Where Grass Blooms by Paula G. Akinwole

This is a highly edited but uncompleted draft of this story. It’s growth is organic and still needs time. It has been developing for years and I’m sure you might find typos and some inconsistencies. But, this story is important and wildly brave for me. So… I hope you enjoy!

The Samson family lived in Montgomery Woods for 6 generations. The first two generations made home of the once thriving neighborhood in the apartment buildings located in the back of the community on the last street. They were a traditional ghetto with stone walls and apartments stacked one atop of another. In the late 60’s, when a little boy fell from the 12th floor and died, bars were fixed to the windows and doors of each unit. After that no one of affluence wanted to live near the area. The once thriving community of Montgomery Woods was nicknamed “Mount Go” and became one of the most violent and gang ridden neighborhoods in the city.

Nammy Samson purchased the only house the Samson family would ever live in. It was three blocks from the projects, still inside Montgomery Woods but in a less congested part of the community.. From there, you could still hear the guns late at night and folks weren’t free from the effects of violence but there were no stone walls or metal bars and they had their own yard.

The home was simple but to a family with little, it was everything. The one floor starter house had three bedrooms, an average size kitchen, a panty and a large living room. The house was decorated with memories from the Samson family’s lives. The kitchen table was one that Nammy’s father had made by hand. The curtains in the living room belonged to her grandmother and had patches she had sewn in herself. On the coffee table lay an oversized Bible with each family member’s birthday and death date starting with Nammy’s great grandmother who had been gifted it from a traveling preacher. Red brick with green shutters decorated the outside of the house and a long driveway that was mostly used as a basketball court for the neighborhood kids sat to the left of the front door. There was also a porch that wrapped the partial front of the house where elder’s could sit and watch kids get off the school bus or cars go by. The house was Nammy’s pride and jou. Since its purchase, the Samson’s home had been the epicenter of every birthday party, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter Sunday, and even the birth of a few children. Nammy loved every part of that old house, even the yard though it refused to grow grass. Up until Nammy’s death in the early 2000’s, she would spend a few hours every week in the yard planting whatever she could hoping the earth would receive it. She’d grow plants and bushes in the house but as soon as she’d transfer them outside, they’d wither and die. This didn’t bother Nammy much. She said that it wasn’t her job to decide what the Earth had to put up with. 

The only plant that ever lived in the yard was a small prickly-bry bush that Nammy had planted for her son Maxwell the day he was killed. Maxwell had met the same fate as many of the men in the Samson family. Tragic. Either by a gang or the enemy of one, over a dozen prickly bry’s could have been planted for the father’s, uncles, dad’s and son’s the Samson women had buried. For reasons many protested, Nammy chose to cremate her son against the wishes of the religious who hollered that the dead in Christ couldn’t ride if there was no body in one place. Nammy was content and willing to do what her grandmother and her grandmother’s grandmother had done. Burn the body, keep it close. So she sprinkled his ashes in the roots of the prickly-bry bush. That bush grew big enough to be a tree. Eventually, the house became the pride of Nammy’s eldest son, Donald and after, it became the property of Donald’s daughter Theresa who intended to leave it to her three boys’ Wyland, Marcole, and Nedrick. 

The day of the funeral of Theresa’s three sons, the entire Samson family was gathered at the old house. They would mourn together. The sound of their cries carried out onto the front porch, passed the children idling quietly in the yard, and into the ears of the young newlyweds who sat inside a white SUV at the edge of the yard. Together, with their realtor, the young couple walked up to the porch where Donald sat with his great grandchild. 

“Can I help y’all?” Donald asked of the three people who stood in his view blocking the sun. Donald couldn’t help but to notice how inappropriately dressed the three were. The woman wore a pair of black workout leggings, tennis shoes, and an oversized Whole Foods t-shirt. The man had on khaki shorts and a collared golf shirt. The realtor however was dressed loudly with a pastel yellow suit, matching shoes, tie, and pocket square, with a wide brim hat. His outfit seemed to fill the silent space between the couple and the mourners they were looking at, as if he was used to people commenting on his attire and was waiting for them to notice. The realtor instead reached into his suit jacket pocket and handed Donald a business card that seemed to have been placed there just for him. 

