the room, and seeing him put a smile on her face. He came over and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek and sat on the other side at the foot of the bed.
That’s when the nurse he’d hired stormed into the room like a hurricane with dreads. Juanita, the fifth-generation healer in her family—yet, the first with formal schooling in the professional sense with a degree—was no-nonsense. She barked, “Chop! Chop!” with two swift hand claps that echoed like a whip being cracked. “Patient needs her rest,” she announced. “No more company.”
Protesting, Calliope said, “Can I have a few minutes with my brother before you put them out please?”
“Plenty of time for that, once you are well.” Juanita fluffed the pillows and filled the water cup on the night table all at the same time it seemed. “You need your rest,” she said. Then she fished a bottle of pain medication from her smock pocket.
Calliope’s eyes dotted toward Jean.
Help!
Jean smirked before coming to her rescue.
“ Ahem .” He cleared his throat after getting Juanita’s attention. He said, “It’s my fault for taking up all the time and she will have a few minutes with her brother.”
He could feel the daggers from Juanita. Jean ignored them. After all he was the one footing the bill. To be precise, he was the one doling out the cash. Knowing that he just spoke of himself as not having the best bedside manners or sincerity, he tried to clean it up. “She only needs a couple of minutes with her brother. I think it will do them good.”
Nurse Juanita’s mouth was tight enough to cut glass, but she compromised. “Five minutes. Then you take medication and get rest.” The hurricane left the room and Jean followed, leaving the siblings alone to talk.
Compton rocked Sean John and a cocky smile. “You look terrible,” he said with the honesty and perspective of a kid brother.
“Well thank you that, that makes me feel better already,” she said sarcastically. “You are no ray of sunshine yourself.”
With the sibling banter exchanged and now out of the way, they got serious. Calliope asked, “Who has been taking care of you?” She knew damn well Mabel wouldn’t step up to the plate in her absence. That would have been like asking the pope to run the Nation of Islam.
If she didn’t know any better, it looked like he poked out his chest. “Been taking care of myself.” Compton dug into his loose-fitting jeans and came out with two palms-full of knots of money. “Doing a’ight too.”
Calliope knew the implications. “When did you start selling drugs?”
The very reason she put herself in harm’s way was because she wanted so much more for her brother than being a dope dealer, like graduating high school, college, and a career … his own family and life pleasures.
Compton sounded too sure of himself when he answered, “Long enough to get my weight up.”
Not accepting the murky response, Calliope asked again. “How long?”
“A few weeks,” he confessed—some of the air removed from his cocky chest this time. The interrogation far from over, she asked, where he got the drugs. Somehow, she felt she already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth.
Compton tried dodging the question. “Why does it matter where I score from?”
“Is it Jean?”
Tight-lipped.
But not denying the accusation was confirmation enough for Calliope. She let out a deep sigh. “Is he forcing you to sell for him?”
“It’s not like that, sis. Don’t nobody and can’t nobody force me to do nothing. Jean’s like the big brother I never had. He holds me down and gives me advice. He holds me accountable and makes sure I’m good the same as he does for Moo-Moo.”
The truth of the matter was that Jean didn’t want that life for his brother either. However, what was he going to do? He tried to talk the boys out of their decision to trap, but once their minds were set in concrete, he insisted in the
That’s when the nurse he’d hired stormed into the room like a hurricane with dreads. Juanita, the fifth-generation healer in her family—yet, the first with formal schooling in the professional sense with a degree—was no-nonsense. She barked, “Chop! Chop!” with two swift hand claps that echoed like a whip being cracked. “Patient needs her rest,” she announced. “No more company.”
Protesting, Calliope said, “Can I have a few minutes with my brother before you put them out please?”
“Plenty of time for that, once you are well.” Juanita fluffed the pillows and filled the water cup on the night table all at the same time it seemed. “You need your rest,” she said. Then she fished a bottle of pain medication from her smock pocket.
Calliope’s eyes dotted toward Jean.
Help!
Jean smirked before coming to her rescue.
“ Ahem .” He cleared his throat after getting Juanita’s attention. He said, “It’s my fault for taking up all the time and she will have a few minutes with her brother.”
He could feel the daggers from Juanita. Jean ignored them. After all he was the one footing the bill. To be precise, he was the one doling out the cash. Knowing that he just spoke of himself as not having the best bedside manners or sincerity, he tried to clean it up. “She only needs a couple of minutes with her brother. I think it will do them good.”
Nurse Juanita’s mouth was tight enough to cut glass, but she compromised. “Five minutes. Then you take medication and get rest.” The hurricane left the room and Jean followed, leaving the siblings alone to talk.
Compton rocked Sean John and a cocky smile. “You look terrible,” he said with the honesty and perspective of a kid brother.
“Well thank you that, that makes me feel better already,” she said sarcastically. “You are no ray of sunshine yourself.”
With the sibling banter exchanged and now out of the way, they got serious. Calliope asked, “Who has been taking care of you?” She knew damn well Mabel wouldn’t step up to the plate in her absence. That would have been like asking the pope to run the Nation of Islam.
If she didn’t know any better, it looked like he poked out his chest. “Been taking care of myself.” Compton dug into his loose-fitting jeans and came out with two palms-full of knots of money. “Doing a’ight too.”
Calliope knew the implications. “When did you start selling drugs?”
The very reason she put herself in harm’s way was because she wanted so much more for her brother than being a dope dealer, like graduating high school, college, and a career … his own family and life pleasures.
Compton sounded too sure of himself when he answered, “Long enough to get my weight up.”
Not accepting the murky response, Calliope asked again. “How long?”
“A few weeks,” he confessed—some of the air removed from his cocky chest this time. The interrogation far from over, she asked, where he got the drugs. Somehow, she felt she already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth.
Compton tried dodging the question. “Why does it matter where I score from?”
“Is it Jean?”
Tight-lipped.
But not denying the accusation was confirmation enough for Calliope. She let out a deep sigh. “Is he forcing you to sell for him?”
“It’s not like that, sis. Don’t nobody and can’t nobody force me to do nothing. Jean’s like the big brother I never had. He holds me down and gives me advice. He holds me accountable and makes sure I’m good the same as he does for Moo-Moo.”
The truth of the matter was that Jean didn’t want that life for his brother either. However, what was he going to do? He tried to talk the boys out of their decision to trap, but once their minds were set in concrete, he insisted in the
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