What Lies Beyond the Veil(Of Flesh & Bone #1)(70)

“Friends?” She screams the word like it’s poison and she’s gotta rid its venom from her mouth. “My children are not friends with that girl!” This would be the part in the movie where Bobby and Charlotte run over to me and grab my hands, showing they momma she was wrong. But they too busy acting like they don’t even know me.

“Let’s go, Kenyatta,” Granddaddy says, taking my hand to cross back to our side of the street, but when we reach the sidewalk, he turns again to the momma, then to Bobby and Charlotte.

“Our children don’t have to make the same mistakes we did.” Granddaddy speaks, calm. “Let ’em decide who to be for themselves.” Then we cross the street together, Granddaddy holding my hand and me wondering who I would be, if I could decide for myself.



* * *





Later that afternoon, Brittany pulls up in the front seat of her aunt’s car, and they take Nia with them. I don’t know where they’re going, and I don’t ask. Granddaddy sneaks a fifty-dollar bill into Nia’s palm before she leaves, with a whispered “Happy birthday” special for her. She walks out the door with a smile big as Momma’s, like I ain’t seen on Nia’s face in a long time. I’m happy to see Nia smile, but right now, I can’t help but wish her smile was for me.

After sittin’ in the bathroom awhile, not wanting to move, I take an hour-long shower and scrub my skin til it turns pink. No matter how hard I scrub, I still feel Rondell’s touch there, like I been burned and scarred, even though there ain’t no marks. I climb out and towel off, dressing in the oversized T-shirt and stretchy shorts I usually wear as pajamas, even though it’s still afternoon. I don’t feel much like going outside. Granddaddy sits in his wicker chair, reading from his Bible. I sit on the couch watching the muted TV. I wanna turn the volume up but don’t wanna bother Granddaddy, so I watch the characters and make up in my mind what I think they’re talking bout.

In the middle of a made-up story bout a little girl that can read people’s minds, Granddaddy asks, “You ever read the Bible?”

“No,” I answer. “Momma don’t let me touch her Bible and I don’t have my own.” I think for a second, then add, “I’ve read the Bible in the back of the seats at church, though. But I can’t much understand what it’s saying.”

Granddaddy nods, then asks me, “Do you know why it’s important to read the Bible?”

I shake my head no.

“The Bible is filled with stories, just like them books you always reading. But the stories are bout God, and they teach us how we should live our lives.”

“Is that why you and Charlie read the Bible together sometimes?”

“Yeah,” says Granddaddy, “that’s called Bible study. God is happy when we come together to read His Word and pray and worship. That’s what me and Charlie do when we have Bible study.” Granddaddy stands from the rocking chair and joins me on the couch. Then he opens the Bible on his lap, so we can both see the pages. “You can have Bible study all on your own, too.”

“But I wouldn’t know how.” I point at the page. “I barely know what all them words mean. And I don’t know where I’m s’posed to start.”

“You don’t have to know.” Granddaddy shuffles the thin pages. “You just have to listen.” I wonder if he’s talking bout listening to him or listening to God. I watch as Granddaddy picks a page and scrolls his finger through the text til he lands on a spot. “See?”

The page he is on has a word at the top that I can’t read. “What does this say?” I ask, pointing.

“Ecclesiastes,” he says. I repeat it in my head over and over again after he says it, cause it’s a hard word, but I can remember, cause it has a lot of e like cheese. “We’re gon’ read the fourth chapter”—he points at the bold number four in the text—“verses nine through twelve.” I follow along closely, watching the words while he reads aloud.

“Two are better than one,” he reads in a low voice, “because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.” He pauses to look at me. I nod to say, Keep going, so he does. “Again, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.”

I sit there thinking awhile before I speak. I don’t wanna disappoint Granddaddy by saying the wrong thing. “So,” I finally begin, “God is saying He wants us to be together?” It’s not much, but it’s all I know for sure.

“Exactly.” Granddaddy smiles, making me feel better bout my response. “God tells us that we can be stronger if we stick together. Even when it’s tough, we gotta lift each other up.” I think bout how he came to stand up for me outside with Bobby and Charlotte, and nod.

“You know, Kenyatta—” Granddaddy starts, but he’s interrupted by the front door slamming open. Nia bursts in, face covered in tears.

“Nia!” I yell, jumping up. “What happened?”

“Nia?” Granddaddy’s also standing now. But Nia ignores us both, running off to the bedroom and slamming the door. Me and Granddaddy stand there after she’s gone, not sure what to do. Finally, Granddaddy goes to knock on the bedroom door. I hear him knock and knock, but Nia don’t answer. He comes back to the living room and we both sit on the couch, doin’ nothin’. Then Granddaddy turns the volume up on the TV, I think just to cover up all the silence.