“I’m Flint Corbin, a realtor from Little Foot and I received uh notice that the bank would be foreclosing on this home in a few short weeks. I was hoping to speak to the owner and strike up some sort of win-win situation for this lovely couple here.”

Flint Corbin motioned to the young couple that stood only a few inches away from him. They were Adam and Sarah Donahue. The two had been married a year and were now interested in buying their first home and starting a family. Sarah had just learned she was five weeks pregnant and hadn’t told Adam yet. The couple was having a harder time than expected finding a large home within their budget. One of Adam’s friends from work suggested that if he was willing to commute a bit, there was an up and coming neighborhood on the outskirts of town that would be low cost but high value in the coming years. When Flint Corbin’s mailer arrived at their house the next day, they took it as a sign. It was a bright red flier with yellow letters that read “We buy and sell houses. Cash and quick! Get your first family home today!” Though neither Adam or Sarah knew much about Flint, after asking around they learned that he was a small-time realtor who always managed to get in good on the newest developments. The three of them were a perfect match. They were desperate and he was unashamed. The home that Nammy Samsom had passed down through her family was their 3rd showing that day. 

“If you hadn’t noticed Mr…” Donald stuttered and looked down at the business card in his hand with no interest in getting the name right but choosing politeness.

“Corbin… Flint Corbin,” Flint assisted Donald.

“Mr. Flint,” Donald began again. “If you hadn’t noticed, this is a bad time. This boy in my hands just buried his father and they buried theirs” he said pointing to the kids in the yard. “Come back another day.”

Before Flint could interject, the front door of the house swung open. Theresa stepped out onto the porch for the first time since morning. She squinted her eyes at the light even though the sun had hidden behind the clouds now. She had only learned of her son’s deaths six days ago and after identifying their bodies, had spent between then and now in the house on the living room couch wailing. She only left the house for the funeral which had been that morning and now she was stepping outside to take their ashes to the bush. Her eyes were puffy from releasing so many tears. Her body frailed from the lack of food and sleep. She wrapped her eldest son Wyland’s blanket around her shoulders and then tighter as if a cold breeze was passing over. Her eyes now adjusted, she fixed it on the white woman standing in her yard.

“Daddy, who this?” Those were the only words Theresa had uttered outside of her pity since last week. Donald shivered, startled by her voice fragile with misuse and stronger than he would have expected. She hadn’t had to clear her throat or soothe herself to speak. Before Donald could answer his daughter, Flint stepped onto the porch, stuck his hand in Theresa’s direction, and introduced himself and the Donahue’s again. 

“I’m so sorry to hear ‘bout your lost ma’am. We just came this way cause we heard about the status of your home and wanted to see if we could be of service”

“But we don’t have to do this today,” Sarah spoke from behind Flint’s handshake. 

“Unless you don’t mind…” Adam quickly added after his wife. 

“You’re already here now,” Theresa spoke again. “Get that baby out the sun and come on in this house.”

Theresa held the door open for Adam, Sarah, and Flint. One by one they walked past Donald who mumbled in disgust. Though looming with sadness- the house filled with black folks in black for a funeral that no one dared called a homegoing celebration- the beauty of the house made Sarah let out a gasp. Forgetting the occasion, she immediately made herself at home and began looking around, opening closets and staring at the ceiling. 

Theresa stay outside sprinkling the ashes of her three boys into the roots of the prickly-bry bush.

“Well, what do you think?” Adam asked his wife whose smile was already answering all his questions.  

A few moments later, Mr. Corbin, the Donahues, Donald, and Theresa stood on the porch ready to shake on the deal.

“We don’t need to do this today Theresa,” Donald pleaded to his daughter. “You might need to think on it and wait till after….” 

