“Of course,” Pastor Ralph replied. “He is my only sister’s son. I’ll take care of him like my own.” Pastor Ralph being Gloria’s only living relative, was left to take care of the child.
Pastor Ralph, at sixty years old, had never been married and had no children of his own. He had a little storefront church in Tivoli Gardens with twelve members on a good Sunday. A “fire and brimstone” preacher, he was always informing the residents of the community that they were all going to hell.
“Well, I better be going now.” Sister Winnie groaned and gingerly rose to her feet. “I’ll be stopping by to visit with Suave, if that’s okay.” She looked at Pastor Ralph, who had also stood to his feet.
“That will be fine, my sister. I know you have known him since he was born. Please stop by anytime you want.”
Sister Winnie smiled in appreciation. “Let me go and say goodbye—”
Pastor Ralph said quickly, “That’s probably not a good idea.”
Sister Winnie looked at him with a frown. “I just want to tell him I’m leaving.”
Pastor Ralph explained, “It will just make it harder for him when you leave. Remember, Suave doesn’t know me too well. I don’t want him to start fussing because you’re leaving.”
Sister Winnie gave him a sympathetic look. “You’re right. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking about that. I’ll be back in a few days to see him.”
“Okay.” Pastor Ralph walked Sister Winnie to the door. “See you soon.” He waved and watched from the doorway until she disappeared... a sinister grin on his face.
Chapter Fourteen
“I’m not hungry.” Suave rolled over to the far corner of the small, metal twin bed. With his back to Pastor Ralph, he stared at the dirty, chipped wallpaper on the wall without seeing it.
“You have to eat something, boy.” Pastor Ralph stood looking down on Suave, a plate of white rice and tin mackerel in his hand. “You are already too skinny as it is.”
Suave ignored his uncle, his mind consumed with his deceased parents. The tears trickled down his face. “I want my mommy and daddy,” he mumbled.
Pastor Ralph heard and replied in an icy voice, “They’re dead. Your worthless daddy killed your stupid mommy, and both are now in hell.”
Like a rabid cat, Suave spun around, leaped off the bed onto Pastor Ralph’s chest, scratching and kicking at the much-bigger man. “Don’t talk about my mommy and daddy!”
Pastor Ralph plucked the boy off him like a tick and threw him across the room. “If you ever do that again, I’ll snap your scrawny neck.”
Suave whimpered in pain after bouncing off the wall and curled his little body into a ball. The boy felt as if he had just been run over by a trailer.
“Now you get nothing to eat, you bastard. Not even a scrap ever in this house.” Pastor Ralph walked to the door with the plate of food. “You should be glad I’m taking your homeless behind into my home. You just like your no-good daddy.” He walked over to the light switch by the door and plunged the room into darkness. Livid, he exited the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
Left alone, Suave sobbed loudly. He was hurting so much—mentally and physically. That night he cried himself to sleep on the filthy floorboard.
Early the next morning, Pastor Ralph asked, “You okay in there?” He pulled the door open and stepped into the still dark, windowless bedroom. Shock flashed across his face after he switched on the light and saw Suave lying on the floor. The boy was stretched out flat on his back, his legs straight, and his hands by his sides with his eyes closed. He wasn’t moving. “Good God, did I kill him?”
Pastor Ralph tiptoed over to Suave, a feeling of dread in his gut. He used his feet to poke him in the side. Suave didn’t move. A little bit harder now, he kicked Suave again, but he remained still. With a much-stronger force this time, Pastor Ralph’s foot slammed into Suave’s side, and the boy screamed out in agony.
“Now, you’re back from the dead.” Pastor Ralph snapped and kicked him again. “What you trying to do, huh? Give me a heart attack?” He lifted his foot to strike Suave again, but the boy jumped to his feet, slipped around him, and ran out the door.
“Come back here!” Pastor Ralph went after him. He walked through the living room and hurried to the door. He quickly glanced down the street in time to see Suave sprinting around the corner before disappearing.
Suave ran and ran until he knew he was a good distance away from his uncle’s house. With his hands resting on his knees, he bent over in the narrow road, sucking air into his burning lungs. Still panting, he began to walk down the street looking around at the little houses and shops along the roadside. Soon, Suave came upon a group of men sitting under a grocery shop piazza.
It was early morning, but they were drinking rum and smoking marijuana for breakfast. Suave was familiar with the menu because it was one of his father’s favorites. Like a little mouse, he approached the men.
“I hope you get my money today from Ramsey,” Suave heard the man dressed in full white say as he got closer to the men. “If he gives you any trouble, put a bullet in his skull. I don’t give—Who are you?”
Suave felt nine pairs of eyes piercing through him and said, “Suave.”
“What the heck are you doing listening to grown folks’ conversation?” the leader asked.
Suave shook his head, confused. What had he done wrong? “I was just wondering if someone can please give me a dollar to buy a bulla cake and a bag juice.” The boy was now feeling hunger. He hadn’t eaten since his parents died two days ago.
Mason Dyke Senior’s eyes ran over the strange, lanky boy while his men looked
