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sassi-the-story · 6 years ago

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Book One

“You know at this point in life, I’d take a spanking, let’s just keep it real.” “Yeah right. What would she look like, spanking two seventeen-year-old girls?” Twins Sherice and Shavaun were mucking along their backyard, stooping every few feet or so to pick up dog poop, or at least look like they were. It was their nanny’s favorite form of punishment when the twins did something abhorrent, like throw a party in their basement bedroom and expect her not to find out.

I would say there is nothing funny about yard work but considering I’ve never done it, I could be wrong,” she snarled. Rudella. The mini-version of their wicked nanny. She was stomping towards them, her pale white hair blowing behind her as she clod down an invisible catwalk. “But just last week, you said you were never wrong. Pick one, pink-face,” Shavaun said with a smirk. Rudella returned the fake smile with a bit more fire in her ice blue eyes. Her gaunt cheeks were indeed flushed with pink from the burning sun, as was her bony nose. “Mother sent me to retrieve the two of you. Your crazy, ugly aunt is here for your visit,” said Rudella. “If anyone knows crazy and ugly, it would be your mother and you,” said Sherice. She wrapped her hand in her sister’s and marched her back towards the house. “Oh you bold today, huh?” whispered Shavaun. Sherice squeezed it and Shavaun nuzzled into her shoulder. A bond between sisters, what could be better?

“Ahh, my nefarious nieces whom I love to pieces!” Their aunt, Sage, was a living ball of light and that light could sometimes be blinding. She was standing in the grand driveway of their home, a giant golden RV parked behind her. It seemed like whenever she visited the girls, her long, bountiful locs were a new hue. Today her tendrils were dyed a deep shade of green; the hue accented her almond-brown skin perfectly. Large, feathered earrings hung past her shoulders and matched the bright sarong she was wrapped in. Her slender fingers were bejeweled and waggling excitedly at the twins as they approached her. She embraced them both in a warm hug. “I swear you look more like our mom than you do our dad,” Shavaun commented. Aunt Sage smirked and raised one matching green eyebrow. Mala could be heard clacking down the stairs behind them. “Be nice,” Sage murmured, sensing the tension in the air between them all. “Sage,” Mala said in her strong accent. Not quite Russian, her throaty Croatian tones were came out harsh and curt. Sage curtsied, “Your majesty.” Mala’s blue eyes cut to slits; she was not amused.

“So you will be gone for how long, Sage?” asked Mala. Sage shrugged. “Who knows. But they’ll be back in time for school. And before their 18th birthday,” she replied. The girls turned excitedly to their aunt. “Where are we going?” asked Sherice. “And can we just stay there?” asked Shavaun under her breath. Sage laughed from deep within her belly. “All the places we’re going? No, we can’t stay at any of them,” she said between laughs. Shavaun sucked her teeth. “Aight, well let’s go now so we can get the most outta being away from here,” the teen lamented. Aunt Sage squeezed her around the shoulders. “The longer the better,” Rudella muttered. Shavaun raised her haunches at her. “Children, please,” Mala sighed. “Do we need to pack or anything?” Sherice asked her aunt. Sage shook her head and gestured to the RV. “Got everything we need and if I missed anything, I’ll buy it on the road. You know your mama and daddy left me LOADED. And auntie is always gonna take care of her girls.” The twins squealed with excitement.

Aunt Sage had been visiting the girls for as long as they could remember, doing her best to keep their parents’ memories alive.

Yasiin and Sita Kang were both gone from the girls’ lives before they turned 10; Sita at birth, Yasiin just days before their 10th birthday. Sita disappeared from the hospital and years later, after no trace of her could be found, was declared dead. That sad fact haunted the girls to this very day. Yasiin and then Sage did their best to ensure the girls that she loved them very much and went missing for a good cause. Yasiin did all he could, raising the girls while managing his rising star in the world of professional mixed martial arts. He also worked to find his missing wife and provide some sort of answer for the two darling girls she left behind. Sadly, he could not do so before his own death. He slipped down their grand staircase one day, so the police report said, and died of a broken neck.

