Page 57 of Wings of Ebony
Bri: TRYING!!!
“Answer me, Brian!” The commotion grows louder and I swallow a gasp. ItisBrian. I didn’t know him really well, but he was popular, from East Row. That makes him fam.
“Say something,” the taller of two pops him upside the head with the butt of the gun. The General watches, unmoved.
Brian lifts his head and blood glazes his busted lip. “I… I told you. I don’t fool with that stuff.”
The General gets close to him. “And what would you have us do?” His voice is eerily soft. “You’ve seen our faces, know our spot, you even know how we run our routes.”
“I didn’t ask for none of that, man.”
“You acted cool,” the guy from the coffee shop chimes in. “Like you were looking for work. So Litto”—he gestures at the General—“being the generous man he is, had us show you the ropes.”
This isn’t right. Brian was set to be valedictorian, and sickly talented on the football field. He didn’t screw with drugs. His auntie woulda whooped his ass up and down Homecoming in front of everyone. Literally.
“Nahhh,not like that,” Brian says through swollen lips. “I was just trying to get a job. I like the ink y’all do. That’s it! P-please l-let m-me g-go. I ain’t no snitch, I swear I won’t say nothing.”
“What do you thinkwethink when we see a nigger come in here?” Deo asks.
I dig my nails into the lead in my hand, rage bubbling beneath my skin. I’m going to bash his face in.
“You’ve seen everything. What would you have us do with you, Brian?”
No. No, no, no!
Brian’s eyes grow wide. He knows. He knows they’re going to kill him.
My magic.Everything in me digs for that familiar warmth,clinging to the hope that maybe it’ll work. I chew my bottom lip and concentrate. There’s a warmth inside me, an energy I can’t grasp. I strain harder.
I reach. It shifts.
I grasp. It wiggles away.
My magic is there. But it’s not.
“Get up,” the man shoves Brian. “Go out like a man.” They unloose his ties and one dude grabs the metal chair Brian was sitting in. The General sighs, picking dirt from his nails.
This is a game to them. I’m going to be sick.
My watch vibrates and I creep closer.How do I make a way?If I step out there, they’ll kill me. Then Tasha? And what about the rest of East Row?
Brian holds up his fists, unsteady on his feet as the guys circle. The shorter guy swings the metal chair and Brian tries to dodge. But he’s woozy. It slams across his head with a rattling clang and blood spews from his mouth, splattering the ground.
No!My hands are soaked with tears.Brian. His name is Brian.I say it over and over again, letting his face burn in my mind.
I sneak a few steps closer, still not close enough to swing and hit.
Another blow flies. Brian buckles over, hands slapping the concrete. The General’s shoulders rise and fall in a sigh as the men kick him.
I hate him. I’m going to pluck his eyes out of his skull.
Brian hunches over tucking his head, boots slamming into his ribs.
“Brian,” I whisper, clawing at my scalp.
“You think you one of them smart boys? Too good or some shit?” The coffee shop dude points the gun at him.
“Nah. I-I just I don’t wanna sell that shit. It’s not for me!” Brian weeps, hugging his knees, and they mutter something I can’t make out. I ease past a tower of discarded crates to get even closer and my shoes squeak.Shit!
