I struggled to hold in all she told me.

It felt like I was listenin' to that old crone again, with the way she told her life to me. It weren't nothin' boring, either, which made me want to remember it all. But I couldn't hold it all in, not when I heard some of the horrible stuff she had to go through. So when she offered to take me out for some sweet tea and popsicles, I felt honored. She was, after all, like some kind of walkin' royalty to me now.

Sittin' on the steps of the store, same one she found me in front of the day before, I looked out over the town. I caught gazes and stares, like I was some kind of exhibit at one of them zoo things. They'd turn their lips up in disgust and then mutter among themselves before pointing until they noticed I was starin' back. Then they smiled like they wasn' jus' sayin' something rude about me and go on with their business.

I'd wondered how it'd felt when I'd catch glimpses of all the injustices in places on tv. Unarmed black children bein' shot dead for walkin' home; I figured they must have had it ten times worse than this. I ain't ever seen no one with skin darker than mine until Rivka, so I must have stared real hard at her to start. Like she was something else, some new animal to study. But that weren't right, I know now. She was a queen. The chill of the popsicle sliding down my fingers made me lick up a stripe of the syrupy liquid, just missing the clink of the bicycle headed towards me.

The boy on it had dark hair that did a weird swoop upwards, like he got his head licked by a cow. His face was scrunched up and he was sweatin' buckets. He must have been struggling to breathe, too, because he was hunched over on the bike and hardly sayin' nothin' when he stopped in front of me. I stared until he looked up, having caught his breath.

"Excuse me, you wouldn't happen to know where the library is, would you," he asked, his voice soft.

I didn't know the answer to that. I hardly knew what a library was 'posed to look like. I s'pected if I asked one of them old ladies starin' at us, they'd know. But I don't think they was willing to tell me 'long as I was with this boy. My own brows scrunched up as I tried to think of somethin' to say to him.

"Don' know," I replied, coming up with nothin'.

"Oh," he sighed.

He kicked off his bike, knocking out the little stand for it to rest against the railing by the steps. He gestured to the open space on the steps. I was guessin' he wanted to take a seat, so I nodded and he did. Closer to him now, I saw that he had eyes as brown as the backs of the gators in Rivka's swamp. They shone a bit against his face, reddened from all that effort he must have put in on that bike. He turned his face and I turned away, suddenly real interested in my popsicle. I could see his wide, teeth-bearin' smile from the corner of my eye and my gut dropped like an apple from a tree.

I didn't know what this feelin' was but I didn't like it. I just wanted to eat my popsicle and not roast in the afternoon sun. I bit angrily into the ice cold treat, the chill sinking so deep into my gums it stung.

"I'm Max," he said, holding out his hand to me.

I eyed it for a moment, a little surprised. Ain't never shook a boy's hand before; not while I was with Mama. "Alma," I said, not taking it.

"That's a pretty name," he remarked, droppin' his hand. I thought for a moment his face had gotten even redder, but I think it was just the light.

I didn't say nothing in reply, just bit into the popsicle again. I couldn't think of nothin' to ask, either, so a silence sat between us for a little bit. I heard Xerxes mew from somewhere above me but didn't look up, afraid my face would be just as red as Max's. Aside from that, I could hardly string words together with the heat, the boy beside me, and the popsicle in my hand. I was meltin' away in my own little world when he tried again.

"So, how long have you been here," he asked, his eyes down on his hands.

"Just got here yesterday," I answered.

"Oh."

"Yep."

"I came down today," he said, a break in his words like he was tryin' think about how to say it, "My mom sent me to visit my uncle."

"What for?"

"She said I needed to get outside more, be in the fresh air."

"There's plenty o' that 'round here," I noted absently, finally lookin' up at him again.

A nervous smile lit his face up as he looked up, too. "Yeah, I've seen."

"So, who's your uncle?"

"Reverend Marsellas."

