What Lies Beyond the Veil(Of Flesh & Bone #1)(24)

“What do you want?” she asks, finally gettin’ rid of her headphones.

“Look at what Granddaddy gave me,” I exclaim, holding up my prize possession.

“An empty mayonnaise jar?” Nia rolls her eyes.

“Well, it’s empty now, but it won’t be soon. Check it out.” I open my palm to reveal my caterpillar. It uncurls its little orange body and begins to slink slowly to the edge of my hand. We both watch as the caterpillar lifts its legs, ready to leap to freedom.

“Let me see,” Nia replies, hands outstretched. To my surprise, she seems kinda interested. I eagerly pass the caterpillar into her hands. She ain’t moving, just watching. The caterpillar crawls cross her palms and she laughs. The first real laugh I heard from Nia since our first night in Lansing.

“It tickles!” Nia screeches.

“I know, ain’t it funny?” I giggle.

“Let’s get it in the jar before it crawls away!” Nia wriggles her hands around to keep the caterpillar from falling. I open the lid to the jar, and we watch as the caterpillar slithers inside.

“Now what?” I ask.

“Well, he probably needs grass. And air,” she replies smartly, “so I’ll poke holes in the lid; you look for some nice, green grass.”

“Got it!” I yell, already running out back to the field. I smile big as I run. Most of the time when we do stuff together, it’s Nia’s idea. But this time it’s my idea, and seems like Nia’s actually excited and not just being mean. I find a patch of grass that is bright green and tall. I grab a handful, hoping that when Nia sees it, she’ll think it’s perfect.

I run back to Nia with the grass. She don’t say perfect, but she smiles her best smile at me. We fix the jar up with grass and a little dirt, and Nia uses a small knife from Granddaddy to poke holes in the lid. We put the caterpillar inside and watch him first land on the bottom in a heap, then poke around in the grass, then start to crawl around like he’s finally home.

Nia decides he’s a boy, and we name him Fuzz. Nia lets me pick the name.



* * *





I think back to the last time I spent a whole day doin’ something with Nia. Last year, just before Christmas. Daddy is alive, but things ain’t good. Momma and Daddy yell a lot, all the time. Grown-up words that I try to drown out with my Power Rangers VHS tape. But even with the volume to the top, I know things are bad.

One day is worse than the others. Daddy yells a lot of things at Momma, then leaves the house with an old suitcase that’s got holes by the zipper. And it’s the day of the big snowstorm. Momma goes to work like ain’t nothin’ wrong, but the school calls a snow day for our district. Normally, Daddy stays with us when Momma goes to work, but Daddy don’t come back none that day. Nia is just old enough by law to babysit. I know this cause I hear Momma saying it on the phone. I wonder if my sister is nervous cause it’s her first real time babysitting. But I feel excited. I imagine we might spend the whole day playing school, like we used to.

But when Momma leaves, Nia barely even looks my way. And she only speaks to me once, to ask what I want for breakfast.

After cereal and burnt toast, Nia pops on the TV. I wanna watch Nickelodeon, but Nia makes me watch Momma’s soap operas. I get restless and start to watch the scene outside our window instead. The snow is still coming down, but not as hard now. The giant flakes ain’t in no hurry, as they plop lazily onto the tops of trees, making the whole street a frosted doughnut covered in powdered sugar. I watch the snow fall, then watch cars slipping down the street, then watch a man wearing a robe shoveling snow. Then I’m bored.

“Can we go outside?” I ask.

Nia ignores me.

“Nia!” I yell, just as a woman in her underwear slaps a bearded man on the TV screen.

“What!” Nia exclaims.

“Can we go outside?” I whisper.

“No, I’m watching my stories.”

“Please, Nia. I’m bored! Puh-leeeease.” I give her my very best cute pouty face. I even blink my eyes quick and bat my lashes like I see Nia do to get outta trouble with Momma.

“Fine,” she sighs, “just for a minute.”

I race to the closet and get my coat and boots on before Nia even stands from her seat on the couch. I pull the door open too hard so that the door sticks wide open and I gotta pull it back in and shut it tight. Then I’m gone. I jump right away into a large mound of icy-cold snow and start making a snow angel with my arms and legs flailing wildly. Flakes of snow spin up into the air, landing on my nose in tiny pools of cold water.

Nia sits on the porch, chipping polish off her fingernails. I grab a pile of snow with my bare hands, packing it into a tight snowball. My only pair of gloves has holes in the fingertips, so I’m better off with nothin’. I look around for a target and decide on our front mailbox, which is old and close to falling off. I aim, then fling the snowball with all my might, hitting the mailbox perfectly in the middle.

“Yes!” I scream, happy, just as the snowball hits. But then I watch as it falls slowly from the mailbox, landing directly on Nia’s head with a dripping wet plop. She don’t move; I don’t breathe. Finally, she looks up, wiping snow away with her red palms. Then she stands and takes one step toward me, and another.

“I’m so sorry, Nia,” I start.