Drowning Is Inevitable by Shalanda Stanley Read Free Book Online

to his collection.
    Maggie was just getting off work by the time we made it to Bird Man’s. Jamie and I made a quick loop around the coffeehouse to check out her new collection. Her paintings were angry this time. No one knew for sure what had inspired that emotion, but I had a pretty good idea.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Maggie asked Jamie as soon as they made eye contact.
    â€œSame ol’ same ol’,” he said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    â€œWhat’s going on with you?” He motioned at the paintings behind us.
    â€œI don’t want to talk about it.”
    â€œSince we’re not talking, let’s go see a movie,” I said.
    We were quiet while we waited in line. But I had to ask, “Are you going to see your mom before you leave?”
    She looked up and answered me with a shrug. “I’ve been thinking about it, but I’m not sure. I don’t even know how to get ahold of her. Her cell was disconnected the last time I tried calling. But that was forever ago.”
    â€œYour dad hasn’t heard from her?”
    â€œShe checks in every so often. He fills her in on what’s going on in my life. But she never asks to talk to me. She probably doesn’t want to see me.”
    â€œI bet she would. We should go down together. A road trip could be fun.”
    She looked at me hard. “And play Where’s Waldo with my mom in New Orleans? Believe me, anywhere she’s staying is nowhere we want to be.” She flicked her cigarette to the ground. Maggie didn’t smoke, not really, but she tried every now and then. I didn’t mention her mom again.
    After the movie we rode around town before dropping Maggie at home and then headed back to Fidelity Street. Jamie sat quietly beside me. The sun was setting. I’d be back in plenty of time before lockdown.
    â€œDo you want to come home with me?” I asked.
    His look said yes. I smelled supper while were still in the carport. My grandmother might be short on sanity, but she made up for it with her cooking.
    Sitting around my grandmother’s kitchen table that night, watching her dote on “that boy,” my life seemed almost perfect.
    â€œMore peas, baby?” she asked him.
    â€œYes, please, Ms. Josephine,” he answered.
    It was perfect as long as I ignored a few blaring untruths. Like the fact that in my grandmother’s house, I pretended to be my mother, and my grandmother pretended she wasn’t crazy, and Jamie, sitting across the table from us, pretended everything in his life was normal.
    Later that night, after my grandmother had locked me in, I went to the window and saw Jamie sitting in the seat of my tree. He was looking in my direction, but he didn’t see me. I climbed out the window and walked over to the tree. Jamie stared straight ahead, giving no sign he was aware of my presence.
    â€œJamie,” I said.
    No response. Sounds of breaking glass and his dad’s yelling came flying out of his house. I turned to look at it and saw that the back door was open, like Jamie had walked out and not bothered to shut the door.
    â€œAre you okay?” I asked. “What are you doing? Come down and talk to me.”
    Nothing. I turned to look at his house again and saw his dad standing in the door.
    Jamie didn’t see him, because he was still staring straight ahead. Mr. Benton leveled his gaze at me. Then he stepped back inside the house and slammed the door.
    His look was a promise of something terrible, but instead of scared, it made me feel brave.
    â€œDon’t worry about him,” I said. “Everything’s okay. You can come down now.”
    Still no response.
    â€œIf you come down, I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I promise.”
    A promise made on Fidelity Street.
    â€œI’ll take care of you.”
    Jamie tilted his head down and looked at me, then slowly climbed out of the tree. I took his hand and