The Johnson Sisters by Tresser Henderson Page A

mouth like he couldn’t be beat. All mouth and little action was what he was. “I’m from Jersey, yo,” he would say all the time, like that was going to make somebody back down. I had family in Jersey, but none of them bragged like he did. I guess since Virginia was more down south than upstate, he thought everybody from here was supposed to be punks. Boy was he ever wrong.
    He learned one lesson when his ass got stabbed in his back on the basketball court four months ago for running that mouth. It was through the grace of God that the blade missed his spinal cord and he lived. That alone should have been enough to clue him in on keeping his mouth shut, but if anything it made him cockier because he survived the stabbing. He walked with his chest stuck out more than ever now, with not one damn lesson learned. All he got out of it was he had street scars, and the fact that he survived proved his toughness. This punk really began to think his ass was invincible.
    Like a dummy, I still stayed with him. Look where that got me. I could have lost my life at the hands of this fool. He couldn’t beat a dude, so he thought it was fitting to make himself feel better by beating me. I was the only one he had in his corner. A lot of his own family didn’t have his back, so now he was going to stand alone, and I knew this was the time he would run to them. The only one who seemed to have his back was his mother. She was a good woman. Out of this entire situation, she would be the one person I would miss.
    The shower I took made me feel a hundred times better. The hot water helped ease my aching bruises, and I washed my hair, pulling it back in a ponytail. With clean clothes on and feeling refreshed, I felt good.
    The aroma of sausage swarmed the air, and I knew Serena wasn’t in the kitchen. Tyree was. He was the one who did the cooking most of the time between the two. I also smelled coffee, and for once I craved to have a cup with lots of sugar and cream.
    When I got downstairs, to my dismay, my sister Phoenix was sitting at the island in the kitchen. I heard her say, “Cal needs to start counting his nine lives, because Big Ray and them getting ready to take what’s left away from him. I promise you that.”
    She was always so damn loud and dramatic. And they said I was the crazy sister.
    Serena was sitting beside Phoenix. Both were drinking the coffee I smelled earlier. I turned to see, like expected, Tyree at the stove preparing breakfast.
    â€œWhy did you call her?” I asked Serena as I walked into the kitchen painted a sunny yellow. It wasn’t overpowering at all. It made you feel like happiness should always be within this space; but I wasn’t feeling any type of happiness right now, not after seeing Phoenix here. If anything I was feeling dread at the days ahead, knowing I would be the brunt of conversation between my sisters and whatever other family they decided should be brought into my troubles.
    â€œPhoenix called me this morning because we were supposed to go walking so I can start losing this baby weight,” Serena said, grabbing her little pouch from having Nevaeh.
    â€œAnd you couldn’t wait to tell her what happened to me,” I said, crossing my arms in frustration.
    â€œShe is our sister, Shauna. Don’t you think she should know?” Serena asked.
    â€œIf I wanted her to know, I would have run to her house. I thought I could trust you, Serena,” I said, walking around the island to retrieve a mug from the cabinet.
    â€œShauna, you can be mad all you want. Serena’s right. I should know about this,” Phoenix chimed in.
    â€œWhy? What business is this of yours?”
    â€œWe’re sisters. How many times do we have to say this to you? Cal stepped way over the line when he thought it was okay to disrespect you like this. And with him disrespecting you, he has disrespected us. That’s why I called Pookie and Gerald