Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“I can walk.”
“I can carry you.”
“Hey, you may want to check the courts on Sixth and Grand. Heard it’s a pay for play.” The bartender goes back to wiping down his bar top after that. He must feel sorry for us. I’ll take it. I heft Josie higher and carry her out of the pool hall and onto the sidewalk. I let her slide out of my grasp while I order up a car. It pulls up moments later, and a short time after that, we’re home.
Inside, as she forces a snack down, she says, “You leaving me here?”
“I want to.”
“I’ll hate that.”
“I know.”
We stare at each other for too long before she interrupts the silence with a half plea, half promise. “I’ll be more careful.”
I hate that she feels at fault here when I’m supposed to be watching out for her.
“You got some athletic shoes at home?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because we’re going to the basketball court.”
“We? As in the both of us?”
“No other people around but you and me.”
I didn’t really bring her home to get new footwear. I wanted her to eat. While she changes, I look up what to make her and decide on a peanut butter sandwich on wheat toast with banana slices. She also has yogurt in her fridge, and I make a little berry parfait for her.
“Is this all for me?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.
“Yeah. Eat up.” I fold my arms across my chest as she takes a seat without argument.
“I could have made my own meal.”
“Sure, but I did it for you.” I stuff my face with another peanut butter sandwich while she dutifully eats everything I set out for her. Her face is blank, but the skin around her mouth is tight. She’s not happy, but neither am I.
I drive my truck over to Sixth Street, her hand held tightly in mine. On the way there, we talk about peanut butter and her preference for creamy and mine for crunchy. It’s dumb but fun, and by the time we reach the park, a lot of the tension has faded. We walk up next to the ten-foot high chain-link fence.
“I thought for sure you’d order me to stay home.”
“How well would you have followed that command?” I brush her hair out of her face.
“Not well,” she admits.
I drop a kiss on her forehead. “I’m not fighting battles I’m not going to win.”
I sling my arm around her shoulders and direct her toward the side street where there’s a door to the fenced-in court. A few curious gazes slide our way, but I ignore them as I walk onto the court. The point guard notices me and immediately straightens and calls a time-out. He jogs over.
“Bam Bam, my main man. 'Sup?” He dabs me up.
“Hey, Rodney, I’m looking for info about this guy. His name is Cole Patton, and he played basketball for the Central Academy Raiders. He ever come here to play?” I show Rodney Cole’s yearbook photo rather than the dead body image.
“Never saw him before. We don’t get a lot of high school kids. They’re kind of soft. You should try the courts over on Crocker Street. They usually play pick-up there.”
“Okay, thanks, man.”
“This your girl?” Rodney dips his head toward Josie. “She’s cute.” He gives her a wink. Josie starts to smile back because Rodney has that effect on women. I cover her eyes.
“Yeah, Josie’s my girl”
Rodney bursts out laughing. “All right. I see how it is, but, Josie honey, if you ever want a real man, come back here and give me a holler. This one didn’t even know how to tie his shoelaces until he hit middle school.”
“Jesus, Rodney, why are you busting my balls?”
“Cuz Josie’s fine, and I’m always up for a fine girl.” He flashes his white smile again, and behind me I hear a chorus of giggles.
“This fine girl is happy with Bam,” Josie replies.
“You’re only saying that because you didn’t get a good look at me. Bam’s covering your eyes and keeping you from the good stuff. Anyway, honey, I’m almost always here, so come and check me out if Bam don’t treat you right.”
“I won’t lie and say I’m not tempted, but I’m also not the kind of girl to cut and run, so I’ll have to say no.”
“Tempted?” I gasp in mock dismay.
Rodney shrugs. “What can I say? The ladies love me. Don’t you, ladies?” He directs his question toward the girls lining the side of the court.
“We sure do.”
“Yes, we do.”
“I love you most, Rodney.”
“If you hear anything about a missing basketball player, shoot me a text, will you?” I say, ready to whisk Josie away before she decides she wants to be part of Rodney’s harem.
Rodney gives me a wave, and I help Josie back to the car, not uncovering her eyes until I unlock the door and shove her inside.