“Mightaswell, Daddy,” Theresa returned her father’s sadness. 

As she was always told she should, Theresa had life insurance on all her boys. When they were children, a white man came to the neighborhood selling it to everyone. She made every payment on time and figured it was beneficial in case of unexpected illness or if America ever had another war her boys would be drafted into. But she had never expected not to get a dime of the money. As soon as the insurance company learned of how the boy’s died, they deemed the situation “unsuitable for payment” leaving Theresa and the 6 kids her boys left behind in a debt she couldn’t climb out of. 

Theresa’s three son’s had died during an attempted robbery. That’s what the paper printed. They arrived to buy a gaming system from some college students but instead of paying with money, they tried to rob the boys. Everybody pulled guns and stray bullets hit a few windows and car and the head of a college white girl walking by. All her son’s were dead and only the college students were alive to tell it. But the block was saying otherwise. The block said Theresa’s son’s had gotten played because the boys planned to rob them all along. However, everybody including the white girl had the same story to tell. So there was no money left and the house was all that Theresa had to her name.

On that porch, the day of her son’s funeral, Theresa Samson sold the house that 4 generations of her family had lived in. The sale would clear up her debt and give her the opportunity to rent a small apartment for her father and the grandchildren. But Donald Samson would die only a few months later forcing Theresa and her 4 grandkids to move to Montgomery Wood projects. In all the grief, debt, and death, Theresa had sold her grandmother’s house, moved back to the projects, and worst, she would have to leave the Samson’s bush where her three sons were laid to rest.

Six months after the Donahue’s moved into Therea’s house, the outside had been repainted, the wooden floors stained, the porch repaired, and the shutters replaced. The biggest task of them all was being rectified today. Sarah sat on the newly crafted porch rubbing her now five months large belly, awaiting for the arrival of the landscaper. A few minutes later, a large white truck with a few painted flowers on the side and the words “Manny Gardening” pulled into the driveway of the home. Sarah waved them down and called to Adam to come outside. 

“As you can see, the grass doesn’t grow. The only thing is that bush there.” Sarah advised the gardeners pointing to Nammy’s prickly-bry.

“I tried clearing it myself but the roots seem to run deep,” Adam interjected. 

The landscapers begin their work immediately. They were suggested to the Donahue’s by Flint Corbin and we’re getting a great price to lay grass, remove the bushes, and plant flowers. Within hours, there was a flower bed, mulch, and green lush grass covering the entire yard. 

“Ma’am?” one of the landscapers knocked on the front door and was greeted by Sarah who was busily deciding on nursery colors. “We were wondering what you want us to do about the bush. We can shape it up but they grow pretty wild and fast so you’d need to maintain it.”

“Oh, you know what, can you just pull it up? I don’t really care for that bush anyway. It blocks out the sun.”

“You sure ma’am? These are kinda rare and would be expensive to buy. Maybe we can replant it?.”

Sarah nodded, confirming that she wanted the bush gone. 

Thirty minutes later, the landscapers had removed the prickly-bry and put the remains on the back of the truck. In its place, they planted grass as Sarah wanted. The landscapers left and the Donahue’s admired a job well done.

The next day, when Adam went outside to enjoy coffee on his freshly manicured lawn, it had been completely dug up. The grass was patchy and the plants were blown away. He and Sarah stared at the empty hole in their yard wondering how they had slept during the storm that obviously swept through in the night. Within minutes, Sarah was on the phone with the landscapers requesting they come back to repair the work she accused them of not securing properly the first time. .

“So are they coming to fix it?” Adam asked his wife after she hung up the phone but not yet noticing the pale look on her face.

“No….” She responded without eye contact.

“No? They have to.” Adam retorted, still ignoring his wife’s sadness. They were supposed to give us a new secured lawn” 

“They can’t…” Sarah forced from her mouth through shallow breathing finally forcing her husband to take notice of the change in her mood. “They’re dead.”

