“Evvie,” Clay whispers.
“Shhh, baby, it’s okay,” I whisper back, tryna sound calm.
“Leave,” he says. “Just get outta here.”
I rock him faster as I think about all the tools I have and try to figure out what to do.
“I am a child of God I am not ugly I will do no…,” I say as I rock. “I am a child of God I am not ugly I will do no…” I can’t say it. I want to do them harm. I want to pierce every nerve in their bodies. Atti was right: I want to destroy them.
I’m doin’ my best to hold ’em, but they’re gettin’ loose. Gettin’ loose and gettin’ close, drinkin’ more beer and conspirin’. They wanna punish me for my trespasses.
I look around wildly and see it. Just yards away from me and Clay—Bottomless Pit. On the other side of it was where I made it snow. That means Grammie Atti is only yards, the width of the pond, and a mile or so away.
More noise, more nasty laughter, more beer cans. About a dozen are here now, and I’ll be damned if Virgil ain’t one of ’em. I thought I still had him and Teddy bound, but I’m startin’ to see I don’t have as much control as I thought.
I call to Grammie Atti. I call hard. I cannot do this on my own.
“Grab her,” one of ’em says. Another two put their hands on me, and I dip into red-orange and repel them off me with electric shocks. They yelp and cuss me.
“Fuck this bitch! I ain’t touchin’ her!”
In that brief instant, others pounce on Clay, and they kick him in his ribs, and somebody, sweet Jesus, somebody steps on his fingers, and I hear the catastrophic crunch.
“Leave him alone,” I scream! He can barely move!
“Looks like I win again,” Miss Athena—Atti only to her near and dear—cackles at her associates around the card table, which she’s moved into the sittin’ room for Saturday night pinochle.
“You cheat,” Miss Mary Margaret complains.
Miss Athena relishes her triumph, collects her winnings, and then she stops as if suspended in time. The other women talk among themselves and don’t notice that Miss Athena has stopped moving. Stopped breathing.
“I’ll be back,” she announces, and rises.
This is unusual. She never skips out on pinochle early.
“Are you gonna keep playin’ or not?”
“Deal me out,” she says.
She walks through her back door, out into the night. It’s a good mile to get to her destination, and she’s gotta move fast. Her granddaughter has called on her for help. Evvie has never done this before. She can’t ignore this call.
Miss Athena sees and hears them long before she’s in their midst and has to pause to catch her breath. She places a hand out to lean on a tree for support.
I didn’t see her land. But I heard it.
Any thoughts of her mother she must let go. She shakes them from her head. Any thoughts of her Roy left on the train tracks way back when she was Evalene’s age she must let go. She mustn’t be clouded by grief tonight. She gathers all her wits about her.
I’m tryna fight ’em off and protect Clay at the same time, and I’m not succeeding. We’re in a sinking ship, Clay and me. Every time I plug one hole, another leak springs up.
I’m runnin’ on empty in red-orange cuz I’m gettin’ too tired to feel properly angry. I can’t figure out how to change the atmosphere without gettin’ happy first, and I am about as far away from happy as I can be. And clarity? I can’t locate a clear thought in my head right now. One of ’em throws a punch that catches my jaw and knocks me sideways till I topple over. Immediately I roll onto my stomach, spit out blood, and start crawlin’ back to Clay despite the pain. My sankofa necklace scrapes the ground under me, still clinging around my neck. As I crawl, Virgil punches the guy who punched me, about six times in a row. Guess he’s the only one allowed to hurt me.
And that gives me an idea. I can’t hold them all, but I can steer one. I make Virgil my puppet and use him to sock, kick, and bite any of ’em that’s on Clay.
“Stop it, you fucking—” He tries to insult me, but I lock his lips to shut him up. He can’t stop me and I ain’t stoppin’. I’m gettin’ weaker, though, and Clay. Oh, Clay. What have they done to you?
“Clay!”
He’s left on the ground as a few of the others try to restrain Virgil. His breathing is comin’ slow now. I reach out to touch him, but as I get near, he’s moving away. They’re right back on him and pullin’ him away from me. I grab for him, but its no use.
Where is my puppet? I don’t see Virgil anywhere now, and it’s gettin’ hard to see anything at all cuz there’s smoke in my eyes. Smoke blowin’ all around in giant billowy puffs makin’ me cough and choke.
It’s too late, baby. My mother said that. Where is she?
You gotta run now! You gotta let him go! she says.
Mama, help us! Please!
You are a child of God! You are not ugly—
“SHUT UP,” I scream at her, wherever she is. I need more than a prayer! I am losin’ oxygen fast.
The glow of the fire is fadin’ from me and I’m fadin’ from everything and I’m startin’ to feel relief. Just to be able to rest…
NO! I cannot give up. With the last strain of power I can feel, I reach into my gut. I can’t think. I don’t know what to do. So I combine red-orange, greenish-yellow, and purple-silver into one giant undulating rainbow.
My head hits the ground. The smoke thickens. The rainbow vibrates and glows, and it ain’t peaceful like
