African Voices Summer 2017 AV Summer 2017 Digital Issue | Page 14

Why it got to be like this, I wanted to know. Why can’t nobody want me, all of me, just as I am? I used to have that, didn’t
I? I couldn’t remember. I let go. Her hands felt clammy, cold, inhuman. I didn’t want to be near her anymore. We were
close enough.
If she noticed my distaste, Isis was too professional to let on. I’m sure Management had given her a script. Isis was good
at memorizing her lines. She lip-synced better than anyone who ever lived.
“Got somethin’ for ya.” She handed me a box.
Ksst. I didn’t want any more payoffs from her, no more expensive trinkets and souvenirs. What’s the use when I no longer
had a life?
“Go ‘head, open it,” she commanded. There was the Isis I knew. I snatched it from her open palm.
“I don’t need your toys, Ice, I need my freedom.”
I tossed the velvet ribbon and opened the latch. A gold and diamond encrusted ankh decorated with a scarab beetle rested
on a white satin lotus flower.
“Thanks.” I walked away. I needed to shower, to sleep before the next rehearsal. It was obvious that neither Isis nor
Management cared about me. Something about geese and golden eggs.
As I turned the lights back off, I could see Ice’s face before she slipped out the door. If I