While he was alive, Yasiin hired a nanny to assist him with raising the girls. Her name was Mala Swift. Mala was a Croatian immigrant who worked at a hair salon next to Yasiin’s training studio. She was claimed to be in need of a “safe place” for herself and infant daughter. When Yasiin explained his situation, and the two made a clear agreement that would not involve a romantic relationship, her and her daughter Rudella moved into the Kang’s large estate. Yasiin’s fighting career and teaching of mixed martial arts combined with Sita’s lucrative career as a college art instructor and part-time French tutor afforded them all a luxurious lifestyle. Yasiin and Sita’s will declared the girls would live in the estate, in the lifestyle they had become accustomed to, until their 18th birthday or they went away to college, whichever came first. Mala was sure to keep them in the home and in their school but all else had changed. They sweet-talked the maids into bringing them food, became friends with a bank teller and began to sneak money from their trust fund, and as of last Friday- they snuck and had a party in the basement that was their room. Hence the poop-picking party only they attended that morning. The girls lifted their hands in a fake wave that was more like a salute then raced up the steps into the humming RV. Sage took her place in the captain’s chair and beeped the horn twice as they rounded the driveway and headed out.

“Freedom!” screamed Shavaun. Sherice joined her at her side and the two pumped their fists, whooping as they did. “Oh the turn up is real, huh?” asked Sage. “Auntie! You would not believe what happened last night!” Sherice squealed. In unison, the twins shouted “We threw our first party!” “Oh it was live, auntie!” “There were wall-to-wall people!” “Our friend Varik DJ’d!” “Nah, he VEE-JAYED!” “Right? He had us dancing all night!” “Man, I swear I wasn’t even dancing at one point and just … just movin!” “Girl, yes! I haven’t danced that hard that long in… ever!” The twins were a gaggle of giggles in the hull of the RV. “Sounds like a typical teenage night. Your mom and I had lots of nights like that,” mused Sage. The giggles stopped immediately. “Teenage nights?” “Like that?” “Didn’t you all met in…” “…College,” the twins said in unison. An awkward silence encamped the vehicle. “Well, you know your mom and I, um, we knew each other in like, high school. Not like, knew-knew but we ran in the same cliques,” Sage lied. She swallowed the plum-sized knot in her throat and hoped they didn’t catch her. “Right…,” Sherice said, her uncertainty clear as the summer day in front of them.

“Where are we headed, Aunt Sage?” asked Shavaun. Sage was glad for the change of subject. “We are going to see some of me and your mom’s old, old friends,” she proudly answered. They were speeding down the highway, headed west. “How old?” Shavaun continued. Sage chuckled. “Way before either of you,” she smirked. Shavaun had climbed into the passenger captain’s chair up front, her feet tucked beneath her. “No for real, auntie. Where do y’all know ‘em from? Did they know our dad?” the curious teen inquired. Sage nodded. “Yep, they knew and loved him.” Shavaun smiled, thinking of her father who died just 8 years ago.

Yasiin was anxiously awaiting his daughters when he got the worst news any man could receive- his wife had gone missing. She gave birth to two healthy baby girls and between delivery and the post-surgery, room she managed to finagle her way out of the bed, off the monitors, and away from the hospital. Yasiin was walked down a hallway to a room where he could meet his daughters. He sat on the cold bed with its unmoved sheets and cradled his two daughters. “How am I supposed to do this without you, Sita?” he whispered to no one. The babies cooed up at him, their eyes a bright cinnamon brown. Just like hers, he thought. A tear fell as he imagined just where his wife could be. She had always been dashing off to mysterious “meetings and whatnot” with her friends and business partners. A tutoring bunch, they were. Supposedly. His head was hung and tears had begun to fall from his face when he noticed a piece of paper tucked into one baby’s blanket. When did that ninja of a woman do this, he thought. He maneuvered his hand up to the pull the paper out then held it between both hands in front of them. “Sherice and Shavaun” it said. “Well, at she gave you names,” he said aloud. The baby on his right cooed up at him. “Alright, you’ll be Sherice,” he said to her. Then he gently bounced the baby on his left. “And you’ll be Shavaun.” The infant closed her eyes and gave what he was sure was a smirk.

