braid your hair if you want."

"My hair's not like your sister's."

"I know."

"You would have moisturize it before you braid it."

I stared at her mane of hair. "Do you...do you wanna do that? I can braid it afterwards."

She sighed then opened the bottle of hair product and began to run it through her hair, tugging on it section by section. The air around us began to smell sweet. She picked up her comb and handed it to me, slouching her shoulders. "This is a bad idea."

"We'll see." I began to part a line down the middle of head.

"I used to braid my sister's hair when my mom worked nights." Strands of her hair wrapped around the comb. I tried holding one side of her hair, but struggled with getting the comb through it.

"Having trouble?" Her voice was soft, as if it was stressful for her to speak. She didn't want to.

"Yeah." I smirked.

She lifted her hand. I handed her the comb. I watched her part her hair into two sections without help. She slipped a wet scrunchie from her wrist and wrapped it around one side of her hair. Then she handed the comb back to me. I took it. "Start with the ends," she advised me.

"Okay." I gulped. I ran the comb through the ends of her hair smoothing out the knots, then slowly made my way to her roots. She flinched I few times but I could tell she was trying to pretend I wasn't hurting her. I frowned then put the comb down. I knelt on the bed, gently leaned her head back a bit, then I began to braid the wet hair. She shut her eyes and a slight smirk hit her cheek, then she pursed her lips and frowned.

I put her braided hair over her shoulder then began the other side. She held her breath, remaining calm as I repeated what I had done before. I finished the braid and sighed in relief. Her braids looked bad, but I was glad that it was over. Her tense shoulders relaxed. She turned back to me with a smile, then she seemed to remember everything I had said to her a few hours before. Her smile drained to a frown.

I sighed. "Dalta-"

She stood and walked over to her bed. She laid down on the pillow. I got up and grabbed my towel heading to the bathroom.

I got into the shower. The warm water ran down my back. I shut my eyes then leaned my head back letting it soothe my scalp. I reached over and grabbed the bottle of body wash Penny had left us. I squeezed some into my hand then began to rub it through my hair. The smell filled my nostrils; lavender. I frowned. I was terrible. I always put myself before others. Even the people I love were put underneath me. I was selfish and I couldn't see it because I was too self-absorbed to. I never thought about my words.

I scrubbed my skin then got out of the shower wiping my body with my towel. I wrapped it around my waist then walked out of the bathroom making my way to my suitcase. Dalta laid on the bed biting her nail and staring at the door. I unzipped it and grabbed some clothes then walked back into the bathroom.

When I walked back out Dalta was gone. My heart stopped. "Dalta!" I ran out of the motel room. Dalta stood by the car on the phone. She looked at me with a sad smile. There were tears in her eyes. "I love you too, mom."

I sighed and held my chest.

"Yeah," she giggled. "He's right here..." She walked over to me holding out the phone.

I took it, slowly lifting it up to my ear. I expected to get a cussing out. But her mother spoke softly to me. "Hello?"

"Hi, Otis. How are you?"

"I'm...I'm sorry I took her like that-"

"It's...it's fine. I'm just disappointed, but Dalta's been worried about Betty for a very long time now. I just wish she'd told me that she wanted to look for the girl. Her father and I would've done something about it."

I looked at Dalta. Her mother listened to everything and always seemed willing to help people out with there problems. How could Dalta not want to talk to her?

"Otis, I'll tell you what I told Dalta. I want you both to come back home. I know that you care about Betty, but she doesn't want to be found. If she did her father would've gone after her."

"I'm...," I looked at the ground, "I'm sorry Mrs. Jefferson, but Dalta and I can't come home yet."

"She told me the same thing."

I looked at Dalta. She was biting her nails.

"You're both adults now. So, I'm not going to call the police. But I trust that by the end of tomorrow you'll both be home. Understand?"

"Yes, Mrs. Jefferson-"

"If not, I will come look for the both of you myself. Now what motel are you staying at?"

"The White Horse Motel."

"Okay. Separate beds?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She got quiet. "You know why I'm asking you this question, right?"

"Yes, ma'am." I tried not to laugh.

"Alright. Have a good night and please keep in touch. And call your mother. She's worried sick."

"I will."

"God bless you, Otis."

I smiled.

"Hello?"

"S-same to you, Mrs. Jefferson."

I handed the phone back to Dalta. She took it with a smile. "Hello? ...Yeah...I'll call you tomorrow... I won't..." Dalta giggled. "Otis isn't that kind of guy. Trust me... No he's not gay, mom."

I chuckled.

"Bye." She shut off the phone then handed it back to me. Her smile faded.

"Time for bed, I guess-"

"Right after I braid your hair." She started heading back inside.

"What?" I followed her.

"My mom knew I needed my hair stuff so she sent me rubber bands and scrunchies. Besides...," she sat on her bed, "I think we should talk."

I stared at her.

"I can't sleep because I slept all afternoon and it's pretty early-"

"Okay. Let's talk."