"Here you go, Aunt Jazz."

I carefully walked the pot, with just enough water, over to Jazz. Not too much, not too little, just like she said. I loved helping Jazz in the kitchen. After I got it over to her, I climbed my little eight year old legs back onto the stool by the sink, which was my usual post. Jazz's house was my favorite place, and she always said that as long as I stayed useful, I could come over there as much as I wanted. That's why every time I saw her get up to go into the kitchen, I was always right behind her.

"You never made this before, Jazz."

"You're right, Kenney. I haven't."

I watched her put the pot on the gas stove and turn the fire all the way up. She pointed to the cocaine on the counter next to me. I had seen cocaine plenty of times and knew what it was, but I had never seen her cook it before. I wondered if she was turning it into food. At Jazz and Rico's parties, people usually just cut it up and snorted it, which made me think it was medicine, like daddy's, but now I wasn't sure. I walked the package over to her, then picked up what looked like a bottle halfway filled dirty water and peered at it.

"This looks like water."

She took it from me. "It's not, Kenney. Get back on your stool. I need to concentrate." I nodded and posted back up by the sink. "Kenney, this is not for drinking, ok?"

"Ok." I nodded and pointed to the cocaine. "That's medicine, right? Like daddy's?"

"Yes, but not like daddy's."

"Why not?"

"You take this a different way."

I nodded in agreement and looked back toward the living room, where the music was blasting and people were laughing and dancing. The house was full of alcohol and smoke. The usual Friday night.

"Jazz, did daddy already take his medicine?"

"No. He doesn't need it tonight."

"Why not?"

"He only takes it when he can't sleep, remember?" I nodded. "Hand me the baking soda, Kenney." I walked it over to her and then got back up on my stool.

"Sometimes me and Sammy can't sleep." Jazz paused and looked back at me, then turned her attention back toward the stove. I watched her cloudy white liquid become thicker, slowly turning into a solid. "That looks like candy."

She paused again, and then kept swirling her jar around. "It's not, Kenney. Never eat this."

"Because it's not for kids, right?"

"Right."

I watched her turn off the stove and run cold water into her jar. Then she pulled what still looked like candy to me out of the jar and put it in a baking pan on the counter.

"Is it fudge?"

"No. Fudge is brown."

"Are you giving some to daddy? Can I have some?"

"No. Daddy can't have this and neither can you. This is for our customers."

I nodded. "Ok." Jazz turned to me and saw me eyeing the white powder that was spilled out next to me on the counter.

"That's not sugar, Kenney. That's cocaine. Be careful not to spill it next time. That's money. Nothing in here is to eat, you understand me?" I nodded. "From this point on, do not eat or drink anything in this house without asking me or Uncle Rico first, got it?" I nodded. "If I catch you doin' what I told you not to do I'ma beat your butt. Ya heard?" I nodded again and looked back at the fudge on the counter. "Kenney, look at me." I did. "And your mama's gonna beat your butt after that."

Now, that I heard loud and clear. Jazz I could usually deal with, because she would eventually stop. But once mama got triggered, she would just keep beating us until she got tired or until daddy came home. She used to beat Charity all the time. But Charity was bad. She would always do the opposite of whatever anybody told her to do. Me and Sammy usually acted like we had some home training. But Charity...

Charity was mama's favorite anyway, though, I could tell. And Charity knew it, too. Sammy was daddy's favorite, and I was Jazz's. That's why I stayed around Jazz all the time.

I put my finger in the cocaine on the counter and rolled it around. I had seen Jazz and Rico do this before and run it across their teeth. To see if it made their gums numb, Jazz told me. I was just looking at it, though. I wasn't gonna put it in my mouth. Jazz was suddenly beside me and grabbed my hand like she was about to break my wrist.

"Kenney!" She slapped my butt. Hard. "What did I just say?" She hit me again.

"I wasn't gonna eat it Aunt Jazz! I was just looking!"

"Do not touch this, son!" She hit me one more time. "Kenney," she picked me up off of the step stool and put me down on the ground. "This is poison and if you eat it, it will kill you."

I felt the blood drain from my face. "You're killing them?" I looked back toward the party. "But daddy's in there. He takes medicine, too..."

Jazz looked agitated, like she had too much going on, but she took off her over mitt and sat down on the floor, anyway, then patted the floor beside her. I sat down next to her.

