Picking Up the Ghost

Chapter 1 - It's a Big World

Cinque tore through fourteen years worth of junk, trying to find just one more sneaker. At the bottom of the pile he uncovered a comic book his Ma bought for him at a thrift store back before he could read. On the cover the Fantastic Four surrounded the Molecule Man who was counter attacking with a wand in each hand.

He brushed his dreads away and opened to the middle, a picture fell into his lap. It had come with the comic book. Back then in ignorance and wishful thinking he was convinced that it was the father he'd never known and the comic was a secret gift but later on his Ma told him it was an androgynous singer and actress from the eighties named Grace Jones. He smiled at the naiveté of his younger self, and dropped the comic and the picture back on the pile.

Cinque gave up on finding a matched pair. He accused the shoes of abandoning him, though he knew that didn't make any sense. A father might walk out on him but a shoe wouldn't. He still had a black one and a white one; at least they were for different feet. The high tops were from different brands and the mismatched soles made him walk lopsided as he picked up his bag and went downstairs toward the smell of pancakes.

He came downstairs as his Ma rushed past in her waitress uniform. He was about to ask if she knew what happened to his missing shoes, but she cut him off, "Are you just coming down now, boy?" Without waiting for an answer she kissed him a quick goodbye and rushed off to work.

With a muffled, "Morning," he joined Darren at the table, and tried to get as much food in him as he could while he could. His older cousin acknowledged him with a nod and a mouthful of pancakes.

"Good morning, Cinque," said Grandma as she wiped the stove. For Grandma, meal time was a lesson in punctuality, not entitlement. Meals were served in windows of time, not amounts. Miss the breakfast window and you went hungry until lunch. Grandma's stern look reminded him of this rule. Her strict timekeeping didn't make the boys especially punctual but it did make them accomplished speed-eaters and that was good enough for her. Two teenage boys shoveling food into their mouths made poor conversation and Grandma didn't try to talk to them; instead she talked at them, reciting pieces of wisdom that she thought the boys needed to know, hoping some of it would sink in.

"You boys should know that Mark Twain said, 'If you tell the truth you don't have to remember anything,' tangled webs and all that."

The boys reacted their usual way, hearing more than listening as they cleaned their plates and issued hurried goodbyes. Maybe Grandma hoped that starting off the boys with an anecdote like this would help keep them on the right track through the rest of the day. Maybe it did, because for a couple of boys living in St. Jude, Cinque and Darren were pretty good kids. Cinque did well in school and Darren had high hopes for the future.

Darren's long legs carried him over the steps and through the yard before he turned to give Cinque his daily well-are-you-coming-or-not look. Almost instantly it changed into a what-fool-thing-you-onto-now look.

"Whatcha got on yo' feet, boy?" Darren asked while Cinque closed the door.

"What's it look like?"

"Looks like you gone blind last night. Get back up in there and find some shoes that match."

"I can't. These are all I got."

"What happened to the other ones?"

"They're gone. I looked everywhere. They must have walked off on their own," Cinque said.

Darren looked at Cinque. Cinque looked at Darren. The older boy gave up and turned away. "Do me a favor. Do us a favor. Get a new pair of shoes, quick like. I don't want your weirdness to be rubbin' off on me at school. Understand?"