Divided

“Oh, here you go again, Jasmine. Did you ever stop to think that, that boy’s death wasn’t racially
motivated? That he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?” he argued.
“No, Samuel. Because it doesn’t explain why that little white kid was found strung up in retaliation. I
know you want to see the world as blind to color, but tolerant people don’t do things like that. That was
hate, pure and simple. Now, imagine what those groups are going to do to a family that straddles both
sides?”
“Jasmine--”
“And that happened when we still had guards.”
Terrified, I repeated our mother’s words, “We should leave.”
Derrick’s huff was all I needed to remind me of how similar he was to dad. His hand disconnected from
mine only to purposely shove me aside. “Dad knows what he’s talking about.”
My mouth fell open. Was Derrick serious? Were we listening to the same conversation? Dad was scared,
and his fucking false bravado was going to get us killed.
“Dad doesn’t know shit,” I said under my breath, but from my brother’s clenched jaw I knew that he
heard me even if he didn’t reply.
“And what about Cassie? Her gift?” Mama suddenly questioned.
Once again, I stilled, waiting for his response.
“Gift?”
What can I say? Dad always had an uncanny talent for making me feel like shit. And as his thin upper lip
curled in disdain, I knew that this moment would be no different.
“Her curse is not real, Jasmine. We’ve been over this. Cassie isn’t some voodoo soothsayer,” he taunted.
“I never said that she was--”
“Then why are you bringing it up? Huh? First, you keep talking about some feeling, and now Cassie has a
gift? That girl ain’t got nothing but an overactive imagination.”
“Is that why you make her wear those gloves twenty-four seven?” Mama argued, that old spark finally
returning to her eyes. “Why you haven’t looked at her the same since Grace’s diagnosis? Why we spent
so much money on therapy?”
As if therapy could make me stop seeing the revulsion in your eyes, Dad.
“Look, Cassie is fine. We will all be fine. Jasmine, you just need to stop worrying. Derrick and I will start
to keep a lookout tomorrow if it’ll make you feel better.”
Yet, Mama remained silent as if trapped in her thoughts.
Dad kneeled at her side like a white knight in some demented fairy tale. “Jasmine listen to me. We will
be fine here. We’ll protect our family, our home. The streets are silent. The curfew is still in effect.”
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