Page 13 of The Deadly Candies

“Well, Butts needs a teacher,”Ely said with a grin.“So, think about it.”

When the truck turned off the main road onto the Jensen farm, Kathy’s heart raced. She saw the fields and the people of Butts working them—some harvesting winter vegetables like collards, turnips, and cabbage. The work reserved for men mostly was the plowing and tilling of the soil for the spring planting of cotton, corn, and soybeans. Down the hill, a group of elders tended to the livestock, their movements slow but deliberate.

“Big Mama will make you work,”Ely said, his voice tinged with sympathy.“It’s not easy. I’ll help you through it.”

Kathy rolled down the window, inhaling the fresh, earthy air.“It’s so warm here,”she said with appreciation.

“Yeah, something ain’t right with the weather lately,”Ely replied.“Expected it to be colder. But it’s nice for working. The summer’s when hell comes.”

“Ely?”Kathy said, her voice tentative.

He glanced over at her as the truck bumped along the dirt road.

“Where’s the Elliot farm? The one my Mama and her sisters are from? I know you’ve heard about them.”

Ely’s expression grew thoughtful.“The Mulatto girls? Yeah, I’ve heard stories. The Elliot farms on the east side. Run by Jeffrey and Mark Elliot now. They hire white folks to work their land, and most of the other farmers sell their crops to the Elliots. They’ve got a big company that supplies grocers from county to county.”

“I want to see it one day,”Kathy said softly.“Will you take me?”

Ely looked at her, surprised but willing.“Sure, Kathy. Anything for you.”

Harlem, New York, 1948

The door lock clicked, and Debbie shot up from the sofa, her heart pounding. The door swung fully open, and Aunt Brenda and Debbie’s mother stepped inside, their faces weary from the weight of the past few days.

“She called!”Debbie blurted, her voice high with a mix of relief and joy.

Aunt Brenda froze, her purse slipping from her hand. It hit the floor with a soft thud. She pressed one hand to her chest and raised the other to the sky, her eyes squeezing shut as she whispered a prayer of thanks.

“She did?”Claudia asked with hope as she clutched her sister in-law’s arm.

“She’s good,”Debbie said.“She sounded good. She made it to Birmingham and was on her way to Mississippi. She said she was safe, that she’d made friends. She wants to come home, Aunt Brenda. She misses you. She promised to call again after church on Sunday.”

Debbie watched as her aunt’s face crumpled, tears streaming down her cheeks. Claudia pulled Brenda into her arms, holding her tight as she murmured soft, comforting words Debbie couldn’t quite hear. Debbie sat still, her own tears spilling over. The world without Kathy felt hollow, like a song missing its melody. They all missed her. They all needed her.

“The bakery’s closed for now,”Claudia said, her voice heavy as she broke the silence.

“What? Why?”Debbie asked, her brow furrowing.

“The men said they need to get a handle on things. I don’t know…”Claudia’s voice trailed off.

Brenda suddenly broke free from Claudia’s embrace and bolted up the stairs, her footsteps echoing through the brownstone. A moment later, the slam of Kathy’s bedroom door reverberated through the house.

Claudia sighed, her shoulders sagging as she turned to Debbie. She walked over to the sofa and sat down, pulling her daughter close under the shelter of her arm.“It’s sad, baby,”she said, her voice barely above a whisper.“It’s only been three days, and everything’s falling apart. Your uncle Henry’s so angry. Every day, he channels that anger toward the Italians instead of facing the fact that he sent his daughter back to Butts.”

“What are we gonna do, Mama?”Debbie asked, her voice small.“Don’t we need the bakery? Isn’t Bumpy Johnson in charge?”

“Hush now,”Claudia said, brushing a hand over Debbie’s hair.“I think Bumpy and everyone understand—for now. They know what we lost when we lost Kathy. The bakery is named after her. Pete trying to keep your uncle steady. There’ll be trouble if Henry doesn’t rein in his anger soon. I just need you to be safe and mind your business. Help Brenda when you can. Okay?”

“Yes, Mama,”Debbie said, nodding against her mother’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna stay here tonight,”Claudia said, her tone firm but gentle.“Your Pa and Uncle Henry are headed to New Jersey for some business for Bumpy. That’s one of the reasons why the bakery’s closed. Go home and pack up some things for us. We’ll stay here until they get back. I’ll start cooking.”

“Yes, ma’am,”Debbie said, wiping her tears. She ached to go upstairs and hug Aunt Brenda, but she did as she was told. She slipped out of the brownstone and into the crisp Harlem evening, her head down and her thoughts heavy with sorrow.

She walked for blocks. She was so lost in her grief that she didn’t notice José sitting on her stoop until she was halfway up the steps.

“Debbie?”

---