Page 5 of Hooked on Loving Him

So your bitch ass ain’t gonna answer or say shit now?

Laughing, I pick up my phone and quickly type a response I know will only irritate Kyce more.

Me:

Wow. Maybe I need to call your pastor instead of Masani because you need to be dipped in his baptismal pool. *singing* take me to the water, take me to the water…or whatever the old ladies sing in the movies during baptisms.

Big Bro:

Go to hell, Kayshon

Me:

*grabbing my chest* Oh God!

Big Bro:

Fuck off my line, nigga

Me:

You hit me up, though, bro

Big Bro:

I’m kicking your ass as soon as I see you

Me:

Why? I’m just making sure you haven’t gotten too sanctified and shit. Call it my civic duty or brotherly love.

Big Bro:

…

The three dots appear before disappearing, causing my laughter to increase as I place my phone back on the desk, knowing Kyce isn’t going to respond to my foolishness. I also know to park in my garage so he doesn’t pop on me when I get home today. Although Kyce has been attending church with his family and in-laws, he hates it when Jawaan and I tease him about it. I don’t have a problem with him attending church, because I appreciate and am grateful to God for sparing his life. Hell, if I’m honest, I prayed every hour after Kyce was shot and lying in a coma. I feel like I added ten years to my thirty-two years of living during that time, so I’m only harassing Kyce because I know it gets him worked up. God is all right with me, and I don’t want any smoke with him.

“Come on in, sweetie. This is Kyce. He’s ten, so you two should get along well.” The woman, smiling broadly, greets me instantly after the front door opens.

Two weeks after Mom’s burial and before I had time to set my clothes in the closet, Grandma Patton died while sitting on the toilet. I was in my room when the mangy dog Grandma Patton owned started whining loudly. After an unknown time passed, with nothing from Grandma Patton to address the mutt, I went to investigate. Seeing Grandma Patton slumped on the toilet with her eyes closed didn’t faze me as much as what I was already dealing with. Calling nine-one-one wasn’t hard, and I did so robotically without hesitation and with a numbness in my body that has yet to dissipate. Again, Mom’s parents refused to take me in, so here I am, entering Rema and Humphrey Gardner’s foster home. Three days after Grandma Patton’s untimely death, my world has once again flipped on its axis.

“Come on. I’ll show you to your room,” Kyce says, unfeeling.

The home is unlike the two I’ve lived in before, as the smell of lemons fills the air. The foyer has high ceilings that make the entrance feel huge. The hardwood floors are spotless as I swallow the lump in my throat and follow behind Kyce. A few paces to the right is the staircase, and an unknown feeling makes my muscles twitchy as we ascend.

“Take him to the room across from yours, Kyce, honey,” Rema says to our retreating backs as Kyce nods wordlessly.

At least I’ll have my own room; hopefully, it’s better than the previous two.

Mom did her best, but money was tight, so my bedroom looked like a shoebox with zero amenities. The room at Grandma Patton’s house was actually her den, which smelled like moth balls as plastic covered the sofa.

“If you need anything at any time, I’m here. One thing I can tell you is that this house has some interesting stuff going on.” With that, Kyce pushes the door to my new room, extending his hand and inviting me into the space.

Wordlessly, I step over the threshold, and my lips upturn when I see a bed big enough to swallow my body. The gray bedding is perfect since it’s my favorite color. The wall behind the bed is also gray, and the other corresponding walls are more of a cream color. There are two dressers against one of the walls, a flat-screen TV mounted across the bed, and a walk-in closet with clothes hanging. There are two shoe racks against the closet wall with shoes lining the shelves. A spark of interest has me moving toward the shoes to inspect them for color, shape, and brand as my lips stretch wider.

“I’m going to my room, man, but don’t forget… I’m here if you need me.” Kyce’s statement causes me to jump slightly as I had forgotten his presence, and my mind registers the change in his delivery.

“Okay. Um. How old are you again?” I ask again for confirmation because Kyce is about two inches taller than me and has an older countenance, which contradicts his youth.

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