Page 158 of Chemistry: The Chemist

Because I couldn’t get to The Triad of Ara, The Triad of Ara had come to me. He adjusted his glasses, taking a second to gather his thoughts. At the clearing of his throat, the pit of my stomach emptied. The hollow dwelling was where my heart rested. The dread on Priest’s face was daunting. He cleared his throat a second time.

“My sisters?”

He shook his head.

“My brothers?”

I could feel the contortion of my face as I asked one question after the other.

He shook his head again.

“No.”

I waited for him to continue.

“Your father,” he revealed.

The oxygen in the room evaporated.

“He is no longer with us.”

Comprehension was farfetched. I couldn’t… I didn’t understand what he was telling me.

“Come again.”

“Richie is no longer with us.”

My stomach flipped twelve hundred times in a matter of seconds. My heart struggled to continue beating, continue pumping. Half of it had been ripped from my chest.

“We are keeping his remains safe. They will not go underground until you touch soil.”

I ached, awfully. And though I wanted to know the rest of the context of the meeting, I’d reached my capacity.

“I– I need to– to go get my head together.”

“Business, Chemist. Business.”

“You’re telling me my fucking pops died and you want me to talk business? Nigga, are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Composed Chem. Where is he?”

“Fuck him and fuck business.”

“This isn’t The Triad of Ara business,” Priest whispered. “This is Chemistry’s business. I’m only here out of courtesy. Don’t waste my time and I won’t waste yours.”

“Speak, nigga.”

“Your father made arrangements before he left us.”

“Arrangements?”

“A sacrifice.”

My eyes grew as my heart shrunk, constricted and confused.

“A sacrifice?”

It was a commandment, but one that had never been utilized. It was one of the many we were aware of but hadn’t exercised.

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