Family Ties. Ernest Hill

me think of Little Man again. “Oh, God,” I mumbled to myself. “Please keep him safe.” Suddenly, I heard the sound of footsteps on the wooden deck. I turned toward the door. I saw Peaches walking toward me. I rose to my feet, and when she made it to me, I embraced her.

      “I got here as quick as I could,” she said.

      I released her; then she pulled out a chair and sat down across from me. I looked at her. She seemed worried.

      “Is anything wrong?” I asked her.

      “I’m afraid so,” she said, her voice barely audible.

      “What is it?”

      “They just profiled Little Man on the five o’clock news.”

      “My God!” I said. I started to say more, but before I could, the waitress returned to the table. She removed a pencil and pad from her apron and looked at me.

      “Ready to order?” she asked.

      I shook my head.

      She looked at Peaches. “Would you like something to drink while you decide?”

      “Iced tea,” Peaches said, “if you have it.”

      “We have it,” the waitress said.

      She left. A few minutes later, she returned and placed a glass of iced tea on the table.

      “Let me know when you’re ready to order,” she said.

      I nodded and she left again. When she did, Peaches raised her glass and sipped her tea. Then she sat the glass back on the table. I looked at her and shook my head.

      “They’re boxing him in,” I said. “Aren’t they?”

      “I don’t know,” she said. “But it certainly appears that way.”

      I looked away for a moment. I had just lost Mr. Henry. I could not lose my brother too. I just couldn’t. Suddenly, my anxious mind began to whirl. Little Man and I had been close before I was sent to youth authority. But now I did not know him. I focused my eyes and stared at Peaches.

      “Tell me about him,” I said.

      She frowned. “Excuse me?”

      “Tell me about Little Man,” I said. “If I can figure out how his mind works, I can find him.”

      “You know how his mind works,” she said. “He’s your brother.”

      “No, I don’t,” I said. “He was a ten-year-old kid when I left here. He’s a man now, a twenty-year-old man.” I paused and looked at her. “Do you know him?”

      “Not very well,” she said.

      I hesitated, then really stared at her. “How well is not well?”

      “Well, before he got in trouble, we used to attend the same church. I ran their literacy program, and he ran their substance-abuse program. We would bump into each other from time to time. But I can’t tell you much about him except that he was extremely quiet and usually kept to himself.”

      “Did you ever see him talking to anyone?”

      “Just the boys he counseled.”

      “Is that it?”

      “That’s it,” she said.

      “Are you sure?” I asked.

      “I’m positive,” she said.

      “There has to be someone else,” I said. “Someone he leaned on.”

      “Not that I know of,” she said. “I never saw him with anyone except the boys he counseled and Reverend Jacobs.”

      “Reverend Jacobs.”

      “Yes.”

      I paused again. “Are they close?”

      “Yeah,” she said, “now that you mention it, they are.”

      “Maybe he contacted the reverend.”

      “I don’t know,” she said, “maybe.”

      “I need to talk to him,” I said. “Can you arrange that?”

      “Sure.”

      “When?” I asked impatiently.

      “Whenever you like.”

      “Do you think he would talk to me this evening?”

      “I don’t see why not.”

      “Would you ask him?”

      “Sure,” she said, pushing from the table. “I left my cell phone in the car. I’ll go call him now.”

      When she left, I leaned back and buried my face in my hands—first Mr. Henry and now this. Why was this happening? Why now? Why to me? Why? I was mulling it over in my head, trying to make sense of things when I heard someone call to me.

      “Didn’t know you knew Miss Lewis,” he said.

      I looked up. It was Sonny. I had to be careful. It appeared that he was following me. I looked directly at him, agitated.

      “What do you want?” I asked.

      “We need to talk.”

      “Nothing to talk about,” I snapped.

      “I beg to differ,” he said.

      “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

      “Well, I have something to say to you.”

      “Not interested,” I said.

      “I’m not here to fight with you—”

      “Then why are you here?” I interrupted him.

      “I’m here to help you.”

      “I don’t want your help.”

      “Just hear me out.”

      “Not interested,” I said again.

      “Look,” he said. “This thing has gotten serious. The chief has issued an all points bulletin. Do you know what that means?”

      “I don’t want to talk to you,” I said again.

      “It means every cop in the state of Louisiana is looking for Curtis,” he said. “That’s what it means.”

      “Why don’t you leave me alone?” I said.

      “And by tomorrow morning, Curtis will have been profiled in every newspaper in the ArkLaMiss. Do you hear me?”

      I didn’t respond.

      “What’s wrong with you?” he asked. “Don’t you understand what I’m trying to tell you? The chief has put a freaking net over this entire state. And sooner or later, he’s going to catch Curtis. And when he does, I’m afraid something bad is going to happen. Now, maybe I can prevent that if you just tell me where he is.”

      “I don’t know where he is,” I said. “And if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t tell you. Not in a million years.”

      “If we work together—”

      “Not interested,” I said.

      “Son—”

      “Don’t call me that.”

      “Look,” he said.

      “No,” I said. “You look. You’re a cop. And I don’t trust cops. You understand?”

      “I’m not speaking to you as a cop,” he said. “I’m speaking to you as a friend.”

      “A friend!”

      “Yes,” he said. “A friend.”

      “I ain’t your friend,” I