Page 2 of The Wright Man

It was our thing.

"Listen, Shrimp... Sometimes grown-ups make choices that aren't good for them or the people they love. Your daddy's been making choices that hurt us. That made home feel... not safe."

Her voice got quieter. "Your brother chose to stay. That doesn't mean he loves us any less. It just means he's not ready to see things the way we do. Not yet."

Images flooded my head. Daddy yelling. Doors slamming so hard the walls shook. Him smashing everything in sight. Me and Kareem hiding in our room with the covers pulled over our heads until Andre told us it was safe.

Mama was right. And I knew she was right. She always told the truth—just enough, without dumping too much grown folks business on us.

I leaned into her side, and she pulled me in, kissing the top of my head.

"It's okay to miss them," she whispered. "And it's okay to be mad. But I promise you, we're going to be happy here. Me, you, and Kareem. And when Andre is ready, he'll be happy with us too."

She didn't say Daddy's name again, and I didn't ask why.

Mama stood back up, brushing dirt and paint flecks from her jeans before she turned to me, "I'm gonna go help Gump move some more boxes before he hurts himself. I'm gonna give you a minute to get your attitude together, and then you're going to help us finish moving everything inside. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am." I muttered, going back to hugging my knees and sulking as I watched Mama slowly walk back to the truck.

From the back of the truck, I heard a loud grunt, the sound of a box hitting the ground, then Kareem's voice—deep and dramatic like he was narrating a show on Animal Planet: "And here he is, folks. The mightiest box-carrier in the DMV. Undefeated. Unstoppable. Kareem Deshawn Wright." Then a pause, and quieter: "Nobody clapping? Nobody? That's fine. I see how it is."

Mama called back without turning around: "Boy, pick that box back up."

I almost smiled. Almost.

I looked around my new yard and my new house, trying to find some of the hope Mama and Kareem were feeling, and annoyed when I just couldn't find it. I kicked at a patch of grass in front of me, scowling at the paint on the porch railing.

"This place is stupid," I muttered to myself. "Green is stupid."

"Why's green stupid?"

The voice was small and curious, but startled me nonetheless. I looked up and blinked at the little girl suddenly standing in front of me. Where the heck did she come from?

She had big brown eyes, skin like cinnamon sugar, and curly hair puffed out on top of her head like a halo. She wore a bright yellow dress that made her look like a tiny sunbeam standing there in the middle of all this green.

I didn't answer right away, just glared at her. Who was she, and why was she talking to me?

She didn't seem to care that I was mad. She stood there with her hands on her hips, unbothered. "Why's green stupid?" she asked again.

I shrugged, still glaring at her. "'Cause it is."

"That's not a reason," she said, folding her arms, her voice matter-of-fact like she knew everything in the world. "You gotta have a reason."

I glared at her harder, but she didn't budge. She just stared right back like she had all day.

Finally, I gave in. "Because it's everywhere," I muttered, waving my hand around at the yard, the porch, the house. "And it's ugly. And gross."

She looked around slowly, like she was seeing it for the first time, then nodded like I had just solved a math problem. "Yeah, it is kind of ugly." she agreed.

Then she paused and tilted her head at me, her eyes narrowed like she was waiting on something.

I knew that look. I'd seen it on Mama. She expected something.

"I'm... gonna go over here now." I mumbled, sliding off the porch and walking into the yard. The grass squished under my shoes. I dropped to my knees and started yanking it out, fistfuls at a time, and chucking it over the fence. It didn't solve anything, but it felt good to destroy something. Even if it was just grass.

A blur of yellow flew past me.

"Broccoli!" the girl shouted like it was a battle cry, skidding to a stop next to me and diving into the grass.