Read Out a Order Online

Authors: Evie Rhodes

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense

Out a Order (10 page)

BOOK: Out a Order
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Chapter 22
M
ama watched as Aisha climbed from the car with her mother. Nikki, Aisha's mother, looked shell-shocked. She was a young mother. She had given birth to Aisha at the age of fifteen. She was neither equipped nor prepared for the fate that had befallen her daughter.
On the other hand Aisha's eyes shone bright with both fear and knowledge. Mama keyed in on it straightaway, although Nikki hadn't a clue. They had just come from the second round of doctor visits empty-handed. None of them were able to provide a clue as to why Aisha had suddenly lost her speech.
They were chalking it up to emotional and psychological. Asking all kinds of insane questions. To which Nikki had taken deep offense. Her daughter was not crazy. Neither was she for that matter.
That's why she never went to doctors. But she was so afraid for her daughter she had relented. She wished she hadn't, because they didn't seem to know a damn thing.
Knowing she was stressed out, Mama called out to Nikki from her front porch, “Nikki!”
Nikki turned at the sound of Mama's voice.
“Child, bring that baby over here to me,” Mama yelled out to her. She wanted to see the child up close as well as find out if she might be able to get a moment alone with her.
Tears shimmered in Nikki's eyes as she did what Mama requested. When she reached the front steps of the porch Mama didn't waste any time. “What'd them there doctors say, Nikki?” she said while gathering Aisha close to her apron strings for a warm hug. The child was trembling. This angered Mama.
“Aw, you know, Mama, they said the same old thing. Bottom line is they just don't know. I'm gonna have to try to apply for some special schooling or something because she can't attend regular classes anymore. I don't have that kind of money.”
Mama drew Aisha closer to her while she stared in Nikki's eyes. “Now, you hush your mouth about money, child. You're gonna have what you need. I got a few dollars put away for emergencies. This is one if I ever seen it. So you just find out what you need and let me know.”
“No. Honestly, I couldn't—”
Mama cut Nikki off in midsentence. “You can and you will. I ain't fixing to take no for an answer. Now, why don't you go lie down and rest a bit? I'm going take Aisha inside with me, give her a slice of my lemon meringue pie, and she and I's going to spend some time together. Okay?”
Nikki nodded, grateful. She hugged Mama before leaving the porch. “You're a godsend. I'll come back for her in a little while.”
Mama nodded. “God ain't sent all he's gone send yet, Nikki. You just remember that.”
Although Nikki thought that an odd statement she only nodded. Everybody knew Mama wasn't like the rest of them. She never had been. She'd fed, babysat, and clothed more babies in their neighborhood than any of them could remember. And she'd always been prone to strange sayings.
Now she was coming to the rescue again with money. Nikki said a silent prayer for Mama and went into her house. Mama gathered up Aisha, taking her straight to her sitting room where she could get to the bottom of things.
Aisha loved Mama; she always had. Mama was sweet and warm, and had always provided Aisha with all the things grandmothers were for. Aisha felt especially close to her because her own grandmother had died when she was younger. She had overdosed in a drug house.
The scars on her arms from Old King Heroin had been a testament to the pain living inside the woman. Her arms had been covered from top to bottom in tracks. There wasn't an inch of flesh that hadn't been scarred from the needle.
Although she was a junkie she had loved, as well as provided for and nurtured, her daughter and granddaughter. Her death had left a deep void in both Nikki's and Aisha's life that had never been filled.
Nikki stretched out on the couch in the living room after kicking off her shoes. She was exhausted. She had been a nervous wreck as well since she discovered that Aisha could no longer speak. She was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.
Mama cut Aisha a nice slice of pie and sat down next to the child after pouring her some cold milk as well. This was going to be delicate because of Aisha's age. But she knew what Aisha had seen. She only needed to make her speak of it. She had to face it, so she could begin the healing process. That couldn't happen unless she overcame her fear.
Papa, who sat in the living room but could see into the sitting room, cut his eyes in Mama's direction. He'd told her not to meddle, but he'd known better. He'd been reading Scriptures on a nightly basis ever since Mama had uttered the words
rockabye, baby.