“Alright, Sherice is sleep and it’s just us. Tell me about this ‘friend’, auntie. Are we really taking a road trip for you to ‘come out’ to us? Everyone is gay now, auntie, so this really isn’t necessary,” Shavaun said matter-of-factly. Sage raised an eyebrow and turned quickly to look at the teen. “For real?” said Sage. Shavaun sank in her seat. “Well, gay or otherwise,” she shrugged her shoulders. Sage gave a knowing smile. Her slim face crinkled in the cheeks and at the eyes. Nearing her 40s, Aunt Sage was still pretty young. But you could tell by the glimmer in her hazel eyes that she had seen a lot; a lot that had changed her as a woman. “This friend of mine… is a one of a group of friends. We were a… sisterhood, you could say,” Sage started. Shavaun sat up and gave Aunt Sage her full attention. “Sisterhood? Y’all was a gang, auntie?!” she asked excitedly. Sage gave a hearty laugh. “Girl, bye. Not a gang, a band of sisters, like I said.” “A band? Y’all played music? I do remember Mom always mentioning drums…” replied Shavaun. Sage laughed again. “Stay in school, Sha. A band just means a group, a gaggle, a ‘grip’, as y’all say.” Shavaun nodded and Sage continued. “We met at different points in our lives and we added people as necessary, removed them as well, and we… worked together to make the world, our world a better place.” Shavaun’s eyes grew and grew, “You got super-powers or nah?” “No, girl! We’re ordinary women who did… extraordinary things.” “Tsk,” said Shavaun, smacking her lips, “That’s just extra and ordinary together, like, more especially plain. I hate that word.” “The ‘extra’ jacks it up a bit. This is why you need to stay your little partying behind in school,” Sage said. Shavaun smacked her lips again. “Anyway, child,” Sage said with a sigh, “We traveled all across this land, helping people, well one person in particular.” The nosey teen perked up at the slightest hint of a pending truth bomb. "A person who?” Sherice said in a sleepy voice. She had awakened from her cat nap and was perched on the floor between the two seats. “You should be in a seatbelt,” Sage said in a motherly tone. “Yeah, okay,” replied Sherice. Sage looked at her with the scorn of a mother. “I mean, you right, but I’m not about to. I need all this tea, Aunt…TEA,” Sherice said. Her and Shavaun giggled at such a silly misnomer. Their silliness kept a lot of dark and bad days from occurring for them and for this, Sage was thankful. She rolled her eyes at their immaturity but her heart smiled at their bond. “The ‘one person’ was the sister of a friend of ours; her name was name was Spring." The girls exchanged a look. "Was?" "Like, she died?" In unison they expressed their condolences, "Sorry, auntie." "Thanks girls but I actually never knew Spring." Both of them shocked, Sherice spoke first. "Okay, sorry but all this murder mystery hoopla is giving me a headache, Auntie." “Nah, she’s really just scared,” Shavaun teased. Her twin shot her an icy glare. “It ties into why your mom disappeared. I don’t want to get deep into right now but I promise, girls, you’ll know so much at the end of this trip,” Sage said. They could sense it was the end of her sharing so they refrained from asking more questions. A few moments of comfortable silence passed before she spoke again. “So, this friend we’re visiting, her name is Sloane.” “That’s a cool ass name,” commented Sherice. “She is a cool ass person,” said Sage. Sherice and Shavaun shared a surprised look that their aunt didn’t correct their bad language. But to be honest, they both knew Aunt Sage for being “that cool aunt”: the stay up late, eat junk food, say curse words kind of aunt, since they were small children.

“Sage, it’s Yasiin. I need you to… to meet me at my house, please. It’s urgent.” He sat down in the rocking chair with a heavy sigh, Sherice in his arms, Shavaun safely tucked into her bassinet. He was grateful to this day that she had at least given the girls names before abandoning them. The three days that had passed felt like an eternity to him, waking every few hours to feed, change, and bathe them. He had never had kids, didn’t even think he wanted them, until Sita got pregnant. Yasiin waited anxiously for Sage to return his call or show up and the 20 minutes it took for her to come by felt like hours. By this time, he was rocking both babies with his feet while he played Mortal Kombat X on his Xbox. Her tires screeched into his driveway. “She better not have marked up my concrete, man, dang!” he said.

