Page 13 of Small Town Beast 2: Saverin’s Duet (Sins of the South)

Hatred burst inside him. Amari kicked her in the leg as hard as he could and bolted for the door. Not fast enough. The white lady caught him, and twisted his ear so hard she lifted him off the ground. His ear went pop . Pain stabbed through his head. He howled.

The lady hissed, “I guess you want me to feed you to the dogs?”

“No! No,” he screamed.

“Then don’t act up, or I will, like I did the last little girl that was in here.”

She took away the orange juice, and the ball. He could barely sleep. It was the worst thing that had happened to him.

That next day Amari woke up to the same room, no ball, nothing. He didn’t get out of bed. He just stared at the wall. He tried to think of a Plan. Not a stupid plan, like yesterday. No, it was going to be a Good Plan.

The dogs started to howl. Amari shuddered and covered his ears.

Impossible , his daddy’s voice said. There is no Good Plan.

Suddenly he heard the front door open, and the click click of somebody’s shoes walking on the floorboards, with the klunk klunk of the ugly lady’s footsteps.

“Is he in here?” came a lemons-and-syrup voice.

“Yeah, he’s in there,” answered Amari’s enemy. Janglejangle went the keys, a sound Amari knew well. He sat up in the bed.

The door opened and a tall, blonde lady stepped into the room. Amari had never seen her before. This lady wore high heels and a flowery blue dress. She had on red lipstick. Sunglasses. She smelled like outside, a smell Amari had almost forgotten.

“It stinks in here,” the woman said.

“He peed hisself,” answered the mean lady. Amari hung his head. He never wet the bed. He wasn’t a baby.

“He wets the bed?” the pretty lady asked sharply.

“Not always.”

“You didn’t tell me he was so old.”

“Old? Naw, Sister Kate, he ain’t old.” Amari’s kidnapper laughed. She was scared of the new lady. She called her “Sister Kate”. Were they really sisters ? The ugly lady moved from one foot to the other as the pretty lady tapped her foot. “I mean, he ain’t more than five…”

“We wanted a three-year old,” said the pretty lady. “Sister Cyrie thinks I don’t know the difference? What about his mother?”

“Drug addict,” answered the ugly lady quickly. “Sold him for a fix.”

“NO,” Amari said. His chest went up and down. Was it true? Was that why Mama didn’t come? Liar ! Liar! He wanted to scream it, but the words couldn’t come out.

“Well, is she going to be a problem?” asked the pretty lady, now looking at her watch.

“No, no.”

“What about his paperwork? I’ll have to give you less if you don’t have paperwork.”

“That’s alright, Sister Kate. An honor— big fan of your husband...”

The pretty lady glared, and she didn’t look so pretty anymore. “You understand, the payment covers discretion.”

“Discretion, yes, your worship.”

“I am not happy about the paperwork. I was told he’d come with paperwork.”

“I– I can ask Sister Cyrie about it.”

“Tell her to see me,” said “Sister Kate”, putting her sunglasses back on. “And I want this boy cleaned up when I come back tomorrow.”

“Yes, yes…”

“He needs new clothes. And a haircut— look at the state of him. You’re not feeding him enough. Does she feed you enough?” This was directly to Amari, her voice sharp as glass.

“N-no,” said Amari.

A cold little smile froze his heart. “Where are your manners, son?”

“No, Ma’am,” Amari whispered.

“I suggest you don’t wet the bed again,” said the pretty lady. And then they both left, locking the door behind them.

It was summer, but a deep chill had crept over Southwest Virginia, and cold wind blew down the chimney and froze Amari’s room.

It was colder than the day he helped Mama make hot chocolate.

Mama let him use the stove, watching him pour the milk and water in the small pot, cutting open the cocoa packet which had small marshmallows in it.

But just as they were about to drink the chocolate with the marshmallows, the smoke alarm went off.

“Mr. Crazy” next door had tried lighting a fire in the chimney.

The whole floor filled with smoke and the alarm went WAA!

WAA! WAA! Mama grabbed Amari, told him to forget the hot cocoa, and they rushed outside with everybody.

Some people were crying, thinking the whole building was gonna burn down.

Other people started yelling at Mr. Crazy.

Amari was angry, too. He never got to eat one single marshmallow and it wasn’t fair.

When the firemen came everybody relaxed.

The younger fireman went inside to check Mr. Crazy’s apartment, while the older fireman let Amari climb up on the truck.

The fireman looked like Santa Claus. He let Amari play pretend with the wheel and toot the horn (once).

That was even better than hot chocolate.

Then Fireman Santa gave Amari a sip of hot whiskey, which annoyed Mama.

The whiskey tasted very bad but when they went back inside the hot chocolate was still hot and Mama had saved some marshmallows from her packet after all, and she gave them to him.

He thought about hot cocoa as he shivered in the tiny room.

It was so cold not even the dogs were running around outside.

This room had a chimney just like Mr. Crazy’s apartment.

But it didn’t have a “stopper” like Mr. Crazy’s chimney did, so the wind and cold came shooting down from the sky into the house through a big hole.

Santa the Fireman said in the old days people used to make fire in chimneys to keep warm.

But since everybody had central heating now, most buildings closed up the chimneys.

It was dangerous to start a fire in a closed up chimney because the smoke couldn’t go outside and smoke could kill you if you breathed in too much. Santa the Fireman taught Amari a lot.

This chimney wasn’t closed up, so Amari could have started a fire in it. Except Amari didn’t have matches, a plastic lighter, or a paper bag, like his school friend Kevin, who had Problems because his daddy was in jail.

Amari bit his lip. If only he could turn into smoke like a genie, he could fly up the chimney…

Amari got out of bed, the stinky blanket wrapped around him.

He walked over to the chimney and pushed the mesh barrier aside.

Wind blew down the chute, freezing his lungs.

His heart went duhduhduhduhduhdhuh, very fast, like it did when he swung high up in the air, imagining what it was like to fly.

He crawled into the fireplace and tilted back his head.

A blue square of pure sky shone through the utter darkness. High above, the cold wind howled. Amari fumbled around with his fingertips until he found a small uneven knob in the brickwork. Then he pulled himself up, one inch at a time.