“What are you talking about, Sarah?” Adam stated plainly more confused by Sarah’s words than concerned.

“They uh… They got robbed on the way out of town. Someone shot them.”

“For flowers?” Adam responded.

“No.” Sarah answered him. “They didn’t take the flowers or the grass. They only took the bush. Killed both landscapers but the only plant missing was that ugly bush from our yard.”

“I guess it was more valuable than we realized.” Adam snorted at his wife before going back to his day.

Adam didn’t think much of the connection between the bush and their home but Sarah couldn’t rest. Even after the Detectives came and went, assuring The Donahue’s that the entire incident was random and not targeted, Sarah found herself awake at nights wondering about repairing her new house.

Two days later, the landscaping company returned. They had agreed to look at the yard and assess the damages. Sarah watched as the three men gathered up all the dead grass, cleared out the debris, and removed all the broken flowers from the yard. The men went back and forth to their trucks and Sarah remained, watching as the yard took form and bloomed again. The wind blew and the air chilled, her eyes averted just for a moment to avoid dust in them. When she opened them, Sarah blinked repeatedly in amazement as what appeared to be the prickly-bry bush springing up in the middle of the yard. As if by magic, the grass that wouldn’t grow now flourished on its own, circling and spiraling around the bush. Within seconds what would normally take a season grew wildly before her. The leaves curled and spread like butter on toast. The roots pushed deep as if an old settled matriarch reclaiming its seat. The bush stretched and appeared to be yawning and exhaling. Sarah wanted to tell her husband what was happening but there was no way to prove what she was seeing. As if time had frozen, she watched the yard transform without the help of the landscapers. But what Sarah didn’t see is what was most intriguing. The spirit of three young men about mid 20’s in age walked out from the bush, through the cold chill, pass Sarah’s averted eyes, and into the Donahue’s house.

The lives of Sarah and Adam Donahue continued without incident. Sarah was now only a few days away from giving birth and Adam was just about finished with the baby’s nursery. Sarah sat in the rocking chair that Adam had just unpacked while he gathered up the cardboard and packaging from the boxes. 

“I’m going to run this to the dumpster, and then I’ll make some sandwiches for lunch.” Adam said to his wife before leaving the room. 

Sarah settled into the chair, humming to herself and staring at the beautiful nursery that her husband had crafted from her ideas. Much like the grass and the bushes that still decorated the front yard, she designed a forest themed nursery complete with fake plants in the corners, stuffed baby animals on shelves, and a river scene painted along the walls wrapping the whole room. Admiring her handiwork, she fell asleep. 

Sarah was awoken by the sound of rustling leaves being tossed around by the wind. Still groggy from sleep, her eyes adjusted to see the outline of three men standing on the grass in the scene painted on the wall. Startled, she rubbed her eyes. Though she had only been asleep for moments, the whole house had fallen dark. Looking again, the three men stood staring and swaying with the wind. The sound of the rustling leaves had gotten louder in the room and the wind blew cold on her face. Sarah couldn’t look away. They stared, as if one set of eyes locked onto hers. Holding her stomach with one hand and leaning her body back against the chair, she rubbed her eyes once more but the men remained. Sarah attempted to scream as the men began to move toward her but her mouth was silenced by a hand swiftly from behind cupping her mouth. It pulled her backwards slamming the rocking chair into the wall causing her to hit her head and pass out.

Adam returned a few moments later. His wife was sleeping in the chair, the sun shining on her face, and her hands holding her stomach.

Later that night at the dinner table, Sarah decided to tell Adam about her dream.

“Something has been feeling off Adam,” she started “Before now, it just felt uneasy but the closer I get to the delivery, the more I just feel…”

“Feel what?” Adam asked, both perplexed and annoyed with his wife.

“I don’t know… it just feels like we’re not alone.”

