Kenya

TheGreen Mile, The Green Mile, that was all I could think.

Alonzo seemed like he was as big as Michael Clarke Duncan.

Nowhere near as gentle, though.

He said, “Get out.”

I looked out the window. It was completely dark out. Mama would be worried.

“Get out, Kenya.”

I asked, “Do I have to?”

Alonzo flashed me a smile. “I’m not gonna hurt you. It’s gonna be fine. We’ll have some fun and then I’ll get you home to your nerd brother.”

I’d never thought I’d say such a thing, but at that moment I really missed Eric. I’d have given anything to touch his hand, hug his neck and tell him I loved him. He was corny, for sure. But he was my brother. And he loved me even when I didn’t deserve his love. I felt sad all of a sudden. Sad and lonely. Sad and alone.

Alonzo’s voice boomed, “I’m not playing, Kenya. Get out.”

I said, “This some kind of warehouse?” I was stalling as best I could.

“This is a playground, Kenya. This is a place for Daddy and his little girl to play.” Alonzo laughed. It was a horror-movie laugh, one I figured I’d never forget.

I asked, “And what about Fiasco?”

Alonzo shrugged. “Two’s company, Kenya,” he said, “and three’s a crowd.”