Justia squeaked and waved, doing her best to shoo away the bugs- Eastern Bluetail butterflies. She wondered how she knew what they were. “Go on. Git.” They disappeared. How did they just blink out of sight like that? “Thank you.” Maybe the same way she’d wanted to see them. She was grateful, but not having them buzz around her. What about that beat-up old car? She hadn’t wanted it, or the guy. How was it there?
The car’s putt-putt noise registered. It sounded like an old, low-compression motor pumping water in Africa. Was her past coming back to haunt her? Didn’t it do the job good enough the first time? Justia shrugged. Maybe it was a step in making her right. She rubbed her forehead. What the hell was going on? She shook her head quickly. “No.” That wasn’t what she had been thinking about. She rubbed her eyes and put two fingers to her temple. Looking straight at the car driver, she wished; disappear. The noise, the car, and worse, the white guy must go away. Justia closed her eyes as tight as she had when she’d been tied to the tree.
Mama spoke: Be more exact. Make the car, the driver, the noise, and keep the butterflies away. They’re filling the thinking you need to think.
Justia opened her eyes. The guy and the car were there. Now Mama too? “Shit!” The butterflies, she reasoned, she’d brought in. They added something to the yellow, orange, red, and brown. I’m tired of it. The car…the guy…that whutn’t me. Now Mama?
It’s a Model T. Pa had one once. Think it away. You know that’s how it works here.
I tried that already. Justia closed her eyes again, hoping for success in her wish this time. “Make the Model T and the guy go away.” Mama. Don’t talk to me. I don’t need your shit.
Though she didn’t need to, Justia opened her eyes to know if anything had changed, she did. Flashing her eyes wide, she frowned. The car, the guy, and the puttering were there. Why? Maybe it wasn’t her doing. Had she been away too long? They might be searching for her. Could be this guy the search party? Young Arthur hadn’t mentioned if the quarters had a ride time limit? They did back when she was young. Justia shook her head and grumbled. “That’s my luck.”
And God-a’mighty, those two left you with a fuckin’ white guy? Of all the kinds of people you can imagine, you do not need an asshole like that.
Well, too long here or not. Wait. Ain’t I actually on the upper floor of the mall? Something like the holodeck on Star Trek? If the Arthurs wanted me, why the hell couldn’t they just get on the PA system and call me out? Yo, Black-girl, bitch, your time be up. Justia’s shoulders dropped.
“They’s white, acourse.”
Shut up, Mama. Justia brushed her hair from her ear again. Had the Arthurs betrayed her? Neither had mentioned her being alone in…wherever this was. She’d been offered a trip. And agreed it’d be just what she needed. A half-smirk darkened her face.
Mama spoke again, Well, anyways, they’d have to send more than one nerdly looking honky to yank your ass out of there.
I ain’t ready.
How could she not be alone? Those two seemed to know what I needed. Alone was clearly a top-tier thing.
Who in their right mind would send a white guy, besides Dr. Phil, to help her? Why not Oprah?
The Arthurs hadn’t told her about the possibility of meeting someone here. Justia snapped her fingers. By God, this is my imagination. She bunched up her mouth and nose. Why hadn’t she specifically requested to be alone?
The got-dammed fine print, I bet.
Justia turned her attention to him. He turned to look behind his car. Why would he? When he turned around, he seemed to have pity in his eyes. How many times had she seen it from white people.
Maybe if you focus on the leaves, the sky, the sun…what’ you wanted to be a distraction from all the shit
Mama! You’re part of it.
But then, why in the holy hell would you dream up a white guy? Maybe if you stand statue still, they, whoever, might go away, like the butterflies.
“God?”
All the while, the puttering of the old car pulled memories. God didn’t answer.