Philadelphia Noir - Carlin Romano [20]
It wasn’t until a couple of nights later that Dahani didn’t show up for dinner. My mother, who barely touched the pizza I ordered, kept walking to the front window and peering out.
When it began getting dark, I slapped my forehead. “Oh my God!” I said.
My mother looked at me with wild round eyes. “What?”
Without biting the inside of my cheek, I said, “I totally forgot. He said to tell you he wouldn’t be home until really late.”
“Where is he?”
“Don’t know.”
My mother folded her arms. “Thanks for almost letting me have a heart attack.”
“Mom, he’s a grown man.”
“Nzingha,” she said, “what is this thing with you and your brother?”
I didn’t answer.
“You don’t seem to realize that he’s having a really hard time. I mean I’m the one stuck with loans from his year at college. I’m the one supporting his grown-ass now and I’m the one who’s going to have to take out more loans to send him back. So what’s your issue?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Can I go upstairs?”
“You really need to change your attitude. And not just about this.”
“Can I go upstairs?” I said again.
My mother and I sometimes had strained conversations. It was she and Dahani who had fireworks. But now she looked so angry she almost shook. “Go ahead and get the hell out of my sight!” And I did, hating this.
That night I wasn’t sure if I was sleeping or not. I kept imagining the nightmare bright scene at the pool, those girls kissing, my brother disappearing into the back. Night logic urged me that I had to go back there. After my mother was in bed with her TV timer on, I climbed out of bed and dressed. Then excruciatingly, silently, I closed the front door. I plunged into darkness and walked the three blocks as fast as I could.
“Roger,” I called at the gate, trying to imitate my brother’s masculine whisper. I tapped the wood. There was a pause and then the tall gate wrenched open.
“Where’s Dahani?” Roger said, waving me inside. His clothes were soaked and he was in stocking feet. “Oh God. You didn’t bring Dahani?”
I felt my legs buckle, and only because Roger’s sweaty hand clamped over my mouth was I able to swallow a scream. I had seen only one dead body in real life, at my great-grandmother’s wake. Though with her papery skin and tiny doll’s limbs, she’d never seemed quite alive. I’d never seen a dead body floating in water, but I knew what I was seeing when I saw Jess’s naked corpse bob up and down peacefully. I ran to the water’s edge near the diving board. There was a wet spot of something on the edge of the pool that looked black in the light.
Roger began pacing a tiny circle, moaning.
“Did you call 911?” I asked him.
“It was an accident. They’re gonna think—”
“What if she’s alive?” I said.
Roger suddenly loomed in front of me with clenched fists. “No cops! And she’s not alive! Why didn’t you bring Dahani?”
In the same way I knew things in dreams, I knew he hadn’t done it. Not even in a Lenny in Of Mice and Men way. But I needed to get away from his panic. I spoke slowly. “It’s okay. I’ll go get him.”
“You’ll bring him here?”
Before I let myself out through the tall gate, I watched Roger slump to the side of the pool and sit Indian style with his head in his hands. I took one last look at Jess. Later I wished that I hadn’t.
I found myself at Aja’s house. It was after midnight, but I rang the bell, hoping somehow that she might answer the door instead of her parents. I heard the dog barking and clicking his long nails excitedly on the floor.
Aja’s dad, a short yellow man with a mustache and no beard, answered the door. “Zingha? Now you know it’s too late. Does your mom know—”
“Mr. Bell, I really need to see Aja.”
“Are you serious, girl?” Then he started pushing the door shut. The dog was going crazy.
“Aja!” I screamed.
Her mother appeared. She grabbed Subwoofer’s collar with one hand and pulled him up short. He whimpered and I felt bad for him. All I’d ever known him to attack with was his huge floppy tongue.
“Shut up and get in here,” she said.
Aja’s father moved off to the side but