Psychopomp Magazine Summer 2014 | Page 11

—stop the blood and shit—but he was bleedin too much. I couldn’t stop it.”

Redman is quiet behind me for so long after that, I think—just for a minute—I think that he done gone away and maybe who I’m feelin’ grippin’ my neck is somebody else. ‘Cause cain’t nobody seem to stop the blood. Then, “You didn’t say nothin’ to the police ‘bout me, did you, Mia?”

I jerk open the door and throw my grocery bag in makin’ sure it hit the floor and not the leather seats.

“You know, you ain’t lookin’ like your usual fine self, either,” Redman say while he still holdin’ tight to my neck, “You runnin;’ roun her lookin’ crazy as shit. Whatcha know good, Mia?

I twist around without thinkin’ and Redman hand burn my skin as it rip away from my neck.

“Fuck you,” I tell him. But it ain’t my voice. I feel it raw in my throat, vocal cords vibratin’, hittin’ hard up against my throat, but it still ain’t my voice. It’s a deep voice, empty except for the flat line in it, and it want Redman to know. “You can’t stop no blood,” my voice tell him. “It’s flowin’ like a mu’fucka and can’t you and nobody else,” I wave my hand around the parking lot, “ain’t nobody gon’ stop it.” I look at him, but he starin’ straight into the car. His eyes is half closed and his mouth is half open.

“You really. Gurl,” he say, whisperin’ through them half-open lips. "You really trippin’. You need to get this car cleaned up.” And now he look at me with his rock-grey eyes. “Bitch get cho’ self ta gether.”

I turn to throw myself into the car and slam the door shut. Redman look at his hand, frown, and the rub it against his pants leg. I shove the key in and twist it in the ignition, mashin’ on the brake and gas at the same time. The car V-12 rev loud and angry and I like that so I do it a couple more times. I maddog Redman with my face up close to the tinted window before I slam the shift into gear and peel out. As I pass the front of the store, everything around me slow down, and I see real clear for about one second split. Mr. and Mrs. Chang stand in the doorway. Mrs. Chang is a little behind in the shadows. They faces is so sad. Mrs. Chang lips move and I can read them easy. She say, “He’s gone.” Then they both raise they hands and wave goodbye.

After that, things speed right back up again. I look in the rearview and see Redman. He grab at his crotch and pace back and forth, pointin’ after the car with a straight arm and double-barreled fingers. Like he gon do somethin’! Redman can’t do shit ’cause he ain’t about shit! I start to cry for the umpteenth time, those strange tears that don’t never spill over. They just sit in my eyes makin’ everything blur up.

And that’s fine I wanna see in a wet blur. Ain’t shit out there to see anyway. Mmmmph. I had a teacher once used to tell me to look at the big picture. But the big picture ain’t no better than the little one. All these

Shilita Montez | 7