"Knock, knock." Vera looks up from her Teen Beat magazine with John Travolta's face donning the cover. She returns to the pages when she sees Judith at her mother's door. "Mom went with Rembrandt to Piggly Wiggly, so it's just us. What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she monotonously lies, and her older sister narrows her eyes as if to read her. She steps into the bedroom and immediately, Vera lifts her chin to watch her. "What? I said I'm fine."
"How was the ice cream?" She folds her arms beside the bed, staring down at Vera who's laying on the edge with her left leg dangling.
"It was fine." Vera flips the page and Judith rolls her eyes before turning her back to her. She sits across from her with her gaze fixed on the open door. "Could you get out? I really wanna be alone."
"Does Mom know you have this?" Judith glances at the magazine, then at her. Vera shoots her a dark look, beginning to feel annoyed.
"Does she know about the playgirl magazines under your mattress," Vera asks with a sharp tone and as Judith's eyes widen, she returns hers to the pages.
"What were you doing snooping under my mattress," she raises her voice and Vera shuts her eyes while taking a deep breath. She slams the magazine shut then flings it to her right.
"You sure know how to piss someone off." Judith watches Vera push herself to her feet while glaring at her. "I was in there looking for Jackie and before you flip your lid, this was before you snapped at me and said not to go in your room. Also, I know you won't care, but I found him in the cabinet eating at the pop tart boxes."
"Well, I've told you multiple times to stay out of my room, and who do you think you're talking to?" Judy towers over her and they glare at each other like two bears fighting for dominance. Vera scans her from her afro to her shoes and shakes her head.
"You've always been selfish," she says in a softer voice and Judith lowers her eyebrows. "But I guess it took Dad dying for you to get worse. I often wonder if he'd have been here if it were you that died instead."
"And I wonder how life would've been if Mom and Dad stopped trying for kids after having me." Vera flares her nostrils as her mouth fidgets and she rolls her teary eyes. Judith feels her heart skip a beat and drop into her stomach. "Vera, I'm sorry."
"I didn't realize I was such a burden on y'all," she softly says and after she wipes her face with her palms, she forces a smile. "But it's fine, don't apologize. I never needed you as a sister anyway; I have Stacey."
Judy folds her arms as Vera takes a step back with her eyes locked on hers. She turns around and as she walks toward the stairs, Judith leans against the door with her face buried in her dainty hands. She swears under her breath, lowers her arms, and exhales a weary sigh.
Just let her go, Judy.
She steps into the hall and glares at the stairs.
I'm selfish but I spent the night watching her sleep so she couldn't kill herself.
Judith steps toward her bedroom door without taking her attention off the banister.
I saved her from the torture Stevie's going through, but I'm selfish? The hospital is a piece of cake compared to what they'll do to him in Red Cave, and she's so ignorant. Maybe I should've let her get taken away by the paramedics.
Judith sits her hand on the knob and its cold surface steals her gaze. She turns it and as she presses the door, her eyes peer through the slowly growing crack. She notices someone in blue jeans and a white shirt standing at her window with hair as big as cotton candy. As the stream of light hits him, his black afro turns sandy red.
"Michael," Judy calls for him with an uncertain tone and narrowed eyes. He veers his head to her and as he flashes his pearly whites, she exhales the breath lodged in her throat. "You're here. I thought you were - how'd you get here?"
"I walked," he says before turning his body to face her. She scans his bright hair down to his suede shoes and blinks quicker.
Are those the clothes he died in?
"Yes." Judith darts her eyes onto the hazel ones that never left her and he tells her, "I saw Dad. He misses you, Vera, Stevie. He misses all of you. I miss you too."
"Don't do this," she chokes over her plea so she averts her head to her right and sits her hands over her mouth. He watches tears slide across her fingers and his smile sinks.
"I'm not here to upset you, J.J," he assures her while taking slow, cautious steps closer. She shuts her eyes and shakes her head.
J.J was his nickname for her before he died of cancer. He'd say it in private and she'd feel special, grinning without a care in the world. He'd say it in the presence of others and if anyone tried to call her that too, it was like brandishing a gun in his face: he wanted to fight.
"I just want to let you know that we're okay - me and Dad - and you have to let us go. All the pain you push away from the surface will rear its ugly head when you least expect it." He stops in front of her, towering over her five-one frame by four inches. Michael places his hands on her shoulders and leans down to her level like he used to. She glances at his smile and stares into his kind eyes. "Do what you gotta do to get better, J, even if it means going back to that asylum."
"I can't ever go back there," Judith rushes the words from her mouth before her arms can return to her sides. She bounces her wide eyes from one of his to the other. "If you've been here this whole time, watching me, you'll know why I can't. I'd rather go to jail - or die."
"No, you wouldn't." He straightens his posture and folds his arms, his gentle eyes turning grim. "Stevie and Vera will follow you if you killed yourself, and I think you know that. You're all they have."
