Mrs. Hensley rocked her chair slowly, the creaking sounds adding a strange rhythm to this already peculiar conversation.
She rested her liver spotted hands on the handles of her seat. “You want to know the truth about you, Audrey? The truth about all of us?”
I shrugged my shoulders. Her lips thinned at my half-hearted response, but she’d lost me a while back. I couldn’t drum up more enthusiasm than that.
Mrs. Hensley pushed off the rocking chair and stood. Her old, flower-pattered cotton dress billowed in the wind as she walked slowly over to me.
“The truth is, Audrey, that we all got a choice.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes,” she tapped her chest. “Ain’t nobody to blame for the paths we take or the person we become ‘cept ourselves. Ain’t nobody in charge of our present or our future ‘cept our s