He shut his eyes tightly against the shrieking, tormented cries of long ago. They were all running against the wind. The past had a way of catching up to folks. Now it was pronouncing its evil, holding this child in its clutches. And she wasn't the worst of it.
He knew Aisha was only meant to be a witness. The worst of it lay beyond his door being enacted out on the streets, penetrating the flesh. It was if he'd ever seen it, the active order of the principalities of darkness.
Mama placed a warm hand over Aisha's. Papa returned his attention to reading the
Star Ledger
newspaper. Better to let Mama do her work. Much as he didn't want to be involved, he knew there was no choice. That's why he was getting prayed up and reading his Scriptures.
Aisha bowed her head and stared at the lemon meringue pie, but she didn't touch it. She didn't acknowledge Mama's hand over hers either. Mama pursed her lips before speaking. “Aisha?”
The child didn't look up.
“Aisha, this here's Mama talking to you. Look at me, child.”
The only response was the trembling of Aisha's hand. It had taken on a life of its own. It was shaking with the furor of a tidal wave. Mama's hand, which covered hers, was every bit as mobile.
Mama lifted Aisha's hand, trying to rub warmth into it. She willed stillness into the child's hand.
“Aisha. Baby, don't be afraid.”
Aisha lifted her head as though by remote. That awful stench, the one that had plagued her since she saw the Darkling, reached her nostrils. The name of the thing just popped into her head out of nowhere.
The Darkling
. There it was.
Now she knew the thing was called the Darkling. She could also sense that it had female traits, as well as male traits, but she didn't know how she knew that.
She also knew Mama couldn't smell the stink of it and she couldn't even ask her. She wrinkled her nose. It was like rotting eggs that had been hidden for a long time. She convulsed and threw her head back in the air.
“Oh no, you don't, demon.” Mama was on her feet. “In the name of Jesus the Nazarene, she ain't one of yours.”
Quickly Mama retrieved her bottle of holy olive oil, splashed a cross over Aisha's forehead, and spoke once more. “In the mighty name of Jesus, not this child.”
Aisha's head righted. Her body stopped convulsing. She looked at Mama scared, confused. Mama dabbed at the bit of spittle that was forming at the child's mouth with her apron string.
“It's all right, baby. It's all gonna be all right. Mama's here.”
Aisha sniffed the air. The foul stench was gone. With a steady hand she covered Mama's hand with her own for a brief moment. Then she reached for her fork, sticking it into her slice of pie.
“When the Lord is ready for you to speak to his glory, Aisha, you will. Jesus is there for you, baby.” Mama now knew with a certainty there would be no forcing this child to speak. It was not on their time.
Aisha nodded. She didn't feel as scared as she did before. When Mama had said Jesus' name and made the sign of the cross on her forehead the bad smell had gone away. In that moment Aisha had known two things. One was the power of Jesus Christ. Two was the fact that she would one day speak again when it was time.
She took a sip of her milk, smiling at Mama. Papa had given up all pretense of reading his paper a while ago. He traded looks with Mama over the child's head.
Chapter 23
M
ama had barely returned Aisha to Nikki when a sight for her old tired eyes pulled up at the curb of her house. Painstakingly slow, one arthritic leg took hold on the sidewalk as Shonda's nana mama climbed slowly from the taxi.
Although she and Mama spoke frequently by phone, it had actually been a few years since they'd had a visit in person.
Nana Mama, as she was known by her oldest living friends, what few there were left, that is, smiled at Mama. The taxi driver helped her onto the sidewalk. She paid her fare, then hobbled on down the walkway up to Mama's house on her cane.
When she finally reached the porch Mama just grabbed her and hugged her. Papa smiled from his place on the couch at the sight of Nana Mama. She was one of the truest people he had ever known.
Besides, there weren't too many of them left. Certainly there weren't many of them that had been there on that night. On reflection with startling realization Papa became aware it was just the three of them left—Nana Mama, Mama, and him. All the others were already dead.
Being the gentleman he was, Papa rose from his seat upon Nana Mama's entry into the living room.
