Months To Years Spring 2018 Months To Years Spring 2018 - Page 19

For My Sisters, Who Died Five Weeks Apart Hanged By Paul Rousseau “ Doc, I need ta git some things offa my chest ‘fore this cancer puts my bones six feet under.”  Don spoke in short puffs of breath, his voice scratchy like sandpaper, his words muddled by a swollen, tumorous tongue. “You ever hear of the KKK, the Ku Klux Klan?”  By Judith J. Katz I nodded. Thinking about feel good ‘bout myself, told me I was one of the chosen, a them is like white Christian. I never got caught up in anythin’ bad they opening the done ceptin’ this one time.” “I was a member of the Klan in the ‘60s. I was just a kid when I joined, must’a been 17 or 18. The Klan made me door to the hall closet. His eyes darted about the room, settling on the door. I Things just fall saw tears. out and I find that “One night they had us young’uns hunt down a black I am too full; the man.” He paused. “Hell, he wasn’t no man, he was just a old and new kid, maybe 16 years old, walkin’ down the street, mindin’ are a jumble. his own business.” The childhood and adulthood He closed his eyes and began to rock side to side, restless a messy pile of and unsettled. Then he grabbed the bedrails with both memories; hands, and squeezed and shook them until his knuckles indispensable turned white and an estuary of veins bulged a deep, dark and Goodwill blue. Tears turned to sobs, his lips curling into a quivering ready. grimace.  What is essen- “I’m sorry I’m cryin’. It’s just that…” tial to keep is obscured “It’s okay to cry, tears are Holy Water, they help cleanse the pain,” I said. I reached over and gently held his hand. 19