her habits was good enough.
âIâve been looking for you, Ysa.â
Her eyes flashed at him upon hearing her name.
âI wasnât worried,â she said confidently, but not smiling. âI knew you would find me.â
âIâve been by your church, hoping to find you there lighting candles. All I saw were little old ladies praying. Then I went by the Chinese herb place and asked about you. I said, ââHave you seen this girlâ¦wears every color in the rainbow?ââ
âNo, you didnât.â
He nodded yes. âI even tried to find you in school. Been thrown into detention every day since September looking for you.â
âI donât go to your school.â
âYou know my school?â he asked.
âNo, no, boy. I donât know your school. I go to a special high school. And youâpardon meâdonât look special.â
He showed her he was wounded.
She laughed at him. âDonât give me that face,â she said. âBesides, you know where I live if you want to find me.â
He shook his head. âIâm not knocking on your door. Not with your grandmotherââ He wasnât sure. He just knew the woman behind the curtain, the one who cursed him, looked too old to be her mother.
âTant Rosie?â She explained that Tant Rosie was her grandmotherâs sister. A grandaunt.
âWhoever she is,â he said, âshe wanted to kill me.â
âShe was scared for me. Thatâs all.â
âScared for you? She was beating you.â
âBeat? Ha! No, no. You exaggerate.â
He exaggerated about being a workingman. About being thrown into detention every day since September. But he remembered the womanâs slap. And Ysaâs sobsfrom the other side of the door.
âAll I knew was I couldnât do nothing. I was worried. Scared. Wanted to protect you, girl.â
She looked about as if anxious that they could be overheard. Suddenly her confidence was gone. He could see her scars.
She said, âWe can talk about something else.â
âIâm sorââ
âForget it.â
Then they said nothing at all. Thulani took a big bite of his pizza before realizing she would never finish hers. Once he was through eating, sheâd want to leave. He was desperate to make conversation. Anything to keep her there, sitting with him for a few more minutes. He wondered if she would care that he had just become an uncle. Or that he had called the EMS and ridden with Shakira to the hospital. Then he thought, talk about having babies might upset her, a girl who took herbs and teas to cleanse her body when she thought that she might be pregnant or worse. He could tell her about job hunting. How every store manager said no and how Yong Moon finally gave in. But heâd have to admit that he had not actually worked today, and sheâd never completely trust him if she knew he had lied.
He could tell her she had pretty hands, but she might run away, like the girl who used to come to him when hedaydreamed on his roof. If he dreamed the wrong thing, the dream girl was gone. Maybe heâd say the wrong thing to Ysa.
âTulani.â She broke the silence. âThatâs too pretty for you. A girl name.â
âMy motherââhe hadnât said âMommyâ or âmy motherâ to anyone except Trumanâânamed me for her favorite poet.â
He could see Ysa found that amusing, which he didnât mind, mainly because she still wanted to talk.
âGo ahead,â Ysa said. âSay some rhymes.â
He laughed. âNot me.â
âI know,â she said with a certain satisfaction. âYou have no art.â
âBut you do.â He returned her smugness.
She didnât catch on. She said, âIâm studying to be an artist. Not like you think, painting pictures. Iâm going to design clothing. Do fun things with
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