Push Comes To Shove Part 27

Miles glanced at Crutchfield. "I have to make it right." He turned back to the sky and jumped.

"Miles!" Crutchfield went as close to the ledge as safety would allow.

GP closed his eyes and prayed that Kitchie was safe.

Night had fallen on the city. Kitchie stared from the barred window at the stars. She was thinking about all the things that she and her family hadn't done, the things that they would never get to do. Red and blue strobe lights all of a sudden began to bounce off the trees in her immediate view. Her pulse quickened. Then, she heard a two-way radio coming from somewhere inside the house. She banged and kicked the door. "Somebody, help me." She backed away from the door when the k.n.o.b spun in both directions. She had no idea of what to expect.

"Mrs. Kitchie Patterson."

She thanked G.o.d in her mind. "Yes."

"This is the police. Step away from the door. We're going to break it down. Are you okay in there?"

"Yes, I'm fine." She noticed an officer outside the window, beaming a flashlight into the room.

The door buckled and the doorframe split from the applied pressure. It opened and there GP was standing behind the police.

One week later, Jewels looked at the information written on the paper, then looked up at the obese man. "I must have the wrong address. Please forgive me."

Mr. Reynolds opened the door wider. "What is it that you're looking for?"

"I was told that there was a coffin and headstone supplier in this area." She switched a large purse from one shoulder to the other.

"This is the place. Well, actually, my store is next door. Come in." He stepped aside to let Jewels pa.s.s. "I don't have any coffins in stock at the moment, but you can take a look at my catalog." He locked the door of the defunct group home. "If you see something you like, I can have it delivered to any funeral home in the city within forty-eight hours."

"That may just work out." She followed him into the visiting room while putting on a pair of tight leather gloves. "This is a beautiful place, and it's quiet." She studied the hand-carved wood tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs that outlined the room.

"Trust me, it wasn't always like this." He picked up a three-ring binder. "It's been a long time, but I enjoy being here by myself. Today is the first time I've had this place to myself in over twenty years."

"What a shame."

"No, really. I don't want a houseful of people...especially kids."

"I meant it's a shame you let me catch you slipping. I've been wanting to f.u.c.k you up so bad, I was having nightmares about it." Jewels rushed toward him.

"Do I have to?"

"Secret, it's either study or go to summer school. It's not too late to sign you up." GP removed a new set of dishes from a box and began to arrange them in a cabinet above the sink.

She sighed and plopped down in her seat.

"Don't look at me; you heard your father." Kitchie removed the dishes that GP had placed on the shelves.

"What are you doing, woman?"

"Just because they're new doesn't mean they don't need to be washed first."

GP stared at Junior, who was in the next room watching The Parkers The Parkers. "I'm worried about him."

"He'll come around." Kitchie touched GP's hand. "Just do what the doctor advised."

"How can I? Keep it real. How am I supposed to pretend that everything is normal when it's not?"

Kitchie cast her brown eyes on Secret. "Get your nose out of grown folk's business and put it in that math book."

Secret looked at the equation. They act like my ears don't work They act like my ears don't work.

"Papi, he'll talk when he's ready. He's been through a lot."

"I hope you're right."

"Me too, Daddy. I miss him getting smart with me."

"What counts right now," Kitchie said, "is that we're all together."

For now, GP thought. "I hope Vivian can postpone our next court date for a few more weeks. I'm trying to stretch this out for as long as possible."

Kitchie put a Wendy's cap on GP's head, then rose up on her toes to kiss him on the mouth. "I'll take care of the dishes. You better go before you're late for work."

GP kissed Secret's forehead and pointed at the second problem. "That's the wrong answer. Slow down and take your time. I'll check it tonight and go over it with you tomorrow."

"Daddy, when we get the apartment together, can Nise and Samone come spend the night? I miss them."

"I don't see why not."

"That will be nice." Kitchie pushed a box that was marked Pictures Pictures into the corner. into the corner.

GP went into the living room. "Junior, I'll see you later." He held out a solid fist. "Hit that rock."

Junior banged his fist against GP's, then turned back to the sitcom.

GP held Kitchie's hand and led her into the hall outside of their apartment. "I get off at midnight."

"When you get in, just tap me. I'll roll over. I don't know if I'm ready for s.e.x again, though."

"Marques Houston's 'Naked' might help you to come around." He smiled. "If it doesn't, I'm willing to wait as long as it takes."

"Thank you for being so understanding, Papi."

"You know, I always figured that the Street Prophet would grow into something bigger than the boundaries of the booth, but closing it down completely didn't have a scene in my dreams." He looked down at the Wendy's uniform. Mr. Reynolds invaded his thoughts. You're worthless. Your mother doesn't even want you. You will never amount to anything You're worthless. Your mother doesn't even want you. You will never amount to anything.

"Papi, everything doesn't always work out as planned. I fuss at you, but I commend you for having a dream and striving for it in a respectable way. It takes a man to endure what you have in the name of honesty. The average brother would've turned to the streets a long time ago. You stuck it out; whether it worked out or not." She was quiet for a moment. "I wish it had worked out, the whole notoriety and wealth you want for our family, but I'm happy with what we have. It's not much, but it's ours and we're together."

GP leaned against the wall. "Dan hired me full-time."

