Page 1 of Kane

Prologue

Chicago, 1996

Kane

One. Two. Three…

I breathe in slowly as the lights flicker above me, trying my hardest not to make a peep.

Mama told me we’re playing the quiet game. You can’t make a sound, no matter what. The game’s over when the door opens and Mama comes to get me. She never wins the quiet game. Especially not when she has company.

Or when Daddy comes home.

“Cyd, please…” Her voice rumbles like an earthquake.

Four. Five. Six…

Daddy’s shadow stretches over me, over my feet. I steal a glance through the slats at Mama.

“Little birdie told me you been talking to the cops.”

Mama backs up, covering me with her shadow.

“What? Where did you hear that?” she asks, her voice still shaking.

Mama always says you can tell when an honest person’s lyin’ because they don’t talk right. Their voice wiggles because it's hard to tell a lie.

I think Mama’s lyin’, but why would she lie to Daddy?

He growls, and the sound of a smack echoes in the air. Mama yelps, her shadow wiggling like her voice.

She stumbles but doesn’t fall, even in those tippy shoes she wears. She backs up as he walks closer, and I can’t take my eyes off of him.

“I ain’t talk to no one, Cyd. You know that…”

“You lie like a fucking rug, Leah.”

Mama yelps as she stumbles forward, her shadow disappearing as Daddy lets out one of his wolfy growls. He does that when he’s mad. He must be mad ‘cause he knows Mama’s lyin’.

I search my brain, going over all the company we had this week. I don’t remember seeing no policeman, but Daddy is never wrong. Mama says even if I know the truth, Daddy’s always right.

Don’t ask questions if you don’t want your ass whooped, Kathan, baby.

Don’t see nothin’, don’t hear nothin’, don’t know nothin’.

Always.

Mama rarely calls me by my full name. ‘Less she’s telling me something important or she’s mad at me.

“You think those bastards are going to save you?” he snarls. “Like some damsel in distress?” His voice rises, making the hair on my arm stand at attention. Daddy’s got a big voice; the kind that booms and shakes the apples from the trees.

No one ever says no to Daddy. No one ever argues with him.

‘Cus they respect him, he says.

‘Cus they afraid of him, Mama says.

I wish I could be like him sometimes; wish I could be as big and powerful as him. But I’m not.