had. I knew my secret would never leave his lips.
I went upstairs to see my moms. She was in the living room talking with the funeral director. She told me that she wanted to get it over as soon as possible, but I told her I was on top of that.
“Ma, I told you I would take care of everything.”
She gave me the stay in a child’s place, shut up, I have company look. “Excuse me, Mr. Holcomb. Then she turned to me and said, “This is Mr. Holcomb of Holcomb’s Funeral Home. He was just leaving. But Mr. Holcomb, you remember my youngest son, Kaylin.”
Mr. Holcomb stood up; he resembled George Jefferson. He may not have remembered me, but I remembered him. My father took my brother and me to his funeral home on several occasions. Mr. Holcomb would sit us down in his office and give us some ice cream, and my father and he would go to the next room and conduct business. My dad ran the streets and died in the streets.
“I do, Mama Santos.” He held out his hand, and I shook it. “You might not remember me, but your daddy and I go way back. He used to bring you and your brother to the other funeral home over on 129th. I’ma make sure we have a good homecoming for your brother. I owe it to your father and your mother. Your brother, he’s in these hands, which means good hands.” He held both hands out, smiling from ear to ear.
“Thank you, Mr. Holcomb.” I showed him to the door. “Has my mother paid you for your services yet?”
“Nooo! Your mother’s money is no good with me. If I took money from your mother, your daddy would turn over in his grave.”
“Give me your card,” I told him. He went inside his vest pocket and came out with a business card.
“Call me anytime. I’m available around the clock.”
“I appreciate it.” I showed him out and went back inside to talk to my mother. She was in the kitchen cooking dinner.
“Ma, a free funeral? You know all he is going to do is throw that shit together. Is that what you want? I told you I would handle it.”
“And you can. You can pick out everything except for his suit. I already let Mr. Holcomb know. Now, sit down. That girl Mari was by here.” She let out a sigh. I braced myself. “She said that Kyron raped Trae’s wife. Kay, tell me why on earth would that girl say such a thing? What is the matter with her?”
“Ma, she’s just angry with him, that’s all.”
“Who did this to your brother?”
“Mom, I wish I could tell you that. Kyron was not himself when he came home. He was stirring up a lot of trouble, making lots of enemies. It could have been anybody.”
“You wish you could tell me? What does that mean? You know, but you can’t tell me, or you don’t know?”
“Mom, stop it.”
“Well, tell me this. Do you think Trae did it because he wasn’t able to finish him off at the hospital? And don’t lie to me.”
Damn. I had to choose my words and the way I said them carefully. “No, Mom. Trae wasn’t trying to kill him; he wanted to scare him. He has enough trouble of his own. I’ve been meaning to tell you, he’s in jail for two murders out there in California. So trust me when I tell you, he has his hands full. He doesn’t even have a bond.”
“Oh, my God!” She put the lid on the pot and grabbed her heart. “You boys . . . it seems like it’s all catching up to you. I feared that it would happen like this. I honestly believed that I would never have to bury any of my three children. But I’m getting ready to bury my firstborn.”
She grabbed a seat at the kitchen table, said a prayer, and then began to cry.
ANGEL
Kaylin had been running around with Mama Santos, getting everything together for Kyron’s funeral. I saw it in him. He was numb throughout the whole thing, just going through the motions. He didn’t even want to talk about it, which only made me think that he had something to do with his own brother’s murder. I saw it in his demeanor.
The funeral was small and personal, with not more than twenty people. Nothing elaborate, and I was wondering where Kyron’s friends were. Hell, he obviously didn’t