Adam couldn’t help but laugh at his wife. He noticed that Sarah had been jumping for weeks. At random, she’d drop an item or jolt at a shadow. He knew she’d been staying up at night but assumed she was just nesting. Now she was telling him that she felt something unnatural happening in their home. Adam was both unconvinced and unbothered by Sarah’s fears but did not want to upset her so he remained verbally non-opinionated. He agreed that they could sleep with the lights on but only for one night. But only one night was all that was needed as the next day, Sarah went into labor and 13 hours later, gave birth to a baby boy.

---

The Donahue’s home was the first of many to be sold from under Montgomery Woods black residence. By the time Daniel Donahue was ready for high school, the entire neighborhood had been developed into something that looked nothing like the Mount Go the Sampson’s knew. There were only affluent families now and the only familiarity of the area were the rundown apartments at the edge of the city. Flint Corbin had sold every house in the area and after transitioning into politics, he had made “Cleaning Up Mount Go” his mission. First, the street names had all been changed. They were once the names of black activists and community leaders but to represent a “more diverse community” the names had been changed to white athletes and war heros. They kept MLK Blvd and named one for an Indian painter. Next, the corner stores were replaced with coffee shops and boutiques. Those stores came with a ready made staff so they created no jobs and prices more expensive than a low income neighborhood could afford. Then one day, the line of sight that connected Montgomery Woods to the newly named Flint Bry Community was blocked by dozens of trees planted just behind the cinder block walls. With the bus stops rerouted and no connecting streets, the one community became two. They no longer saw them and them no longer saw they. 

Since Daniel’s birth, Sarah had let go of her premonitions and worried about little. As Adam had told her, they were only dreams fueled by the changing hormone’s accompanying her pregnancy. She had given birth two more times since that incident and though the same dream plagued her each time, they always stopped once she gave birth. Her days were filled with raising her three sons and being a good wife to Adam. He had long since left his job and became Flint Corbins full time partner. She was a housewife and was content with taking care of the children, keeping home, and tending to her garden. 

One morning, after Adam had gone to work and the boys to school, Sarah heard a knock on the door while doing dishes. Without haste, she answered. It didn’t take long for Sarah to recognize the person before her. As if the 16 years between them had changed little, Sarah Donanhue and Theresa Samson were face to face again, this time standing in the opposite spots they had stood in all those years ago. 

“Theresa… Sampson?” 

Theresa’s face was riddled with hardship. Her eyes sunken, her skin frail, and her tiny frame seemed impossibly smaller. She wore an oversized and tattered dress suit. She looked as though she had put effort into looking her best but fell short.

“I was on my way out and wanted to stop by and see my house.” Theresa spoke.

Seeing that she looked exhausted, Sarah invited Theresa inside. 

“How does your old house look? We never left as you can see, I just loved it too much. We did make a lot of additions to accommodate the family such as the build-on’ in the back and  a garage” Sarah asked while handing Theresa a glass of water.

“Like as if it was never my house,” Theresa answered Sarah softly, putting down the glass without taking a drink. 

Though Sarah aged as if life was treating her well, Theresa looked like more than double the time had passed. Sarah remembered being intimidated by the tall brown women who’s frame had blocked out the sun but now, she felt like she was sitting with an elder. 

Ignoring Theresa’s disposition, Sarah quickly asked. “So what brings you by, Theresa?”

Theresa shifted in her seat a bit expressing her discomfort. 

“I see you had boys.” she started.

“Yeah, I do. And you guessed it all them years ago, didn’t you?” Sarah beamed thinking of her sons and all the happiness she derived from them.

Theresa chuckled to herself. “Yes, boys are special and you got three of them. Just like me”

Sarah’s face frowned thinking of the comparison between her sons and Theresa’s. 

 “So what brings you by?” Sarah continued.

“I wanted to see the place I was last happy at because… death is coming.”

Sarah froze. Though she and Theresa hadn’t seen each other since that day on the porch, Sarah felt guilt well up inside her. She often told the story of the day she purchased her house and bragged about the inexpensive price in the urban neighborhood. At first, she would leave out the details about Theresa and her sons but as time passed, the story became less about the purchase and more about the mourning black woman who sold her house in grief. Now, she felt her ears ringing hot as if Theresa could hear every word. 