Sage sat in her car for just a moment, staring up at her sister and brother’s giant house. “What the hell am I going to say?” she sighed. Sita had disappeared from the hospital and Sage was pretty sure the babies’ umbilical cords were dragging behind her. The image made her giggle. Then, it made her cry. Where in the world had she gone? Why would she leave without telling the crew? What did she know? Who was she chasing? Or worse, who was chasing her? Things had to be pretty bad for a woman to leave her children behind. Sita was so dedicated to the cause of saving Spring, more so than Sandra herself at times. The other women were constantly bringing her back from the ledge, pulling her down into reality. “This is just a hobby, Sita, not a mission,” Sage often said. “It would be a mission if it were my sister,” she would reply, a steely look in her sparkling hazel eyes. The tears kept falling as Sage remembered her fallen friend. Well, had she fallen? Now wasn’t the time to question herself. She took a breath, fixed her face, and exited the car. Every step felt heavier, walking to the giant oak door. She could see Yasiin through the glass, rocking two bouncing seats with his feet. She pushed the door and announced herself. “Bro, it’s me!” He made an awkward tumble over the back of the couch and raced into her arms, where he crumbled into tears. She comforted Yasiin and led him back to the couch. “What do you think happened to her, Sage? Is this part of that tutoring club crap you guys lie to me about? I know it’s a lie, Sage,” he spilled. Confronted and cornered, she had no reply.

Sage, where is my wife!?” he said, his fear turning to rage as his voice got louder. “Where the hell is my wife?!” He was standing now, tears streaming his chiseled chocolate face. “Yasiin, I-I can’t really say. I don’t know either!” she countered. “What am I supposed to do with these kids, Sage?” he continued. “Raise them, Yasiin! They are yours, too! You men, I swear!” she said, smacking her lips. “I didn’t plan on being a single parent of twins!” he seethed. Sage looked shocked and angered as she now stood face to face with him. “So had she died, what would you do, leave em there? You’re not the only one missing her! And you definitely don’t miss her most,” she hissed back. Her rising temper seemed to quash his and they both sat down again. “Yasiin, we are gonna figure this out,” sighed Sage. He glared her, confused, angry, but willing and ready to do whatever to bring his wife home. There was no way he was raising these babies by himself

“Auntie, I’m gettin’ hungry,” Shavaun said. She was crouched, searching the hotel-sized refrigerator for a snack. “There’s food in there, girl, use your eyes!” Sage shouted from the driver’s seat. “What is a ‘hummus’?” Shavaun muttered. “It’s chickpeas, seasonings, tahini, and olive oil. Pretty good with crackers,” answered Sherice, standing beside her sister and offering a roll of Ritz crackers. “Thanks, sis, you always come through for me,” Shavaun said. She sat the tub between them as they sat at the small table and ate. “I’m really glad we have each other, Sha. I mean, we have Auntie Sage but… it’s just us, ya know?” Sherice lamented. Shavaun nodded in agreement. They did a “cheers” of topped crackers and ate in silence as the RV rolled along.

After a while, they came to a stop. Sage put the RV in park and unbuckled. “Alright, everybody out. I’ve got someone for y’all to meet,” she announced. The girls clambered out of the vehicle and stood in front of a mostly abandoned gun shop with adjacent range. “What in God’s name…?” Sherice said under her breath. A slim figure with gray-streaked, wavy hair and tattered jeans stood smoking on the porch of the business. The woman stood, just a hair shorter than the low awning. Her boots clunked down the steps as she walked up to them. “Well, I’ll be,” the woman said in a slow drawl. She blew her smoke upwards and behind it, her grey eyes glittered while they assessed the women before them. “This… is Sloane!” Sage announced. She gave a paltry wave and the girls returned it just the same. “These really are Sita’s girls, huh? Wow,” she commented. The girls smiled at the mention of their mother’s name. “What was she like?” Sherice blurted; Shavaun elbowed her side. “I’m sorry, I just… I love hearing about her,” Sherice said quietly. Sloane smiled. “Quite alright, cutie. She was an amazing woman and you should be proud of her. Before she disappeared, she was something special, that’s for sure.” “They are hungry for hot food and my hummus ain’t cuttin’ it. Got any food in there?” Sage asked. Sloane nodded and turned to the shop. She flipped the “closed” sign and locked the door behind them. Attached to the shop was a small apartment. “You live where you work?” Shavaun asked. “Short commute,” Sloane replied. As Sloane rustled up some home-made cheeseburgers, Sherice and Shavaun helped, cutting the tomatoes and lettuce. Seated on her couches, the crew tore into the food. “Dude, this is way better than any fast food burger!” Sherice exclaimed. Shavaun nodded in agreement. “I assume you’ll wanna hear how I know your mama and your aunt,” Sloane said. She got up to get another burger. Both of the girls nodded this time. “Guess I’ll start with how I met Sandra…” Sloane said.

