Infinite Us(13)

But I didn't give them much more than a passing glance. Mrs. Matthews had the cancer and it was only the tonic Mama worked from the hooch that seemed to give the old woman enough sleep that she didn't keep her daughter and grandkids up at all hours. The white Yankees would probably still be nosing around by the time I got back and so I hurried through the crowd, ignoring the sharp eyes that belonged to Ripper's crowd. They were just as curious as the Yankees and I liked my behind the color it was right then. Didn't need my mama changing that color because I'd caught those bad seed boys' eyes.

"Sookie. Hold up." Sylv was slow as maple syrup in an ice storm and I figured, as I moved away from the Square toward Tremé that my brother was only catching up to me because Mama had fussed him good. "Damn, girl, you hear me say hold up?"

"Don't need a tagalong, Sylv."

He caught up to me even though I moved along quicker, spotting Mrs. Matthew's granddaughter, Bobby, heading up the walk just outside her granny's small cottage. The girl had gotten taller in the few months it had been since I saw her last, nothing like how she'd looked a year before when I still watched her over night while her granny and mama were off to Baton Rouge to see a specialist.

"Mama would beat me bloody if I didn't walk with you." My brother smelled like sweat, liked he'd been out too late last night and up too early this morning.

"You shouldn't have been nosing around Lily Chamber's house so late last night. That's why Mama needs to whip you."

"Hush, you don't know what you talking about."

"I seen you coming home at two this morning."

My brother ignored me, pulling out a half-smoked rolled cigarette from his front pocket. He shrugged, like the frown I gave him didn't shame him even a little. "Don't you go sayin nothing to Mama bout me smokin or nothin."



       
         
       
        

"She gonna smell it."

"Will not."

"Will … hey, Bobby, sugar. How's your granny?"

The girl's small smile fell a little at my question and I felt a little bad for asking. Bobby liked Sylv, I knew that. But my brother was a boy and most boys are too stupid to notice much about how girls act when they're round them, especially little thirteen-year-old girls like Bobby.

She didn't speak much, just kept her attention on the smoke floating out Sylv's mouth, then the loud, racking coughing fit he had because he was a damn fool who didn't know nothing about smoking.

"Mama says to give your granny two tablespoons every couple of hours, but no more than that, you hear?"

"Yeah. I hear you." Bobby took the basket when I handed it over, but kept glancing at Sylv, as though she half expected him to do more than lean on the street sign waiting for me to walk back to Rampart with him.

"We'll light a candle for her tomorrow night at Mass." I meant it too. My Bastie wasn't as old as Mrs. Matthews, but I reckoned she would be one day. It would be nice if someone but me lit a candle for her when she got old and sick.

Sylv watched me tuck the money Bobby gave me inside the collar of my dress and I pushed him to the side, head shaking when he looked a little too hard, probably from trying to see how many bills had been in that small stack.

"That ain't your money."

"Yours either. Let me see."

My brother reached toward me and I stuck him good with my elbow, making that tall fool wince. "You leave the money be and stop acting a fool and I won't tell Mama about the cigarettes … "

He blew out another puff of smoke, flicking ashes right at my feet, trying to make like he didn't give a fig if Mama knew he smoked. "Or that you left Lily Chamber's house later than is fittin' last night." Sylv watched me close, top lip curling like he was disgusted and I knew I had him. "Ha! You so sad."

"Yeah, well, so are you."

"Not like you." He made like he might take another drag of that cigarette, but I beat him to it, yanking it from his mouth before he could stop me, tossing it down and grinding it under my heel. "Why you bothering me?"

"Your boyfriend is hiding again."

That had me stopping, watching my brother as he wiped a handkerchief over his sweaty head. Dempsey. What had he done now? "How you know?"

"He slept in the tree house last night. Uncle Aron told me this morning."

I didn't have to ask Sylv much more about what Uncle Aron said. Dempsey always ended up in the tree house back of Mimi Bastien's swamp house when things at his place were bad. Some nights he snuck away from Manchac where his daddy's land touched up against my granny's place and bummed a ride to the city because he need to see a friendly face. Least that's what the fool always said. We all did our part to watch over Dempsey because his own people wouldn't. Sometimes he hid for days and days inside Mama's tiny shop. Sometimes Uncle Aron got him a room at the brothel over on Bourbon because the woman running the place was sweet on Aron. They liked his light eyes, they said, how they looked almost green.