Theresa continued “ The doctor gave me about 2 weeks. I guess I just never got right after my boys gone. My grandchildren  left too as soon as they could. I didn’t have nothing to give them anyway. I don’t want to worry them about my dying. I wanna do it in peace and I want to do it here in the same house my grandma, my momma, and my great grandma died in.”

Sarah was surprised by Theresa’s request but didn’t need much convincing. She and Theresa made an arrangement. Theresa would help around the house in exchange for a cot in the garage. And when she died, it would be up to Sarah to contact the family and ensure the arrangement was carried out. 

For the next few weeks, Sarah and Theresa grew closer. Theresa, though more frail by the day, would cook and clean and help Sarah with the boys. Adam however, hated Theresa’s being there and even more so, that his wife would expose their children to a sick old woman. Three months had passed and Theresa was very much still alive and living with the Donahues.

“When is she gonna leave?” Adam asked his wife late in bed one night. 

“Do you mean when is she gonna die?” Sarah quipped at her husband.

“What if she dies and the boys find her?” Adam had asked this question before.

“That won’t happen,” Sarah assured Adam, “We have a plan. If she doesn’t come out of her room by 10AM each day, I’m going to go in and check. If I find her dead, I take the boys to get ice cream and leave the garage door open for the coroner. Anyway, the boys know not to go into the garage, ever. 

“I’m just not comfortable in my own home with her here, Sarah. I know her whole family died here but her boys were thugs and murderers and who knows what else. What if she is just trying to get back at us for taking her house. Remember how she predicted you were pregnant without you even knowing? What if she’s into voodoo? Maybe that explains what you were experiencing all those years ago!”

Sarah grunted her teeth at Adam in anger, stomping out of the room. She hadn’t much thought about those years but she also knew that Theresa being back in the house had raised those feelings again. Theresa could often be heard talking in the garage by herself. It didn’t concern Sarah much but sometimes, she could have sworn she heard someone else talking too.

The next morning, at 10am on the dot, Theresa joined the Donahues at the breakfast table. The boys greeted her as they did most mornings with hugs and questions. Theresa always had wonderful tales of fantasy to tell the boys. “Last night, I was on a boat. It was a long boat ride all the way from Africa to America. I was in chains but I broke free. And then I jumped into the ocean.” 

Theresa and the Donahue boys had gotten close. When Sarah was running errands, they’d come to the garage with Theresa who would tell them about her family history, teach them songs, and play games. Mostly, she gave them secrets that were just among them. Theresa told the boys she knew exactly the day death was coming and for them not to be afraid. They kept her secrets close. 

After breakfast, Theresa cleaned up the kitchen and went out on the front porch to relax in the sun. Shortly after, Adam followed her outside.  

“Theresa,” he said from behind her, “I think we need to talk about your plan.”

Theresa was none the wiser about how Adam felt about her. They barely spoke and she could only imagine how he spoke about her when she was not around. 

“My plan Adam,” she responded without turning around, “is to greet death when she come. Soon.”

Adam stood in front of Theresa, blocking out the sun and with his back toward the prickly-bry. She could see his cold blue eyes now as clear as she could see the sky behind him.

“Theresa, it’s time for you to leave. It’s been 3 months and you were only supposed to be here 2 weeks. I appreciate all your help but I think we’ve done enough for you.”

“Enough?” Theresa leaned forward elongating her posture to meet Adam’s authority, “You have done nothing for me. I did for you. I gave you my home and now, I give you the remaining days of this life cooking your meals and cleaning behind your ass. I can’t die in peace because you removed the bodies of my sons and planted fake grass. But I will get back everything you took from me Adam. You are no first man but you will be the last.”

Theresa stood eye to eye with Adam. “But Sarah, she is not. She will have to choose and she will choose me.”