She frowned. "How are you gonna pull that off? I have-"

"That's why I'm closing the booth down sooner than I had planned. This is the last week. I'll draw at home in my spare time."

"But...I never wanted you to quit doing what you love."

"It makes more sense. I have to start thinking responsibly. I'll make more steady money working at Wendy's full-time than I can make on average working the booth in the day and flipping Double Cla.s.sics at night. We're not going to lose anything again."

While in the attic of the group home, Jewels pulled a chain that she'd thrown over an overhead beam.

Now she was lifting Mr. Reynolds. She hooked the chain to a stationary two-by-four post in the attic.

Blood dripped from Mr. Reynolds's nose. His left eye was swollen shut. "No more, please."

"Never thought you'd be a product of your own torture, did you? You got off stringing up defenseless kids to this ceiling. I'm about to get off, too. Let you get a taste of your own medicine and then some." She took all the items from her leather bag, all except one-the main main one. She set upright three mayonnaise jars filled with gasoline, then peeled away the thin plastic film on a box of double-edged razors. She tore off a piece of gray tape. one. She set upright three mayonnaise jars filled with gasoline, then peeled away the thin plastic film on a box of double-edged razors. She tore off a piece of gray tape.

She stood up and slammed a gloved fist into his naked body. "Now you know how this s.h.i.+t feels." She delivered a kidney blow that caused urine to leak down his legs.

He could no longer voice the extent of his discomfort. All he could do was grunt, "Please."

"What?" She positioned her ear near Mr. Reynolds's mouth. "p.u.s.s.y, speak up. I can't hear you beg."

"P-please. I quit."

She clenched a fist of his hair, then shoved six double-edged razors into his mouth and taped it closed. She punched the center of his face until she felt his nose bone crunch under her punch.

"You want to quit now." She circled him.

"Did..." Punch. "You..." Jumping knee thrust to the ribs.

Mr. Reynolds bit down on a razor.

"...Stop..." Elbow to the groin.

He let out a painful grunt.

"...When..." Front snap-kick to the lower abdomen. "Them..." Spinning back fist to the cheek.

Blood filled his mouth.

"...Kids..." Palm-heel strike to his solar plexus.

His blubber shook.

"...Asked..." Knife-hand strike to the throat.

He struggled to catch a breath.

"...You..." A thumb gouge to the eye. "To..." A reverse punch to the mouth.

A razor sliced his tongue.

"...Stop?"

The blood backed up in his mouth and found an escape route through his nose.

Jewels lifted his wrinkled eyelid with a thumb. "I ain't done yet. I'm gonna show you how it feels to be taken advantage of, to be f.u.c.ked around."

He was still swallowing blood.

Jewels stripped until she was nude-with the exception of her boots and leather gloves. She went to her bag and took her special treat out-a steel strap-on. She slapped Mr. Reynolds in the face with all thirteen inches of it. "Open your eyes, b.i.t.c.h. I said, I ain't done yet."

He found his last-resort strength and tugged at the chain suspending him from the ceiling.

"You must have never seen one this big. Wait until you feel it." She circled his body and stopped behind him. "When I'm done, you're gonna know what it feels like to be really abused; what it feels like to have an a.s.shole with stretch marks." She rubbed the cold steel head along his crack.

He clenched his cheeks-tight.

She hit him with a combination of punches that started on the left side of his fat body and ended on the right. Then, she began the stretching process, wearing out his sphincter.

His face contorted and his eyes bulged with each violent thrust. He prayed to die. She pulled his head back so hard that he was forced to swallow a razor, which sliced his windpipe. The suffocation began.

"If you had never put your hands on my loved ones, I'd never have been thinking of ways to torture you." She detached herself from the strap-on, leaving it wedged inside of him. "That looks painful."

Blood started to fill his lungs. His face was discolored, livid. Veins protruded around his strained eyes and temples. Jewels answered his prayer. He was dying, but in the worst way.

She stood inches away, looking into his eyes as life escaped him. "Die."

The strap-on fell to the floor just when death consumed him. Jewels dressed herself, then began to soak the attic with two of the three mayonnaise jars of gasoline. She poured the last jar over his head.

Jewels jumped from the loading dock and eased into the shadows of the night as the h.e.l.lish inferno consumed the group home.

"I don't feel sorry for him at all. I might change my opinion in some other life, but right now, that's what he gets." Kitchie stuffed a stack of Street Prophet jeans into a duffle bag. "I'm glad there were no children in there."

"G.o.d don't like ugly." GP packed the last of their merchandise into the back of Jewels's Escalade.

"G.o.d has to like ugly; He made it. The Big Guy and I would've had serious issues if He'd waited until Judgment Day to let old man Reynolds feel the fire." Jewels stroked the top of Junior's head and helped him into the car.

Secret climbed from the backseat and pointed to a crowd of suits and ties on the other side of Euclid Avenue.

"Girl, get your b.u.t.t back in the car so we can leave." Kitchie c.o.c.ked a hip, resting a hand on it.

"That's him," Secret said, still pointing a finger.

"That's who?" GP gazed in the direction her finger was aimed.

"That's Brandon, Daddy."

Everybody looked.

"Get in the car, Secret," Kitchie said. "We know who the mayor is."

"No, that's Brandon. The man who found Junior and me in his car. The one who...you know."