Sloane Emrit?” “Yep!” “The response is ‘here’. When I call your name, please say ‘here’.” “….here.” “Thank you.” “You ain’t welcome.” “Sandra Emtek?” “Here!” “And Spring Emtek?” “Also here!” Giggles. “Sisters?” “TWINS!” “Alrighty. Stephen Gregory?”

“Sandy, I’m hungry,” said Spring. “You’re always hungry, Spring!” The two sisters were leaving the adult school they both attended at night, hopeful of obtaining their biological history and art history degrees; Spring for biological degree and Sandra for the art. Twins but different in every way. Such is the case with fraternal twins. They were sitting in the parking lot, their yellow VW Beetle would not start and it was getting late. They heard a “clunk-ching-clunk” stepping towards them. Spring clasped Sandra’s hand in fear. “Need some help, ladies?” said a drawling but womanly voice. Spring felt instantly relaxed and let go. “Yes! We do! Our stupid car won’t start!” “Don’t call Betsy ‘stupid!’” Sandra snapped. The car was a gift for their 18th birthday/graduation and 3 years later, it was holding up just fine. Spring rolled her eyes. “It’s just a car.” “It’s our car and it takes care of us very well. Don’t call her stupid,” Sandra hissed. The woman in front of them cleared her throat to get their attention. Her gray eyes danced as she smiled at the battling duo. “I think it’s the battery,” she said sheepishly. The woman opened the driver’s side door, located the latch for the hood, and had it jacked up in under 30 seconds. “Whoa,” Spring said in surprise. The gray-haired mysterio (or mysteria?) jiggled the connections of the battery and made a face. “Kinda loose but y’all should be alright with a lil’ jump. I’ll pull my car around.” She “clunk-ching-clunked” away and soon, a roar could be heard tearing through the lot. She stopped her shiny black Corvette in front of their car within an inch. Again working against an invisible clock, she popped her own hood, hooked up their batteries, and had Betsy purring in no time. Spring grabbed her in a hug and the shocked woman stiffened then kindly patted her on the back. “Oh man thank you sooo much! I am starving!” exclaimed Spring. “Um, no big deal. Us women gotta look out for each other, you know,” said the helpful woman. Sandra opted for a handshake. “We really owe you one.” “No biggie, doll. I’m Sloane, by the way,” said the woman. “Ooh another ‘S’ name! I’m Spring and this is my bossy but beautiful, three-minutes-older sister, Sandra. I call her Sandy, like the cookie,” Spring gushed. Sandra rolled her eyes at her sister’s eagerness. “We just moved here to Lexington. We came all the way from the west coast,” Spring continued. A nudge from Sandra got her to stop talking. “That’s cool. I just moved here from Jersey. I was born in Alabama and uh, that city life wasn’t fittin’ me,” said Sloane. She didn’t want Spring to feel out of place and she was right; the woman beamed at her sharing and she beamed right back.

First time she had smiled in a while. Sucks how abuse can suck the life right out of you, thought Sloane. Then she pushed that thought back and focused on her new friends. She couldn’t tell what it was but she felt a bond with them already. It was as if she had been drawn to them. Coming out of class, she had dropped her last cigarette and it rolled under the car. She had to maneuver to get to it and it’s almost as if that setback is what kept her behind in the parking lot and able to help them out. Fate, her grandma would say. But where was her grandma when she was being beat? She dragged her fingers through her long waves to quell the anger rising. “You okay?” asked Sandra. She could sense the Sloane’s instability but nothing that made her afraid of the once-stranger. “Yeah, Sandy, I’m alright. Just hungry myself,” answered Sloane. “Well, Sandy is going to get us cheeseburgers tonight. It’s Friday and that’s ‘Burger Day’ at our place! Just like Mom and Dad used to do, right Sandy?” Spring quipped. Sandra couldn’t help but smile at her sister’s childlike innocence. “Yeah, Spring, it is. Would you like to join us, Sloane? We’re right up the street,” Sandra offered. A home-cooked meal? Sloane couldn’t say no. “Heck yeah. I’ve been eating burgers since I got here but I swear, there is nothing like a homemade burger!” she raved. Spring clapped her hands with glee. “Yay to new friends!” she squealed. The women got in their respective cars and Sloane followed them home.