Theresa leaned back into her rest while the haze that had covered Adam’s ear faded back into the bush. “Okay Theresa, we agree then. You’re gone by Friday.”

Later that night, after Adam and the boys were sleeping, Sarah snuck out of bed to speak to Theresa. Before she could get to the garage, she saw a soft glow emanating from the living room. Turning the corner, expecting to see Theresa watching tv or the boys having snuck out of bed, Sarah saw the familiar glow of 3 men standing in the middle of the room. They were the same she had seen time and time again during her pregnancy but now, they looked like actual living people in her living room. They were dressed in old street wear with durags on their heads and guns in their hands. Their eyes met Sarah’s and immediately, she knew she was not looking at living men. In a panic, she raced back down the hall into her bedroom where Adam still slept. She shook him violently, waking him and whispering. 

“Adam, it is them. The spirits, it’s Theresa’s boys. I knew it, it’s her boys.” Adam sat up in bed in a state of confusion along how wife to pull him from their bedroom and down the hall/

“There are no ghosts in our damn house Sarah.” 

However, Adam’s denial was met with horror when he followed Sarah to the living room to find a scene more frightening than anything his wife had described.. On the couch, his three sons sat in the laps of the dead Samson sons. They were telling them stories, just like Theresa had done. The children hadn’t noticed their father come in and simply clung to the three spirits as if they didn’t notice any difference between their being alive and the person’s they spoke with, not. Theresa stood in the room now too with her back facing Sarah and Adam.

Sarah reached for her boys but was kept back by the guns pointed in their direction, hoovering and jolting toward them as if suspended by air.

“Theresa?” Sarah beged “What are you doing? Let my boys go.They are just children.”

“They are,” Theresa responded, not turning towards the Donahues, “But the sins of the father must be paid.” 

“He’s committed no sin,” Sarah continued to plead with Theresa.

“Tell her,” Theresa screamed, turning her attention to Adam. “Tell her what you did!”

Sarah turned to see her husband’s face red and sweating, 

“What did you do Adam?” Sarah asked. 

Adam shook his face violently as the unspoken horrors of his actions replayed in his mind. In unison, Sarah’s son’s began to tell the story they had heard hundreds of times.  

“It was Flint’s idea. He said there were houses but sometimes the owner’s needed persuading. And you wanted a house so bad that I couldn’t afford. So we picked one and we made a plan. They weren’t supposed to get killed though, just arrested for armed robbery. But when they did die, it was so easy to call in a few favors that the house was practically ours even before the funeral ended.” 

Adam could see what his boys were saying. The Samson house late at night, over 16 years ago. He heard himself on the phone with Theresa’s insurance company. He felt his hand sign the deal that would secure him the house. He heard the gunshots that killed Theresa Samson’s boys. Everything he felt and heard, the boys said aloud for Sarah to hear with such horrible terror in their voice, Sarah was forced to her knees from the growl of their truths. 

“What did you do?” Sarah screamed at Adam now fully aware that everything she had attributed Theresa with giving to her had been stolen for her by her own husband’s hands. 

“I’m so sorry Theresa,” Sarah began sobbing into the floorboard, “I’m so sorry. Here, you can have it back. The house, I’ll give it back.”

Finally, Theresa turned and made eye contact with Sarah. Adam reached for his wife’s arm to pull her from the floor, afraid of what Theresa would do. Sarah pulled her hand away, reached for Theresa’s hand begging her once again to give her something that wasn’t hers to have.  

As the sun rose, the woman and her three boys stood on the front porch of their home in Montgomery Woods. Though the air was warm, she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders tighter to her body. The boys sat by her feet, dipping every few seconds into the sun to feel its warmth on their skin.. she watched as the grass on the front yard withered away to dusk and the prickly bry Nammy Samson had planted, now bloomed with flowers. She looked out into the community that once was rich with story and plagued with incidents. This wasn’t her neighborhood anymore but it was her house again. And this time, no one would take it from her.