She smiled. “Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?” She beamed. Papa was dressed to the nines as usual with a razor-sharp crease in his trousers and matching suspenders on his crisp blue shirt. In his day he had been one dapper man.
Papa had been as sharp as a tack and as handsome as the day was long. There was many a teary eye when Mama snagged him. But what God put together let no man put asunder, for Mama and Papa were going nigh on sixty years of courtship and marriage, and it was obvious they still loved one another as much as the first time they'd met.
They were childhood sweethearts. They had grown up together as children. You could see the sparkle and spark strong as ever when they looked at each other. Their friendship and love had held tight throughout the time.
Nana Mama sat down with Mama's assistance in the rocking chair. “George,” she said, addressing Papa by his given name, “you gone on and sit down now.”
Papa smiled. He grabbed the crease in his trousers, while sitting down. It was a gesture of old.
Mama took her place. She was about to speak when she scrunched up her eyes in pure aggravation. One of Nana Mama's eyes was black and blue. In fact her skin had dark patches of blue black in varying degrees, along with purple splotches covering her skin.
She could also see the red welt marks around her neck. On closer inspection Mama noticed that she was much frailer than the last time she'd seen her, and she didn't think it was just age. Fury welled up in Mama's bosom.
Papa was following Mama's train of thought. Sometimes that happened even when they didn't speak to each other. He reared back in his seat as the word
abuse
took its place in his mind.
Mama came straight to the point. “Nana Mama, what's going on?” She shut her eyes. “Please don't tell me what I think.”
Nana Mama cast her eyes downward in shame. She didn't want to burden her friends with her pain and all, but she had nowhere to turn. She couldn't take much more of the fierce beatings Shonda was giving her and still survive. Not to mention the emotional drain. And she desperately needed somebody to talk to.
“That girl's been beating you?”
Nana Mama nodded.
Papa shook his head.
“Aw, Nana Mama, that child is the devil's ware. I never thought I'd see the day,” Mama huffed.
Nana Mama was quiet.
“Well, so be it.” Mama pointed her finger. “But whatever beating you done took is to be the last one, and I mean that on my dead mama's grave.”
Tears sprang to Nana Mama's eyes. Papa knew her pain would come to an end, because his Mama was always swift to action. He heard the determination in her voice and knew they would do whatever needed to be done to help Nana Mama.
He smiled reassuringly. “Mama's right, Nana Mama can't go on. You know that.”
She nodded. “Yeah. But it's not such an easy pill to swallow. That child is flesh of my flesh. We ain't supposed to abandon our own flesh.”
“Nana Mama, cut that out,” Mama said. “You know once the devil gets in between something, that don't hold no water. Jesus said you either gathering with me or against me, ain't no middle ground.”
“Hmmph,” was all that came from Papa.
Nana Mama sighed. “That's what he said all right. He counted those people as his family as those that were doing the will of his heavenly father, not by blood but by spirit. I knows that. Don't make it no easier, though. Although Lord knows I look in that child's eyes and what I see makes my blood run cold.”
“As the kids say, Nana Mama, this is out a' order. But your situation ain't all that's out a' order. There's some spirits around here that's out a' order too that need to be cast back, so it's just as well you're here. And here's where you'll stay. It's only me, you, and Papa left and we gone need to put our heads together.”
“What you talking about, Pearline?” Nana Mama said, her mind suddenly cast away from her problems. Her spine was tingling from the tone in Mama's voice.
“You member that night long ago?” Mama said.
Nana Mama rolled her eyes. “I ain't likely to forget.”
“Good. 'Cause just as it was sworn, it's back.”
Nana Mama's eyes got big as saucers. Her expression near 'bout reflected the same exact expression on Papa's face. “They say the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world, Pearline.”
“In this world, Nana Mama, that hand has got to be cut off. Might have to be us doing some of the cutting.”
At that moment a deep black howling emitted from the fireplace. All three of them turned to look in unison. Goose bumps sprouted on their arms.
If they could have read each other's minds they would have found that they were all having the same thought. They all wished once upon a time that they had not seen what they'd seen. But they had and now it was time to pay the piper.
BOOK: Out a Order
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