Once inside their two-bedroom apartment, Sandra began prepping the burgers and Sloane offered to help. Spring fed their pet cat Nate then found some music for their impromptu party. “So if you live so close, why do y’all drive?” asked Sloane. “Well, Spring is… different. I’m sure you could tell,” said Sandra. The heaviness in her voice indicated she had been dealing with her sister’s “difference” for quite some time. “Yeah, sweet little thing, she is,” Sloane said with a chuckle. “Yeah, sweet. Well, she gets freaked by loud noises and the cars kind of scare her. It’s just safer, you know?” said Sandra. Sloane nodded, continuing to cut the tomatoes. “My turn for a question. Why have you been eating out so much?” Sandra asked. “Kinda homeless, I guess. I mean, I sleep in the ‘Vette, shower at school, but I don’t really live anywhere,” Sloane said. She shocked herself at how easily she gave up such pertinent information. But Sandra emanated a warmth, a sense of safety that Sloane remembered from her grandmother. "So you'll stay with us," Spring squealed. She was setting the table, a stool pulled up for a third seat. Sloane set down her chopping knife and observed her new roommates. Similar in height and that was it. Spring was rather rotund and had long, black ringlets that hung past her waist. Her emerald green eyes were sat deep in her face, hidden by her bulbous cheeks when she smiled. Which she did often. She wore a white t-shirt with a powder blue collar and a smock dress that matched. Sandra looked like a leftover hippie with her blonde locs, tied up shirt, and paisley print pants. Her eyes were such a dark shade of brown that they appeared black in the dim lights of their home. Sloane only noticed the color while they were in the parking lot. Spring's skin tone was a honeyed butter light brown while Sandra's was dark like an infamous chocolate bar, synonymous with a Pennsylvanian city. "Well, ya gonna stand and stare or can I get some cheese on my burgers?" Sandra was standing in front of Sloane, arms filled with plates holding steaming burgers on buns and hot fries. Another sheepish grin from Sloane as she placed slices of cheese on the burgers and picked up the tray of toppings to carry to the table.

The trio was all seated when Spring grabbed Sloane’s hand and bowed her head. “Dear Heavenly Father… thank you. Amen,” she said. “Amen,” chimed Sloane and Sandra. Finally, thought Sloane, a real family.

Sandra, Spring, and Sloane remained close from that moment on, even moving into a small 3-bedroom house so that Sloane could stop sharing Spring’s bottom bunk. During college, they all took on jobs to help them cover rent and other living expenses. Sandra became an paid apprentice to a locally famed artist and sometimes taught art in the evenings at a pottery shop; Sloane worked as a sales associate in a nearby gun shop; and Spring was chosen for prestigious tutelage with a well-known chemist. He, Dr. Fotog, offered her pay after one week of seeing how hard she worked. Dr. Fotog went so far as to say Spring was a savant- she did not seem intelligent through basic conversation but her biological knowledge and understanding of human chemistry surpassed many of his honors students. When Spring went to work for him, he was supposedly on the brink of developing a cure for the common cold. With Spring’s assistance and knowledge, that brink was soon becoming a reality, according to Spring.

Everything was finally starting to look up.... Until Spring went missing.

“You’re sure you haven’t seen her, Sloane?” Sandra asked, the panic in her voice audible. Sloane shook her head and dragged her hands through her hair. She could swear she grew three new grays today. Neither Sloane nor Sandra had spoken to or seen Spring in over a week. It was not unlike her to spend long days in the lab with Dr. Fotog, sometimes only coming home in the wee morning hours to change, eat, feed Nate, then she was off again. But more than a week without either one of them seeing any sign of her caused righteous panic. Sloane noticed after day two when the house cat, Nate, was swirling around her legs, yowling for food. Nate and Sloane never interacted, not even on a good day. This caused her worry but she didn’t feel the need to alert Sandra. Now with it closing in on two weeks without a sign of Spring, Sloane felt guilt at not speaking up about her friend and housemate’s absence. Sandra was pacing the living room, sometimes pressing her palm to their large front window, almost as if she was summoning her sister home. “What do you think happened, Sloane?” Sandra asked. The worst, thought Sloane. “I have literally no idea. I’m hoping… for the best,” she lied. “Maybe that breakthrough came through and she’s just… really focused.” Sandra turned to Sloane with a frown. “Spring? Focused? Too focused to feed Nate for over a week? Highly unlikely, Sloane.” Sloane shrugged apologetically. “I said I’m hoping for the best.” Sandra sighed and flopped herself onto the couch, covering her eyes in agony. “How am I going to tell my parents that she’s… Spring is… she’s…” she began to choke on the words and could not bring herself to say them. Sloane sat down beside her friend and laid a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Spring is missing,” she said quietly. The words themselves brought on an onslaught of tears to them both.

