Prologue

                 Anthea peered down into the hollowed ground.  The improperly shored sides of the grave had already started to crumble and clumps of earth broke with the faintest breath of wind as they landed on the fresh body that lay twisted at the bottom.  Anthea knew a moment of paranoid panic for a few moments as reality set in.  As outraged as she had been, she hadn’t planned on this evening ending in anyone’s death, though she really couldn’t say she was sorry.  Anthea was glad that Ava was here beside her.  Their eyes met, but they did not speak.  Even with the clusters of dirt covering her, the woman in the hole was well-dressed.  Her cane had been forgotten beside the grave.  Anthea nudged the cane with the toe of her shoe until it slid, as if in slow motion, into the opening.  It landed with a dull thud on the dead woman.  Anthea knelt down on both knees and rested her palms on the moist earth so that she was on all fours.  She studied the face of the dead woman…a woman she’d barely known though she’d known her all of her life.

                      The woman’s face, even in death, was haughty.  A diamond and sapphire necklace dangled from her wrinkled neck.  The hem of her emerald silk and lace nightgown had torn in the fall.  The perfectly coiffed hair had finally been disheveled.  This was the first time Anthea had ever seen her mother’s hair misplaced.  Those cold, dark eyes behind the closed eyelids would never violate Anthea’s face again.

           She inhaled deeply.  She felt as though she inhaled for hours, sucking in the moist Dominican breeze.  It felt like that breath went all the way through her.  Through every vein, through to her very toes, through the years of her life.  She closed her eyes and exhaled.  All of the stress that Anthea had held in for decades was released through her mouth as she let her lungs deflate.

                      “Are you ready?” Ava asked.

                      “Yes,” answered Anthea.

The next afternoon, Basil stepped into Lake Street Barbershop.  It was packed with men awaiting a vacant chair.  When Basil walked through the door, several people inspected him.  He wore jeans and a blue and white plaid short-sleeve shirt.

           “How’s it going?”  Basil finally said to everyone since all activity seemed to have stopped on his behalf.  As soon as the door had closed behind him and the reverberation of the bell on it had died away, a sea of brown faces had turned to him all looking as if they expected him to say, “Oops…wrong place.  Sorry folks.”

           Basil stood by the glass front door awkwardly looking for a free seat in the waiting area.

           “Hey, man,” a young barber said to Basil.  He was handsome and mahogany.  “Can I help you with something?”

           “Yeah.”  Basil pointed to his own head.  “Can someone trim me up?”

           The young man looked around.  “Uh, yeah-yeah.  I’m the third chair over there.  Go on and have a seat.”

           After Basil sat in the chair, the shop returned to life as if all they’d needed was to know that he’d been approved by a barber.  The young man draped Basil with a black smock. 

           “My name is Jamal.  What’s going on, man?  I haven’t seen you around here before.”

           “Nothing,” Basil said.  “I’m Basil Jenkins.  I just moved here so I’m checking out some places.  Someone told me about this shop so I decided to come on in.”

           “Yeah?”  Jamal asked, cutting Basil’s hair.  “Where’d you move?”

           

            “Over there on Pine.”

            “Pine Street?” Jamal asked.  “You mean that blue house beside Crazy Joe?”

            “Yeah,” Basil said slowly.  “It’s blue, but I don’t know anyone named Crazy Joe.”

            Jamal laughed to himself.  “Don’t worry.  You will.”

            Basil sat in the chair, bewildered.

            “Have you met anyone yet?”  Jamal asked.

            “As a matter of fact, two people brought me dinner last night.  It was good too.”  Basil laughed.

            “Who brought you that good food?  Shoot, I want some good food!”

            Basil laughed some more.  “This girl named Lily Blue.  She was real nice.”

            “Yeah,” Jamal said nodding.  “I know Lily.  She’s one of the nicest people I know.  I’ve been trying to get with her for a long time.  She’s going out with some fool, though.  I can’t stand him.”

           “Oh, man,” Basil said, dropping his hand on his knee.  “There was this fine girl with Lily.  She lives right across the street from me.  Mean as hell!  Her name is Fonnie Bishop.”

           “Oh Lord!”  The whole shop exclaimed at the sound of Fonnie’s name.  Basil started and Jamal told him to keep his head still.

           “You met Fonnie?”  Jamal asked laughing hysterically.

           “If that’s what you want to call it,” Basil said.

           “Ha!  I bet she tore your pale butt up!”  Jamal said, laughing even harder.

           “Ain’t that the truth?”  Basil said, listening to half of the shop erupt in laughter.  “Did I do something to make her dislike me?”

           “Yeah,” Jamal said.  “You were born.  That’s basically all it takes for Fonnie.  The only ones she’s nice to are her own family and Lily.  And that’s only sometimes.  I saw her curse out a lady in church one time.”

           “Really?”  Basil asked.

           “Yeah.”  Jamal nodded.  “I’ve seen her do a whole lot of mess like that.  Just evil.”

           “She’s so pretty though,” Basil mused.  “There’s no need for her to be all mean like she is.”

           Jamal was done with Basil’s hair quickly.

           “You need to stay away from her.  She’s going to tear you to pieces.”

           “Naw,” Basil said, shaking his head as Jamal brushed him off.  “I think I can handle her.”