I nearly choked on the chunk of my popsicle I'd bitten off, the cold treat going down too fast. His eyes widened big as a doe in headlights, as I think mine did, and then he was patting my back while I coughed. When the short spell had passed, I wanted to laugh. I musta looked like a damn fool. Wild-eyed and suddenly in his space.

"You's his family, huh? He's a real treat."

"I guess? I don't see him often," Max stated, leaning back and looking away again.

"Did he say anythin' about this place? 'Cause I already got stories to tell and I hardly know anyone!"

I didn't know why I was so excited, but I liked not being the only outsider. I wasn't the only one left behind. I felt like there was a lot I was behind on, not knowing nothin' from years with Mama. She said if I was too smart nobody would want me. I drew away from Max, realizing how much in his space I was. His jawline looked sharp enough to cut me, his cheekbones soft and nose pointed like an arrow at me. I thought he looked right pretty, but didn't say. I didn't think I was 'posed to be tellin' boys they looked pretty.

"He didn't tell me much," he said with a shrug, "Just not to head out towards the bayou alone."

"Why?"

"Didn't say."

"I think I know why." I puffed up my chest, pleased that I knew something more than someone else.

"Well, why?"

"'Cause a witch lives there."

"That sounds fake, but okay," he replied after a moment of staring at me.

"Honest! I ain't foolin'!"

"I know." He had this guilty undertone to his voice as he rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. "Uncle Marsellas told me."

"But I thought he didn't tell you anything?"

"You looked like you wanted to be the one to tell me."

Something told me I was pouting, 'cause he stopped talking for a little bit. He fidgeted with a loose thread on his jeans while I chewed on the popsicle stick in my hand. I needed to break something, but I couldn't hit him. As much as I wanted to deck the kid for lyin' to me, Mama's voice rang out in my head. You don't go hittin' boys; they gonna take it as a sign to hit back and then you'll be sorry.

"He told me you were staying with her for some reason," Max tried, testing the waters for conversation.

"Me, by name?"

"No, he just said 'a redheaded girl'."

"Oh."

Silence sat there with us again, but it was a little more comfortable than the last time. This was awkward, but I knew sayin' it out loud would make it even more so. I took a peek at his face again just as he did mine, before he shot up like a rocket and went back to his bike. He was moving fast as a bat outta hell, flustered and face red. Part of his head blocked out the sun, leaving him all shadowed. I had to close one eye and squint the other to get a good look at him as he said something about being called off. He was gone as suddenly as he'd appeared, his presence replaced with Rivka's.

Not that I was bothered. She handed me another popsicle as I stood up. Xerxes' yawn sounded in my ear, now that I was level with him. He hopped off the railing and onto my shoulder, little claws digging neatly into my skin. A soft hum left me as I started on the treat in my hand, chocolate already smeared around the corner of my lips with my first bite like I was some baby.

Rivka chuckled, licking her thumb and wiping some of it off my face. I reckoned she had plenty to say about my messy eating, but I wasn't gonna hear it. Not when it was so nice to have something cold and sweet on such a hot day. The heat made me sleepy, but another kind of heat—what was that dang thing?—was bothering me. I was a twitchin' mess, itchin' to tell her about the boy I'd met only second before she came out of the store.

She held out her hand, the amused smile still lifting up her lips.

"Hold my hand so's you don't get lost," she teased, makin' me fidget worse. I weren't gonna hold her hand like some child, I'd told myself, but I found myself doing it anyhow. She laughed again, a clear musical sound that differed a whole lot from the heifer laugh Mama had.

I brayed out a laugh right on with her, hand in hand as we went on home.

 // feels like a cop out, doesn't it? not hearing her story, but getting Alma's reaction. there's a good reason for this, and part of that has to deal with the remainder of the story. which i finished outlining, which is odd because i never outline anything! 

please remember to click that vote button and comment if you enjoyed this chapter! cheers, rem.

QUESTION TIME: What's your favorite thing to eat/drink when it's super hot out?