The next few months were filled with police reports, canvassing the area with flyers, candlelight vigils, and many sleepless nights for the two. Spring and Sandra’s parents came for the first few weeks but after too many days with too little answers, they left Sandra on her own. Sandra was used to being left alone to deal with Spring but this was new, different, and very scary. “We’re going to find her, Sandy,” Sloane said one day. It had been almost 10 years since Spring went missing. Dr. Fotog went on to win numerous awards for curing the common cold then inoculating people against it. In every acceptance speech, he mentioned “his angel from above without whom he would have found the cure and whom he wishes could be beside him to celebrate”. Sandra and Sloane had graduated but it did not seem like something to celebrate in the absence of their comrade. Sandra carried her picture across the stage and accepted a posthumous Baccalaureate Degree of Biological Science in her honor. When asked if she would speak at their commencement, Sandra only said one thing. “My sister should be here.” With that, she walked off the stage and straight to the parking lot where Sloane followed. The two had collapsed in the yellow bug, a mess of tears, confusion, and anger. They made homemade burgers and fries to celebrate, Spring’s favorite, and ate a homemade chocolate cake with strawberry filling, also a favorite of hers. “Congrats, sis,” Sandra had said to the empty chair. Sloane, still on her same stool, had raised her glass to Spring’s chair as well. The women went on with life as usual, spending all of their unoccupied time searching and theorizing about where Spring could have gone.

Until one day her body was found in a shallow grave near a creek behind the school. The details of her death too gruesome. (For this first story, anyway.)

Three years had gone by since Spring’s body was found. What was a mission to bring their sister home now became a dying vow to avenge her death. Through hard work and discipline, they were able to buy the little Victorian home. “This is what she would have done, what she would have wanted,” Sandra said when her and Sloane signed the papers to become joint owners of the home. In the “dark times”, as Sloane called the years following, Sandra went on to get a master’s degree and began teaching art at the local community college, continuing with her nighttime class at the pottery shop; Sloane was still working in the gun shop but had worked her way up to assistant manager or as she called it, “Second Gun in the Sun”, since the shop was named “Sunny’s Guns”. Ten years later, they had still not found one single sign of a killer and had zero leads.

“Well, that wraps up our lesson tonight. Tips are very much appreciated. I know you all paid for the class online but the cash tips I receive here go to S.A.S.S.I., a foundation I started in honor of my missing sister, Spring Emtek, who went missing almost 20 years ago and was found brutally murdered.” Sandra was wrapping up another late-night class at the pottery shop. She hugged her regulars goodnight and waved to first timers. A tall, portly Black woman felt her way to the door and stopped to drop a sizeable tip in the jar. “Good luck!” she called out. Sandra raced to the door, counted the $500 in tips, and grabbed the woman’s arm. “Hey, ma’am, wait. I realize you’re blind and… and I don’t think you meant to leave this much,” she said. The woman smiled. Her milky white eyes were stunning against her midnight-black skin. “It’s five hundred, right?” the woman said. “Yeah, yeah it is. Wow… thank you,” said Sandra. She was moved to tears by the gracious gesture, sniffling and wiping them away shyly. “Don’t cry,” the woman said. “How did you…. That’s rude, I’m sorry,” Sandra stuttered. The woman reached down and grabbed Sandra’s hand. “I’m blind, not deaf,” she said with a smile. Sandra squeezed the woman’s hand again as she pulled away.

