Page 7

After awhile, lights began coming on inside the house. She immediately closed the curtain in the front room. Ten minutes later, the downstairs light went out. I wanted to see her one more time, and then I would go. I got out of the car and went over the fence again, heading for the garage. But I was too slow. The bedroom curtain closed just as I walked up. I turned in time to see headlights stopped at the gate. I ran behind the garage and made my way back to the car. There were now four cars other than hers parked in the driveway. A sound check of each room let me know that there were eight, maybe nine people in the house other than Mrs. Childers. She was still upstairs alone. I sat there for the next ninety minutes listening and trying to place voices with names. Picking up on Chilly was easy. He was the loudest, and did most of the talking. "I don’t think I like him."
Chilly announced that he was going to bed, and awhile after that most of the people left. I got pictures of each of the players as they came out of the house. The lights stayed on downstairs, but I didn’t hear Chilly’s mouth. I switched to their bedroom.
"Gee, you sleep?"
"No. Just watching TV."
"What you watching?"
"Forensic Files."
"That shit again. Forensic Files, The System, Cold Case Files, all that Court TV shit. Why you always watchin’ that shit?"
"So I can figure out how to kill you. And do you always have to turn on every light in the room?"
"I gotta see."
"I know, but why every light? All you need is one."
"Yeah, well, you’ll be a’ight."
I heard Mrs. Childers mumble something under her breath. But I couldn’t make it out.
"I thought you were coming to the club tonight, Gee?"
"I just didn’t feel like being bothered with all of those people."
"So where you been?"
"I went by Chéz."
"What y’all do?"
"Nothing."
"Chésará didn’t have nothing to do on a Friday night? That ain’t possible. What y’all do, Gee?"
"I told you, we didn’t do anything. We just talked."
"She’s good at that. ‘Bout all she good for is talk."
Followed by more mumbling from Mrs. Childers.
"I want you to do something for me tomorrow."
"I have plans for tomorrow."
"Well cancel them. This shit is important."
"And what I have to do isn’t?"
"Nope. Just more of your usual bullshit."
"It’s your usual shit that’s bullshit," she whispered.
"What you say?"
"Nothing, Chilly. What do you want me to do?"