disappear

Big brother’s been sneakin’ out fo’ at least three weeks. Mammi say, “just let it be. He fidna be out with his friends.” I don’t buy it.

Couple years back in the day, the world agreed to stop fighting itself, jus’ fo’ a lil’ while, and get its shit together. All dem ol’ white men in their big houses and clean suits decide that the air be too hot, you know? The water’s too hot, too hot for the fish and them in the oceans. We talked ‘bout global warming ‘n’ shit like that at school; Mammi don’t believe in it ‘cuz she say humans can’t destroy God’s world... He make the world perfect jus’ for us an’ we can’t change that.

Big brother stopped believeing in God a lil’ while back, so I stop, too. Big brother’s smart. He get good grades. He probly be going to college an’ he gon’ be makin’ money to take care of me and Mammi, he say. Sometimes, I think that he dun’ know what he gon’ do. He dun’ know how he gon’ save us. He keep tryin’ n’ tryin’ til he figure shit out. That’s why I like my brother - he a fighter.

Mammi say that Daddy was a fighter, too - before The Man say that ain’t nobody can fight no more. Daddy was in the Marines, I think. He was on a boat or somethin’ like dat. When The Man say that he can’t be fightin’ dem “Radical Islamic Terrorists” no more, tho’, Daddy had to go ‘way. Dey “disappeared” him, brother say. Brother say I was too young to remember nothin’, but he say dat Mammi was cryin’ and cryin’ and cryin’... she cry fo’ a real long time, he say.

Big brother’s been sneakin’ out fo’ at least three weeks. So last night, I followed him.

There’s this place under the bridge where the dope dealers be meetin’. Mammi say dat one of the old presidents - Reagan, I think - used ta’ overnight big guns and drugs there so, like, the black and brown peoples can go n’ shoot each other up n’ shit. I think das crazy, cuz’ presidents’ supposed-ta be good to their country, but she and big brother say dat I don’t know nothin’, so I keep to myself.

I’ve gotta be quiet, cuz dere’s people who run ‘round tryna take yo’ money and I’ve gotta watch my back. Big brother, when he go out wid me and Mammi, be mean muggin’ any nigga dat step to him, dat say somethin’ bout Mammi’s ass, dat look at me like they starvin’, dat reach dey hands too far and dey get jumped in the alley. Big brother’s not that far from me, but it still dangerous cuz I ain’t s’possed to be out here by myself.

When I listen hard, I hear big brother and his friends talking. One’a them like, “Ay, yo, I tryna get it in after dis job tonight.”

“That should be the least of your concerns, dumbass.” That’s my brother. I hear a gun cock and my heart starts thumpin’ real fast because I ain’t never seen a gun before in rael life, jus’ in movies and on TV. Mammi would beat us black n blue if she ever saw on’na us wid one. “You need to fuckin’ focus, or else we’re all gonna die. I don’t need you to be on no dumb shit, De’Marco.”

“You need to calm the fuck down, shawty, we just tryna lighten the mood.”

“Yeah, man, cool off for a minute. I’ve got some weed on me if you wanna hit-”

“Hell yeah, I wanna hit. Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“Cuz you sittin’ here all nice and quiet, checkin’ inventory, makin’ sure we all strapped ‘n’ shit, why would I break your concentration? You look like you’s in your element, my nigga.”

“Yeah, well... I’m just tryna get home tonight. Lil’ sis 's gon' curk if she see me gone in the morning.”

“You ain’t got nothin to worry ‘bout. When we’re done here, we gon’ be set for life. Your Ma n’ them gon’ be taken care of good.”

“Ay, an’ I’mma go and take Toya out when we done, somewhere real nice- wid Lobster and crème brûlée n shit like that.”

“Boy, sit your bum-ass broke-ass the fuck down, you don’t even know what the hell some crème brûlée is, shit-dick.” And they’re laughing, because das funny, but I’m too confused to join them. Some more guns click, none of dem fire, and I’ve gotta hold my breath cuz I’m scared and excited and feelin’ too much all at once.

One of da gov'nent's big planes by flyin' 'bove our heads, and we know cuz they make this loud noise as dey chop through the night sky. Big brother hiss somethin' realy snake-like n' then I hear some shufflin'. I wait forever, holding my breath, afraid that it's on'na those people dat be comin' after us black folk. But there's nothin'. For a long time, there's nothin'.

I risk it. I take a peek, real slow, right 'round the bridge's leg. There's a shout, a quick one, a loud one, and the firing starts. I duck back behind the wall, slidin' all da way into the dirt, holding my head. I think I'm cryin', I think I'm screamin', I think I'm totally still, like a rock. There's all kinds of yellin' and firin' and it make my ears ring til dey hurt. But I stay quiet. I stay good a quiet the whole time and, even tho I don't believe in God no more, I pray to whoever is out dere list'n' to me dat my big brother, if anything, stay alive.

When I woke up this morning, the sky was red and everything hurt. I sat up slow, in pain - there was a through-and-through in my side, and I suddenly remembered everything that happened last night. There was a shoot out, between us and the Blues, and we didn't win because all my friends were splayed out somewhere on the ground, littered in bullets, shells sprawled lock pebbles in the dirt.

The walk home wasn't much of a walk and it took longer than I wanted it to be. I had to wrap my wound with a piece of De'Marco's shirt (the dumb bastard), but the pain only worsened after that. The streets were barren, but that's what happens after a fire fight. The books I read in school depicted the people to be lively and worried, a sea of white faces looking on at the ugly mess of black, brown and red at the center of it all. Those books lie. After the war, the city dies.

Mammi was cryin' real hard when I forced my way through the door. I asked her what time it was; she said it was nine. Tiny should've been up by now... I asked her where she was at. Mammi just cried harder and collasped to her knees and she looked so damn pathetic that I didn't move her. I stepped around her body and rushed up the stairs as fast as I could, heart pounding hard against my ribs.

Down the hall is my room and across from it is Tiny's. The door to her is covered in Migos posters and glitter and it's ajar. I drove my palm against it and it swung hard against the wall.

Tiny's bed was made up. The curtains were open to her window and it was open, letting in the only light in the room. The sun glowed unapologetically on Tiny's bed, on her bloody sheets, on her weak slip of bare body.

Tiny was there, asleep, head limp against her pink and gold pillows, breathing slow. Her stomach rose and fell more steady than it should've. Up... down.... up... down...

There was a note next to her lamp, on the nightstand. I didn't need to read it to know that she snuck out last night, or to know that she knew what I've been doing these last few weeks, or to know that she followed me last night and that she saw the murders. I didn't need to read it to know that the "winners" of our little "spat" "celebrated" accordingly after finding a screaming, panicked, disoriented, pretty seventeen year old girl hiding out in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I didn't need to read it to know that they kept me alive for a reason. I didn't need to read it to know that I'd have to disappear soon if I wanted to preserve what's left of my sister's life.