Perfect Peace by Daniel Black

you serious? That’s kinda stupid, ain’t it? I bet Gus named him, didn’t he?”
    “He’s a sweet boy, Momma. Grin all de time. Happy as he can be.”
    “Yep, Gus named him,” Mae Helen murmured. “Ain’t no way in the world I woulda let that fool name my baby no Mister. That’s ’bout de dumbest thing I ever heard of, but if you like it . . .”
    “His name’s fine, Momma. Like I said, he’s a good baby. Don’t do nothin’ but laugh all the time. The boys love him.”
    “I guess they do! They don’t know no better.”
    Emma Jean grimaced. “What’s that suppose to mean?”
    “Oh, don’t worry about it. I was jes’ talking to myself.”
    That’s when Emma Jean broke. “Get out, Momma!”
    Mae Helen trembled. “What did you say, girl?”
    “I said, get the hell out of my house!” Emma Jean went to the screen and held it open. “You ain’t never said a kind word to me my whole life. Pearlie and Gracie were
your
precious daughters, and I was the garbage my daddy left behind. I thought that maybe you’d start bein’ nice to me when I got grown, but obviously I thought wrong. You talk about Gus like a dog and treat my boys like they ain’t nothin’!”
    “What?” Mae Helen stood. “I speak to dem ugly children all the time!”
    “Can you say something nice for once! Huh? Can you? Would it kill you to be kind just for a day?”
    “It’s nice enough of me just to come over here!” Mae Helen declared, sashaying past Emma Jean and into the yard.
    Emma Jean followed. “Don’t chu know what it do to a child to call ’em mean names? Don’t chu know you cain’t treat children that way and get away with it forever? Don’t you know I dreamed about stabbing you every night I slept in that house?”
    Mae Helen smacked her lips.
    “You ain’t got to care ’cause I ain’t got to have you no more. And God have mercy on yo’ soul if you ever need me!” Emma Jean panted.
    “Why, you ungrateful heffa! How dare you talk to me like that after all I did for you.”
    “Oh, Momma, please! All you did for me was make me hate you.”
    Mae Helen shuddered. “Pearlie and Gracie would never talk to me like this.”
    “I’m sure they wouldn’t! Perfect Pearlie and Gracie.”
    “You always was jealous of them.”
    Emma Jean hollered, “Oh kiss my ass, Momma!” and marched back into the kitchen.
    Mae Helen pranced away, leaving Emma Jean overwhelmed. She loved her mother and that’s what she hated most. Her childhood had been spent praying for a change of Mae Helen’s heart, although it never happened. She thought she’d gotten over things by now, but Mae Helen’s demeaning of her boys conjured memories of Emma Jean’s dream of killing her. Now that she was a mother, she could live without her own, she determined, but what she couldn’t tolerate was the possibility that her boys might grow up like she had, feeling ugly and rejected. She’d stab Mae Helen directly in the heart before she’d let her do that to another child.
    The cussing felt good and relieved Emma Jean of years of repressed emotions. Fear had always made her contain her tongue, lest she disrespect her mother beyond repair, but now it didn’t matter. Emma Jean wished she had beaten her. That’s what she had felt like doing, and that would have cleansed her heart completely. Or so she thought. The truth was that the episode left her shaken for three days. The least noise caused her to glance over her shoulder, thinking Mae Helen had returned to whip her good. She hated how much she feared her mother, and she hated even more that she couldn’t stop loving her.
     
    Emma Jean laid Perfect in the bassinet and dreamed of all the things they’d do together. Like pick blackberries along the banks of the Jordan and talk about boys the way she and her sisters once did.
    “Ain’t Virgil Ponds ’bout the cutest thing you ever seen?” Pearlie said dreamily one hot July morning. She’d just turned twelve.
    Gracie and Emma Jean