The Bridge by Solomon Jones Page B

that she was taking advantage of her nephew, that the age difference between them was too great.
    Lily could do nothing to tell Judy otherwise. She knew that a black woman never lets go of the boys she raises. Perhaps that’s why, a year into the affair, the mother in Lily wouldn’t allow her to continue. When she suddenly broke it off, Darnell was never the same.
    He poured his loneliness into other women. When that didn’t suffice, he poured it into a crack pipe, slowly at first, then with increasing abandon. His magnificent body fell away to nearly nothing, and the spark in his eyes that had drawn Lily to him faded away slowly.
    Before long, the deep, abiding loneliness that had always consumed him shone through. His mask of self-assuredness dropped into the pipe with everything else. He seemed to be a different
person. And so did his aunt, Judy. She began to treat Darnell like all the others who filed in and out of her apartment, feeding him crack as if it were candy and despising him for what he had become.
    Lily watched it all from a distance. By the time she decided to reach back for Darnell—to pull him from the loneliness that had drawn them toward one another—it was too late. He’d already surrendered to addiction. His youthful hunger had given way to deception and lies. His desire for companionship had been sated by the pipe.
    All that Lily had left of him was his niece, Kenya. So she tightened her grip on that child, praying that she could keep her from being consumed by the flames around her.
    Now, Lily realized that in spite of her best efforts, she couldn’t save Kenya. She was gone. And the man standing in front of her was so depleted that she hardly knew him anymore.
    It saddened her to see him that way. But as her mind came back to the moment, she knew that she couldn’t show it. So she concealed it with the harshness she’d learned from all her years in the Bridge.
    â€œI ain’t got time to be talkin’ about what used to be,” she said sharply. “If you got somethin’ to say about Kenya, I’m listenin’. But if you don’t, get out.”
    For a second, Darnell’s face looked as if it might crumple beneath Lily’s stinging words. But he quickly recovered and looked around uncomfortably as he tried to find a way to ask the question that he must. When he realized there was no other way to say it, he was straightforward.
    â€œDid you know about Sonny and Kenya?”
    Lily searched his eyes and tried to understand what she was hearing. Because it couldn’t be what she thought it was.
    â€œI just found out,” she said. “But you knew? You knew, and you didn’t say anything?”
    â€œNo,” he said. “I didn’t know ‘til this mornin’, when I heard the cops was lookin’ for Sonny. But Judy knew.”

    â€œLook, Darnell, don’t be comin’ in here on that shit talkin’ all crazy.”
    â€œLook at me, Lily. Do I look like I’m high? I been walkin’ around since seven o’clock this mornin’ lookin’ for my niece, tryin’ to figure out what happened to her.
    â€œNow, I know she told some people about Sonny. And I know she was gettin’ ready to tell some more people—maybe even the cops. My niece was tired, Lily. She was tired o’ watchin’ me smoke, tired o’ watchin’ Judy sellin’ crack, tired o’ watchin’ all that madness that went on in between. But mostly, she was tired o’ Sonny doin’ what he was doin’.”
    â€œSo Sonny did somethin’ to Kenya to keep her from tellin’?”
    â€œSonny ain’t the one sent her out there ten o’clock at night to go to the store.”
    â€œWhat you sayin’, Darnell? Just say it.”
    â€œI’m sayin’ Judy couldn’t have Sonny goin’ to jail, ’cause Judy can’t hustle by herself. So she sent Kenya out