And Ruin Followed Behind Her

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

After moseying around the park, I considered touring the old high school where I used to work but decided against it. Principal Anderson was long dead—eviscerated by demons right in front of me—and no doubt some other racist lackey took his place. There would be another token black teacher hired after me, and that teacher would be bearing the brunt of the PTA’s not-so-subtle prejudices perpetrated against her for the heinous crime of existing while black.

I didn’t need any of that in my life. So instead of walking southeast from the park in the direction of the school, I headed northwest across the train tracks toward my old house. Even though it had been years since I traversed the streets of Chandler, I remembered the route like I had never left.

While downtown Chandler looked dilapidated, my street looked better than ever, and with good reason. I had been paying not only my mortgage since we left, but the mortgage of everybody on my block. The extra money allowed the street to thrive, grow, and repair itself. Every house had pretty, white picket fences, new paint, and the makings of fine gardens which must have smelled wonderful in the summer. It was some real Leave it to Beaver type crap.

I didn’t owe anybody a dime after I came into Aziolith’s treasure, but the truth was that the people on that block helped us along when we needed it most. When Mama didn’t have enough daycare clients to make her mortgage, two more kids from the block magically enrolled. When Mama got sick while I was in graduate school, and I couldn’t drive home to help her, there was always somebody willing to check in on her for me.

None of those sons of bitches from the “good” side of the tracks helped us along when we needed it, but my neighbors did, and they deserved some repayment when I got up in the world. A rising tide, after all, should raise all ships.

It was a nice day in Chandler, unseasonably warm even in December. When I turned up the street to my house all of my old neighbors were on their porches, sitting in their rocking chairs and waving to me as I passed. Even though I looked completely different, they all recognized me immediately. Gone was the blond hair that the high school forced upon me. Now, I kept my hair natural. I wore it in a tight afro, well-manicured from weekly trips to the finest salons in Paris and London.

“Is that you, Julia?” one of the old, black women shouted from her rocking chair.

“Nice to see you, Miss Gilbert.” I waved, walking toward her picket fence.

She hobbled down the stairs to shake my hand. “Well, well. It’s nice to see you in the flesh. The only time I heard from you in the past two years was when you sent those checks.”

I laughed. “Yes, it looks like you’ve been able to do some mighty fine work on your houses with it.”

Miss Gilbert nodded. “And we’ve been keeping up with yours, too, Julia. Even with that new tenant you got. We been keepin’ an eye on her. Seems like a nice lady, though.”

My brow furrowed of its own volition. I kept the house more for my mother’s sake than mine, but I didn’t rent it out. Why would I? I didn’t need the money.

“What do you mean, tenant?” I asked.

“Don’t you know? She moved in a couple days ago. Said she was waiting for you to come back. I told her she would be waiting a long while, but she didn’t seem to mind. I guess it’s her lucky day.”

“Excuse me, Miss Gilbert. I need to go. It’s nice to see you.” I turned away from her and headed towards my house at a quicker pace.

She nodded. “And you. I saw the obituary in the paper. We’re all sorry to hear about your mama. She was good people. We’ll be at that funeral tonight. You believe that.”

“Thank you.” I smiled and waved as I walked away from Miss Gilbert, but inside my head I wasn’t happy. I was furious. Somebody was squatting in my house and waiting to see me?

When I stepped up onto the curb and looked at my old house, I barely recognized it. Gone were the ramshackle shutters and high grass, replaced with beautiful white paint and new red shutters, along with a perfectly manicured lawn. The front gate no longer wobbled and creaked. Mama had always wanted to fix it something fierce, but never had the money when she lived here. I wished she had a chance to see it before she died. It would have made her so happy.

I was halfway up the stairs to the front door before I realized that I didn’t have a key. I didn’t have a key to my own house and didn’t feel like going back to Aziolith’s cave to find it. I would just have to knock and hoped whoever this tenant was answered it.

I banged on the door, harder with each rap until I was slamming on it violently again and again. The door shook on its hinges, but still nobody answered.

“What do you want?” I heard behind me.

I turned to see a young, black woman at the bottom of the stairs, holding a paper bag of groceries. At the sight of me, she dropped the bag and started to stutter. “You—It’s—It’s you—”

“I seem to be at a disadvantage,” I told her, “because you know me, and I have no idea who you are.”

The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a picture. “I’m Adelaide Stevens. My daughter—” She pointed to a picture of her with her arms wrapped around an adorable, little, black girl, laughing big with pigtails and a bright pink dress. “—her name is Kimberly. She was . . . she was taken from me.”

I stepped down the stairs. “That is a tragic story, but I don’t see what it has to do with me.”

“She was—” Adelaide said, carefully looking down the street on either side before leaning toward me. “She was one of you.”

“Excuse me?” I said in a huff. “You’re black, too.”

“No. Not black. That’s not what I meant. Well, she was that. She was—we are—pixies—just like you.”

“Oh,” I said, calming myself. “Well that’s different. I still don’t know what that has to do with me.”

“Elka was a great friend of ours,” Adelaide replied. “Right before—well, right before she died, she told me to find you if we ever needed anything.”

“Find me?” I said, furrowing my brow further. “We barely knew each other.”

“Be that as it may, that’s what she said, and I need your help, so that’s what I’m doing.”

“Your kid is adorable,” I said, “but this is a police matter.”

“It doesn’t matter to the police!” Adelaide screamed too loudly and the whole street gasped as they watched us argue. “Look, we both know a little, black kid in Colorado ain’t top priority to nobody, but Kim is special. She barely started unlocking her powers. The police wouldn’t even know what to do with her if they found her.”

I swallowed hard and looked down at my watch. The funeral was starting soon. I had to get back to the parlor. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”

“No,” she said, tears streaming down her face. She grabbed at me as I walked past her. “Please! She’s my only baby. Please!”

But I didn’t stop. I weaved around her hands and walked straight past the picket fence. The woman broke down screaming into her busted groceries as I walked away, but I couldn’t be caught in some damn foolish chase for a child. That wasn’t my business.

*