The debut by Kai Harris is on shelves now.
Granddaddy’s house is quiet in the morning.
This morning don’t feel like those.
Kai Harris' debut novel ‘What the Fireflies Knew’ is out now on Phoebe Robinson’s new imprint.Tiny Reparations Books
Granddaddy sits at the table quiet, drinking black coffee from a plain white mug.
Nia don’t speak, so I don’t, either.
She finds a box of oatmeal in the kitchen and makes a bowl that she puts in the microwave.
I hope she makes me a bowl, too, but I don’t ask.
Instead, I sit at the table cross from Granddaddy, watching him as he reads.
Granddaddy holds the edges of the newspaper tight in his thick, calloused hands.
Nia joins us at the table with two bowls of oatmeal, one for her and one for me.
I realize she got the same frown on her face like Granddaddy, and I giggle.
Guess we really are family.
I scoot my bowl close and dip my spoon into the oatmeal.
Nia made it with brown sugar and butter, just like I like.
With Momma gone, I can’t help but be happy that I at least have Nia.
She does some things just as good as Momma.
I smile at her, my way of saying thank you, but she don’t smile back.
I feel the start of tears cramming up into my throat, but I swallow them down, quick.
Nia turns around so fast she spills a little bit of sugar on the floor.
“What you say?”
Nia’s head is tilted to one side and her eyes are squinted tight like they almost closed.
“I said,” I start again, louder, “you the reason why Momma left.”
I say each word slow, so she can hear me this time.
Granddaddy hears me, too, and lowers his newspaper, just a little.
Nia stands there for a few seconds not saying anything.
I bet she surprised I said something mean to her for once.
Eventually, she rolls her eyes and says, quiet, “You so stupid.”
Granddaddy finally speaks, folding his newspaper and placing it on the table in front of him.
I think he’s gon' say more, but he don’t.
Nia comes back to the table and slams her bowl down, hard.
“You the stupid one,” I say, feeling confident now.
“Kenyatta” Granddaddy starts, but I keep going.
All you care bout are your stupid friends, and they dumb just like you.
Even Momma don’t like you, and she like everybody!
Now I gotta be stuck here with him"glare at Granddaddy"all cause of you!"
Nia and Granddaddy both stand up at the same time.
“Shut up, KB!”
“That’s enough!”
Satisfied, I grab my bowl and leave the table.
When I’m done, I don’t even look back at them.
Everything comes alive as I find the right words to describe what I see.
I tread through a patch of mud that covers my sandaled feet.
I imagine I’m an explorer at the start of a mysterious journey.
Kinda scared and full of questions.
I inhale the smell of fresh cut grass.
A small, furry animal runs past me and up a tree.
Colorful flowers remind me of the rainbows in my books.
Back at the dead-end house, we never had real flowers.
Momma kept a glass vase on the card table in the kitchen, which mostly stayed empty.
But sometimes she would fill it with plastic flowers from the dollar store.
The petals on the fake flowers pulled off in mounds with a smell like rubber bands.
I pick a flower that smells like clean laundry and perfume.
I pick another, and another.
Even though I’m mad at her, picking flowers makes me think of Nia.
She never liked Momma’s plastic flowers and would hide them under the sink when her friends came over.
But then I remember yelling at Nia.
Especially since I was s’posed to be tryna get Nia to be my friend again.
I bet I just ruined that for good.
“We’re going outside!”
I stop looking for flowers and watch them instead.
The boy looks older than the girl, maybe even older than me.
But not older than Nia.
I watch as he pulls the girl in a bright red wagon.
What we did get, one Christmas, was one of them Barbie Jeeps.
It was shiny and purple and perfect.
But we loved that Jeep like it was brand- new.
But she ain’t mind.
