Sunday, December 30, 2012


         G’Morning, Cass.


    It cooled off like crazy last night. Glad I had your sweater to keep me warm. 

    Just wish I had you. 

    Divo reminded me about that free clothes bank we went to. Might as well hit them up before movin’ on. Only gonna get colder, now it’s December. Guess the holidays are comin’ up soon. Everybody’s got them Christmas lights up. Checked the newspapers yesterday. It was the tenth, which makes today the eleventh. Was gonna get you that grey sweater you liked. Finally saved up enough money for it, and I didn’t even have to turn tricks or nothin’, neither. Beena does that, now. Remember when Frankie tried to get you into that? Divo kicked his ass, left him cryin’ in the dirt. Told him it was sick, tryin’ to get a fourteen year old into that. 
You were just a kid. 

    Frankie died last week, too. Just laid down for a nap and didn’t wake up, same as you. Now it’s just me, Beena, and Divo, since Ace left to marry some rich chick last year, and Eezy’s Mama come to get ‘im. 
    I miss you, Cass. 

      Remember we used to play that game, I-Spy? You used to go first, but on that last night, you let me.
I said, “I spy, with my little eye, something sweet.” 
You kept guessin’ about the chocolate shop and the coffee place, but you didn’t get it. You fell asleep before you could guess. 

It was you.

Beena started singin’ your song the other day. Divo joined her, and finally got me to do it, too. My voice isn’t as pretty as yours was. Yours could light me up inside like nothin’ could. Beena says you sang like an angel. Divo says you sang perfect.

I think you sang like home.

    My birthday was yesterday. I didn’t remember, but the others did. Beena made me a card. She used the art supplies she bought, and Divo signed it, too. She made the G  backwards. I gotta give her credit, though. She drew a cake and balloons on the inside and it looked so real, the cake made my mouth water. 

I miss your voice. 
I wish you could sing me to sleep tonight.

I used Beena’s art supplies to make a sign. “Going Nowhere Fast”, just like that social worker said I was doing when she took me out of those foster homes. I remember one night, you asked me if Nowhere was a real place. I said yeah, and you said, “We ever gonna get there, G?”
I said, “Close your eyes, and pray we don’t.”


Guess what, Cass?

I found it.

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