Nightcrawling

I cough. “You heard about the story? Cop who killed himself?”

Alé’s eyebrows do a quick wave and her eyes glaze a little. “Oh shit.”

I can tell she wants to look away from me, can see the way her eyelids flutter like the last thing she wants to do is stare into my eyes, and I can’t blame her because this is everything she ever told me not to do and I bet I’m splintering her bones like Mama splintered mine. If only some Sunday Shoes and a funeral could mourn all this shit, bandage us up.

“Didn’t mean for it to happen. They found me and it was prison or that and you know what Mama been through, I wasn’t about to get locked up.” Alé’s eyes close and I shut my mouth. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“Why you sorry?” She’s still got her eyes closed.

“I know you didn’t want me in this mess and—”

“So you’re sorry ’cause you think you disappointed me?” There’s something scratching in her throat and I can’t tell if she’s angry or sad or if she thinks that’s the funniest thing she heard in a damn long time.

I fumble. “I guess.”

She looks at me and smiles, the brown in those eyes magnetic. “I just wanted to keep you safe, Kiara.” She shrugs, and I wonder if she’s thinking about Clara. “And the only reason I ever been disappointed is ’cause we never in the same place at the same time.” She coughs, maybe to get rid of the nakedness in her voice and maybe just to fill the room with sound. “Except maybe when we eating.”

Alé opens the lids, three tacos in each box, and slides them toward me. She scoots back so we aren’t touching anymore and I lift a shrimp taco from the box and consume it in three bites. I reach for the next one. She could be eating, but instead she watches me, sly smile. I look at the newest tattoo on her neck. It’s a beehive, except I don’t think it’s full of bees. I lean in, sauce dripping from the corner of my mouth. The swarm is actually a bunch of butterflies mid-flight. I want to touch them and see if the wings flutter because it looks like they would, but there’s food to be eating and it’s too dangerous to make contact with Alé’s skin when it’s this dark.

“Any for me?” My stomach leaps at the sound of Trevor’s voice. Both Alé and I whip our heads to look at him sitting up in bed. We must not have been quiet enough.

Alé waves him over and he practically runs to us. I don’t remember him taking off his shirt, but he isn’t wearing it no more and his bare torso makes me want to scoop him up and cradle him, lengthening body and all. That boy is a wonder. He’s my autumn rain. My last picture of the sun before it sets. Daytime is not possible without Trevor. Not even sure the sun comes out without Trevor.

He sits beside us and picks up his own taco. I pause to watch him bite into it and chew with his mouth open, like I know he will. He’s staring at me and waiting for me to tell him to shut his mouth while he’s eating, but tonight I stay quiet. If the boy wants to eat with his tongue out, don’t he deserve that joy? Too dark for anyone else to ever know.

Trevor pauses before his next bite and looks around in the black. “Think there’s ghosts up in here?”

Alé glances up at the ceiling like that’s where she might find them. “Nah, just spiders.”





Alé sleeps like a mix between a corpse and a starfish. She never said she was gonna stay the night, but we both knew she would the moment she laid her head in my lap. Never seen somebody sleep on a hardwood floor like that: extremities spread out and not moving a single inch. Mouth open just enough that you can see she got teeth, but not a tongue.

I watched her all night, waiting for my own body to swirl me into a slumber. Never did. After we finished the tacos, Trevor went back to the mattress and fell asleep. I told Alé everything else about the cops and Purple Suit and the tingle and she said I needed to have Tony or Marcus with me, just in case the tingle turns to a full quake and not even the blinds can keep me safe. I argued with Alé, told her about Marcus, but she wasn’t having none of it, so we made a deal that I would go to Cole’s in the morning and she would take Trevor to the taquería and make sure he’s fed.

Now I’m just waiting for her body to show some sign of life again. It’s bright out. I can tell because our blinds let in cracks of light that make patterns across the floor. The light spreads to Alé’s sleeping body so she is a weaving of light and dark.

It starts with her jaw. It opens a little at first and then shakes side to side, goes in a full circle, and ends in a yawn. When she blinks, I want to touch her face. It’s almost like my entire body wants to climb over her and touch the slope of her cheek.

“Morning.” Her voice changes pitch a couple times and comes out a groan.

I laugh. “Morning.”

“Trevor still sleeping?” she asks.

I glance over at Trevor’s body still curled up and turned to the other wall.

“Yeah,” I say.

Alé’s hair has completely escaped from her usual bun and I grab on to it, smooth it into my hands, and swirl it back into its neatness, leaving a single black strand. I watch the way it feathers her face and I’d like to think sometimes it tickles and sometimes she laughs out of nowhere and her butterflies start singing.

She sits up and looks at me for a moment before crawling across the floor, big bulk of her looking like a child, all the way to Trevor. She shakes him.

“Buenos días,” she sings, and her voice is a flat groan again, but I’m so happy to hear some sound in this apartment after all the hours of silent that I want her to just keep talking and singing all day.

Trevor rolls over with his arms covering his eyes. Alé moves them and leans down to him and yells buenos días into his face again, and he jumps up to his feet like he’s a ninja and runs over to tackle me. I’m down on the floor laughing and his newly awake eyes are bright and wide.

Eventually, I shove him from me. “Get on off me, boy.”

He climbs off and stands. “I’m hungry,” he says.

“You always hungry.” I laugh.

Alé is already putting her shoes on. “Go on and get ready, Trev. We’re going to La Casa.”

Trevor runs to the pile of clothes in the corner and changes faster than I’ve ever imagined anyone could change clothes. He pulls on his sneakers and stands by the door while I’m still on the floor by the lamp. Alé comes over to me and crouches down so she can talk to me without Trevor hearing.

“You good?” she whispers.

I nod. “Just make sure he’s safe, yeah?” I tilt my head toward Trevor.

Alé smiles, touches my knee. The warmth spreads.

I watch them leave and I really hope the eyes are waiting for me and not him, that they follow me and not him. When they shut the door, images of Marcus and his fists and the last time I saw him imprint into my memory and the last thing I want to do is leave this apartment to go fix something this fragmented. Don’t got a choice, though. Alé’s right: if they find me alone, I’m fucked.

I grab my phone and dial. Shauna picks up on the first ring.

“What you want, Kiara?” Her voice is just as pissed as I expected it would be.

“You still got that car?” Cole’s mama gave Shauna her old car when the baby was born. She’s the only one I know who might just pick me up.

Shauna pauses. “Yeah. Why?”

“I’m in trouble and I need to see Marcus, but I can’t be out on the streets alone right now. I need a ride.” I insert a couple pleases and offer to take care of her baby for her sometime. She doesn’t speak for a while.

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