Deaths Excellent Vacation

that’s gathering dust in your college savings account . . . Get it before that sucker crashes and I have to go down there and hurt somebody—and you tell me how much you took out to go to New Orleans. I’ma send you a replacement check that you can cash when you get back. That’s the logistics—but I want you to promise me that when you come back, you’ll register for college, at least the local community college, for the fall semester.”
    “But, I—”
    “Uh-uh, Miss Thang. I’ve been listening to excuses for the last four years. You take your pretty little behind down there and register, since you’re jobless and all now. Go to school!”
    “But how am I gonna keep the lights on and pay for food, Raph? Be serious.”
    “You get you some student aid or whatever, and you let me worry about lights and food—you can work on campus; you’re below the poverty line. Anyway, that’s condition one . . . My help comes with love-strings attached. You’re too smart and got too much going for you to be wasting time like this,” he added with emphasis.
    Jessica leaned against the refrigerator and smiled. “Okay. I’ll go to school, but I’ll be looking for a job.”
    “Fine by me, drive yourself crazy, if you wanna, but the registering for classes in September is not up for negotiation, girlfriend.”
    She closed her eyes and tried to modulate the amusement in her voice. She loved it when her big brother fussed at her . . . It was pure love that reminded her of her mother’s tough-love tactics.
    “Any more conditions?” Jessica asked, then took a slow sip of her lemonade.
    “No, just the one I’ve been on you about for too long. I want you to get laid while you’re in the Big Easy; just be sure to use a condom—don’t need no babies or STD drama while you’re trying to get an education.”
    Jessica spit out her lemonade and began coughing.
    “That’s right, I said it,” Raphael said, now laughing. “Tell the truth and shame the devil. I may not be as good as you and Momma on the second sight, but I ain’t blind. When’s the last time you got some, girl?”
    “Why you all up in my business, Raphael!” Jessica squeaked. “I don’t do that to you.”
    “Huh . . . Oh, so now I’m Raphael , not Raph. Uhmmm- hmmm . . . and yes you do do that to me. See, I have to use words; you just bust into my room and look around with your third eye. Same difference.”
    “I do not!” Jessica shouted, laughing. Her face burned, and she pushed away from the refrigerator and began walking through the trailer.
    “Yes, you do—don’t lie. But we ain’t talking about me; we happen to be talking about you. Last boyfriend I remember was in high school, senior prom. Then a few fly-by-night dates, and I could tell you didn’t give any of those half-thug-wannabe knuckleheads any. Then you even stopped going to the clubs looking . . . Last I heard you’d stopped going to church, too, like Momma—most of them in there was either already married, old, or would like me better, tell the truth.”
    “You ain’t never lied,” she said, stopping by her favorite chair and flopping down in it.
    “I want you to enjoy life, boo,” Raphael said in a gentler tone.
    “I’m doing okay.”
    “No, you’re not,” he said softly.
    Jessica held the phone close to her ear and swallowed hard.
    “You want what we all want . . . a prince.” He let out a long breath and then allowed his voice to dip down low. “That sure ain’t what I dragged home with me last night . . . but in a tight spot, he’ll do.”
    She chuckled sadly and just shook her head.
    “But you want the full package—the three Hs . . . somebody who’s gonna be honest, honorable, and hetero . . .”
    “Yeah, I do,” she murmured, allowing her shoulders to sag.
    “You don’t want to give it away and then find out he lied . . . or some other mess, right?”
    Jessica just nodded and released a sad sigh.
    “But since you see so much . . .”
    “I see the drama coming before they open their mouths.” She sprawled out in the chair with her eyes closed, needing to hear her brother’s comforting wisdom. “The older I get, Raph, the more I can see—the more I can see in advance, the lonelier it is.”
    “That’s why you need to get out of Port Arthur. Ain’t nobody there for you . . . That’s why I had to leave.”
    “But I don’t know if I can do the third thing you asked me to do while just on a weekend, you know?”
    “I love you, too,