“Sloane! Sloane come ‘ere!” Sandra shouted as she entered the home. Large, balding, and gray, Nate sauntered from his spot in the window and up to Sandra’s legs. He had taken a liking to her in Spring’s long absence. Also very gray but not yet balding, Sloane also sauntered into the living room. “What’s up, Chuck?” she sighed. Her face was long and tired, as if work did not go as well as usual. “Wait what’s up with you first?” Sandra asked concerned. Sloane shrugged and Sandra left it at that. Another one of her “bad days”, she thought. “Well, anyway, look!” She held out the five hundred-dollar-bills with a grin. “Whoa, what kind of class did you teach tonight?” Sloane said surprised. “This really nice lady just… left it. I’m assuming she heard about Spring’s case back in the day and wanted to help. I still get a few stragglers like that, you know,” Sandra explained. Sloane nodded. Then her eyes lit up. “Guns!” “What?” “Guns! And bribes! We can get some pretty nice guns for that amount and you know… maybe we can get some answers from that Dell guy with a bit more…firepower.” “AbsoLUTEly not, Sloane! We are not gunning people down!” “Do you want to find your sister’s killer or not?” “Really? Is that even a question?!” “Well, do you? By any means necessary, baby. Malcolm X style!” “You are NUTS, Sloane!” “I am… nuts about my friend.” “If you miss her that much, imagine how I feel? Now multiply it!” “I have! Look, let’s stop talking and do this!” “…okay.” Sandra wasn’t sure what exactly “this” was but she knew she had to do more than sitting down, theorizing, and canvassing the area for her sister’s killer. The coming fall would make 20 years since her disappearance, 10 years since her murder, and they didn’t have a single clue as to who could have maimed such a sweet soul. Sloane grabbed herself and Sandra a beer from the fridge; she also grabbed a lockbox she kept stashed behind the fridge while she was up. She sat it all down on the coffee table and kicked her feet up. “Open it,” she commanded of Sandra. Sandra opened the beer and sat back. “No,” Sloane said with a laugh, “the box. Open the box.” Sandra smirked. She flipped the two tabs and opened the box. It contained a lot of cash. Straight cash money. “Sloane…” she said curiously. “With that $500, it’s now at exactly ten grand,” Sloane said confidently. “Sloane!” “Well,” said Sloane. “I really wanna find her killer, man. I’ve been stashing cash, I’m not sure for what, but now, now I know. We can use this to bribe people, buy unmarked guns, hire a team, whatever we need. Let’s do right by her, Sandy.” At that familiar nickname, Sandra teared up. She clasped Sloane’s hand and raised it triumphantly. “For Spring!” The two took long sips from their beers and smiled. No plan exactly but the idea was there. They were going to finally find her sister’s killer and let her soul rest in peace.

“This has GOT to be the most interesting story I’ve ever heard!” Shavaun exclaimed. Sherice nodded in agreement. “I wanna know how this all leads to mom’s death but I get it- gotta know the backstory first!” Sloane nodded. By now the party had moved to the porch and was watching the sun set. The girls were excitedly sharing their favorite parts of the story when a cloud of dust following a speeding car could be seen coming up the dirt road. “Whoa, what bat just flew outta hell?” Sage said. Sloane smirked. “Oh that bat is hell.” The girls exchanged a worried look. “Oh boy,” said Sage. “Who is it?” the twins asked in unison. “Well, that would be… my ex-lady, Sonia,” Sloane said coolly. She stood, just as she had to meet the girls. The speeding black Corvette careened up the dirt walkway to Sloane’s shop and stopped just inches of the stairs. In another thick puff of dust, the driver’s side door swung open and the tallest woman either of them had ever seen got out. Her long blonde hair swirled about her shoulders in the wind. With a sexy strut, she sauntered up to the group. “Sloane,” she said calmly. “Sonia,” said Sloane in the same tone. “These are my nieces,” Sage said after a moment of awkwardness. The ice cold cool woman lowered her glasses to look at the girls. “Definitely Sita’s girls,” she said matter-of-factly. The girls smiled at the mention of their glorified angel. “Well, I’m Sonia, and since you’re here, I suppose it's time I should tell you how I fit into this story,” said the blonde. The more she talked, the girls noticed she did not have the same drawl as Sloane. “Where are you from?” asked Shavaun. “Australia,” said Sonia. “And how did you end up here?” asked Sherice. “That you’ll find out soon enough. But I suggest we get outta this hellhole and make our way. The anniversary is coming soon and I’d rather not miss it,” she said. She turned on the heel of her boots and stalked towards the RV. “Just like that, we’re out?” Shavaun whispered. Sherice, knowing no answer, just shrugged and scrambled down the stairs after the trio. Sloane was shaking her head and Sage was laughing. “Auntie, where to next?” Sherice called out. “On to Sonia’s part, I guess!” shouted Sage.

#black blogger #black author #black women write #new black books #ya books #ya books of color #black girl magic #sassi #sassi the story #gemsfromagemini

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