Praying to her God. Where were you tonight? Huh? Why werenât you watchinâ over my sister, like she said you always did? âCause there ainât no God. You ainât real. I knew that when you nevah brought my mama back. But Lacy kept believinâ, âcause thatâs just the way she was. So why her? Huh? Why? She ainât never done nothing but good. And you took her. So whatta we got now, huhâ God? â
Suddenly he lurched to his feet, staggering, his legs stiff and heavy from hours of immobility. He stumbled toward the window as the hazy orange sun began its ascent above the rooftop rows of tenements and high-rise projects.
Then, as if conjured from the depths of a personal hell, the agonized wail of a mortally wounded soul screaming to end itsinhumane torture ripped from the bowels of his being, as his foot crashed through the curtain-covered windows.
âN-ooo!â
Â
The service was a blur, packed with people heâd never even known were friends. His only moment of clarity was when Maxine stepped up to the podium and sang, âYou Are My Friend,â in a tribute to Lacy that rivaled Pattie LaBelle.
He could still hear the haunting power of her voice, the painful truth of the words humming through his veins as he and Maxine made their way toward home.
Maxine took periodic, countless glances at Quinnâs drawn profile. He hadnât uttered a full sentence in days. She was afraid for him, and at the same time she needed him. She needed him to tell her that everything would be all right, to hold her and tell her theyâd get through it. She was hurting, too, more than she would have believed was physically possible. But Quinn had left them behind, as sure as Lacy had. He was visible in body, but the spirit of the man was gone.
He turned to her when they reached her apartment building. His hair had come loose from the band that held it, and it blew gently across his black-clad shoulders, touched by the stirring breeze.
âYouâd better go on up,â he said in a barely audible voice. He wouldnât meet her eyes, because he knew that if he did, sheâd see the hurt and the fear. He couldnât expose that part of himself to anyoneânot ever again. Big boys donât cry. Itâs okay, Q. âListen, I gotta go,â he said abruptly. His gaze flickered briefly on her face. Leaning down, he kissed her cheek. âLater.â
Maxine watched his long, bowlegged swagger until he was out of sight.
Â
Several weeks later as Quinn was stepping out of the shower he was surprised to hear the faint ringing of the telephone. He had so isolated himself since Lacyâs death that those who knew him had backed away after repeated attempts at offers of support. That being true, Quinn couldnât imagine who would have the heart to call just to get their feelings stepped on.
âHello?â
âMr. Parker?â came a voice, thin as a rail.
âYeah. Whoâs this?â
âOh, thank heavens,â she rushed on. âIâve been trying to reach your sister for days but she never seems to be home.â Quinnâs insides did a nosedive, leaving him momentarily speechless. âSuch a hardworking girl, that one. Itâs the main reason why I decided to hold the apartment for the two of you. She left your number on the application in case of an emergency.â
He finally found his voice. âWâ¦hat?â
âThe apartment. The one on Eighteenth Street. Iâve been holding it for weeks. She promised sheâd come by with the rest of the money. When I didnât hear from her I got worriedâ¦â
Quinnâs pulse pounded so loudly in his ears he could barely make out what she was saying. He felt as if heâd been tossed into someone elseâs nightmare.
âSo I need to know if you two still want the apartment. I know how desperately she wanted to move. Said youâd be a hard sell,