"Kenney, what we're making and what we sell is called drugs. Do you know what drugs are?" I nodded. Of course I did. "There's the good kind that you get from the doctor, and the bad kind you get off the street. We sell the bad kind."

I was still trying to wrap my just barely eight year old mind around the fact that Jazz had poisoned the drugs and was about to kill all those people.

She watched me and read my face. "I'm not gonna kill your daddy, Kenney." I sat back against the cabinet and stretched my legs out, like she was doing, relieved. "Drugs are very, very bad for you, but some people like the way they make them feel." I perked up. She eyed me. "They make you feel like you're out of control, and we don't like that feeling, do we?"

"Ummm..." I wasn't sure if I liked it or not. "Daddy likes it."

Jazz's grey eyes pierced into mine. "Daddy's not in charge, is he?" Again, I wasn't sure about that. "Kenney, we're in charge." She pointed to herself and me. "Me, you and Rico. We run this neighborhood, nephew, and we have to stay alert and make sure people pay their money on time. We can't do drugs like everybody else, ya heard? We have to pay attention to everything. Understand?"

I nodded. "If it's bad for you, why do you give it to daddy?"

"Because he wants it. And we give the people what they want. That's our business, right? That's what we do here." I nodded. "And because he wants it, he would just go to someone else if he didn't get it from us. But those other people might hurt him if he couldn't pay, right?" I nodded my head.

I had seen people get hurt because they couldn't pay before. I had seen Uncle Rico hurt people because they couldn't pay before. Again, Aunt Jazz read my face.

"But we love daddy, so we won't hurt him. That's why it's better that he gets his heroine from us, right?" I nodded. "Kenney..."

"Yeah Jazz?" I looked into her eyes like I was trying to soak up everything that she was teaching me. She always answered every question I had, whether I asked it out loud or not.

And she always told me the truth.

"What we're cooking is illegal. What does that mean?"

"That you can go to jail."

"That's right. We could all go to jail. Me, Rico, Daddy, Remmey, everybody. And they can take you and your sisters away and put you in foster care. We don't want that, right?"

"Right." I nodded, my eyes getting bigger by the minute. I didn't want them to take my family away. And I definitely didn't want to go to foster care. Whatever that was...

"So we can't ever tell anyone what we do here. Never say anything to anyone, ok?"

"I won't." I shook my head and put my thumb to her lips. She kissed it. That was our secret pact.

"If somebody says they want some drugs or says they want anything at all from you, or asks if you know where they can get some of what they want, what do you say?"

"I don't know shit and I ain't got shit."

She chuckled. "Who told you to say that?"

"Uncle Remmey."

She laughed harder. "Don't say 'shit,' nephew. That's a bad word. Everything else you just said is perfect."

"Ok." I wrapped my arms around her neck and kissed her cheek. "I love you, Aunt Jazz." I pulled back and looked into her eyes. She was my all-time favorite. She reminded me so much of Sammy.

"Where is Sammy?" I wondered out loud.

"Daddy took her home. She doesn't feel good."

"Again?"

"Yeah." She nodded and looked into my eyes. Past the surface and all the way to the back of my head. She always looked at me like that. She always looked at everyone like that. Some people were afraid of it, like Ruby, but I liked it. I liked it when she read me and understood me, because no one else other than Sammy and daddy did.

Jazz could see how much it hurt me whenever Sammy was hurting. And lately Sammy was always hurting. Jazz looked at me like that for a minute longer, and then made a funny face at me. I laughed and made one back.

"Ready to cook?" I nodded. "Ok, we have to make one more. Maybe we'll try the coffee pot this time. To make it bigger." I nodded again. Whatever she said sounded good to me. She stood up and helped me up off of the floor.

Suddenly Ruby ran into the kitchen and Jazz's whole face changed. Just that quick. She looked like Ruby was about to be the next thing that we cooked up.

"Jazz! Jazz!" Ruby held up her hands to keep Jazz from coming at her. She knew the kitchen was off limits to everyone but me and Jazz. "There was an accident! Christian and..."

After she said daddy's name, Ruby's voice trailed off and her eyes shifted over to me. Then she looked back at Jazz and didn't finish her sentence.

Jazz didn't even wait for her to finish. Before I knew it, she shoved me toward Ruby like "watch him," and then was out the door.