"Well, I shouldn't be," she yells and he lowers his gaze to the space between their shoes. "I'm suffering, Michael, and while I'm being everyone's pillow to cry on, no one's checking on me! We're Mom's kids, but I feel like a parent to not just her but every fucking person who needs me and I'm tired!"
"I know she's been - off since I died, and I can't imagine how you feel." Judith sniffles and stares at the window. "But she lost Dad, and Judy he was the first man to love her and her kids."
"You say that like she's seeing someone else. Shouldn't it be, 'he was the only man?'" When he looks away to shield a grin, her lips fall agape and she furrows her eyebrows. "Is she dating someone?"
"Listen, if I tell you, it'll only make things worse. You'll flip your lid, she'll fall into a state of melancholy," he explains before meeting her curious gaze. "Just get some sleep and I promise, soon you too will be au courant."
"Your accent's always been terrible," she reminds him with a faint chuckle and a weak smile. He shrugs while grinning as well. Before they can say anything else, when she blinks, he's gone and so is her happiness.
Vera watches Judith approach her bed, her eyes full of pity at her sister's broken state. She glances downward, then at the banister behind her when the front door creaks open.
"I'll put the groceries away. You go check on the kids and make sure they're actually in the house," Rembrandt instructs Sheryl. As she speed walks toward the staircase, sliding her purse off her shoulder, Vera sprints into her mother's bedroom. She leans against the wall facing the foot of the bed and stares at the lumps on her left elbow and forearm.
***
Rembrandt lifts his can of beer to his mouth filled with string beans and macaroni. Sheryl shifts her gaze from him to Vera who's watching Judy lean on her elbows with a smile brightening her usually gloomy face. She's picking at the food scattered on her plate with her fork and Sheryl glances at her as well.
"Okay, what's going on with you two," Sheryl asks. Rembrandt sits his drink above his plate and as he swallows, he scans the long table at the trio. "You haven't said a word since we got home from the store."
"Um, well, I've been trying to get some sleep," Vera says while tugging at her sweater's left arm when Judith doesn't answer. "This whole - thing with Stevie is making me really nervous, I guess."
"Well, he'll be fine. Them white folks get paid to look after our people, and I don't mind stirring up a fuss if they do something to him." Vera rolls her eyes onto her plate as he looks at Judith. Sheryl clears her throat and raises her glass of red wine. "What about you? You're about as quiet as a church mouse over there."
Judith finally takes her eyes off her plate to stare into his, then she glances around the table and back to her food.
"The hell's her problem," he asks Sheryl while raising his left hand between him and Judith. She sits her drink beside her empty plate and locks eyes with Vera.
"I - don't know. She was already like this before y'all came back." Judith drops her fork and folds her arms on the table's edge.
"You know, talking about me like I'm not here really pisses me off," she says, dragging really. Rembrandt blinks his head back and whips his attention to Sheryl, waiting for her response. Vera purses her lips and brings her chin to her chest to stare at her hands in her lap.
"Well, he tried talking to you and you were too busy sitting there with that grin on your face, acting like you can't hear." Judith darts her eyes over her mother's head and stares at Michael. He's leaning against the arch with his arms crossed and a stern gleam in his hazel browns.
Sheryl and Rembrandt follow her gaze to the empty area by the refrigerator, and she looks at them.
"I'm sorry for my behavior lately," Judy tells them with a forced smile. She glances out of her peripheral at where her brother was standing, then at Rembrandt. "I'm scared for Stevie and it's not an excuse, I promise. I just don't want something bad to happen to him."
"Nothing will." Rembrandt shakes his head as he tells her and she scoffs. Michael clears his throat and she looks around the dining room but doesn't see him.
"Um, can I be excused," Judith asks her mother and when Sheryl nods, she scoots her chair from under the table and they watch her scramble into the kitchen.
Judith makes a beeline to her bathroom, her heart thumping in her ears and throat. Sweat pricks her forehead and trickles down her temples and nose bridge. By the time she reaches her mirror, strands of her afro have clung to her skin.
She can only glance at her reflection before green and red chunks pour from her trembling mouth like a broken faucet. Judith's stomach contracts in her hands, causing her to lean forward and groan in agony.
Through blurry vision, she stares at the vomit on her mirror and sink, and as her right-hand clenches her abdomen, her left-hand reaches for the hot water's dial. Vera walks into the bedroom and around the foot of the bed. She takes a breath to speak and it catches in her throat when she sees her sister.
Judith takes heavy, labored breaths that emit persistent wheezing sounds and when her fingertips graze the handle, she shuts her eyes to let out a shaky sigh. As her heart beats faster, her sight grows darker.
She's practically vibrating against the counter with sweat and goosebumps when her hand wraps around the knob, but just as she turns it, her eyes roll back and she drops to the floor.
Staring at the blurry light above her, she hears her heart slowing down, and eventually, she notices her raspy breaths burning her lungs. Judith's heart stops beating and Vera stares wide-eyed at her from the bathroom door.