..... Watson's eyes were suddenly around Collin, enveloping and soft. It took some of the poison out of him. None of the intensity, though. Seeing the Reverend only made that boom bigger than ever.
..... "Are you reading from this boy's book now, Collin?"
..... "I give equal time to all folks, sir." Collin believed it was true after all. The sorry shake of Watson's head stirred him with disappointment all the same.
..... "That's your problem right there then," Watson said.
..... Watson walked to the bound dog and released the leash. The animal dove for the water and set to slurping. "You need to listen only to what's right-to the good way of Jesus."
..... Collin bristled. He wanted to do good. But teachings of non-violence and charity only meant learning to accept more and more pain. It meant handouts and hand-me-downs and living in houses too poor to have doors. It meant Mama raiding his bedroom for things to sell, just to parole her mind from the pain of crack withdrawal. It was a life of giving up dreams and settling with nightmares.
..... What was the good in that?
..... "I try to follow the Book."
..... "Trying isn't good enough," Watson insisted. "You have to set aside your daddy's path-stop chasing the fantasy of slinging dope. There's no return to that, Collin, just a jail cell or a bullet same as he got."
..... "I'm better than my father," Collin said, and the bristling became electric with need to have that be true.
..... "There's no one better than the game, except for those that don't give up their lives playing it." Watson opened his hands. They were cracked and tough with use. Their emptiness was loud. "Think of your mama, son."
..... At that, Collin's bristling caught fire. His hands flew up, voice soaring.
..... "Who you think I'm thinking of, man?" Collin yelled. "Who do you think's holding my house together, fighting to get her what she needs, while she crying and begging me and pissing in the corners of my goddamn house?"
..... "Collin."
..... "I got all that on me!" Collin took two steps back to keep himself from running at Watson. He would take the man's hands off; he would pull every tooth from his mouth. Watson was no longer large to Collin-not when Collin's rage was gigantic. "All of it! On me! At twelve, fool!"
..... "Collin, you can come to me for help." Watson was stepping backward for his beater now. "Come by the Missionary Baptist, son."
..... "Don't you fucking 'son' me!"
..... It knocked Watson's face down. He slid into the car.
..... "Yeah, that's straight, dog," Nony cheered him. Somewhere, Collin sensed, Sky's eyes were back to broadcasting that terror and expectation.
..... "You hear?" Collin yelled. "Don't you ever fucking 'son' me! I don't beg for nothing!"
..... "That's right, Collin. That's right, dog." Nony bobbed, Collin's excitement contagious. He looked truly alive, everything about him glowing as if caught in the flashbulb of intensity. Nony laughed as Watson's car coughed away.
..... Collin was still seething when Nony's hand set on his shoulder. He felt terrified, but not the way he did when he woke to Mama rummaging under his bed. It was a fear of what was inside him-of the sheer size of it. Collin feared that it could stomp the entire city down without even trying.
..... He feared it would be enough to do what he had to.
..... Nony squeezed his shoulder. "Come on, soldier. Let's get your real daddy's package for you."