“Yeah, here comes Orphan Annie,” Melanie teased.
Sheryl’s cheek smart from the jibe, but she held herself in check. Instead she countered with a question about school.
“I’m going to Florida for college. Where are you headed Melanie?”
“If I’ve gotta live in Florida, it won’t be for no school, ya heard? After graduation I’m through with this school stuff. I’m gonna make me some money. It’ll be all about the money for me,” Melanie said.
“Melanie’s right. School’s helped me enough already. I think I’ve learned how to count my money,” Candace smiled.
“I agree with them. You’re wrong Orphan Annie,” Claire surmised. “But it’s good that you’re going to college in Florida. Maybe you might find a relative or someone for you.”
That night, Sheryl had difficulty sleeping in her hotel room and couldn’t wait for the morning. When it came, she hurried through showering. After slipping into the same dark skirt outfit, Sheryl spent a lot of time at the make-up stand trying to cover the dark circles around her eyes. She wanted to face Mimmy one more time. Stopping at a café for breakfast, Sheryl couldn’t keep her mind off Mimmy. During her second cup of coffee, she read about the ordeal in a local daily newspaper.
Mourners gathered outside a funeral home in order to get a glimpse of the detective whose bullets caused the deaths of her adopted sisters. “I’ve cut all ties to my former adopted daughter, Sheryl Street, before she killed my babies…’” Mimmy Osorio, the woman who raised Sheryl and her sisters Candace and Claire Osorio, said after learning that her daughters were killed in a fiery stand-off with police in South Florida. The girls, both twenty-three years old, were accused of a wave of shoplifting and were being sought by the NYPD for the murders of key witnesses involved in the case against them. Detective Shirley Street headed a team of investigators that included members of the NYPD larceny squad and detectives from the Dade County in Miami. For over a year authorities had been searching for the sisters who grew up in Washington Heights and were local high school basketball and volleyball stars. Somewhere along the line their lives took a whirl into the land of crime. The deaths of the two women have left questions. Detective Street has known the victims since she was eight years old. The victims were…
Shaking her head, Sheryl couldn’t read anymore. She left the tearstained daily on the breakfast table. Sheryl put on her shades and headed to the parking lot. She turned the radio on and quickly changed the station from a newscast. The light, melodic jazz calmed her nerves and cleared the frown she wore.
Sheryl gazed unexcitedly out the window, driving back across the George Washington and riding along 178th Street. Approaching the old neighborhood, she eased her foot up off the gas pedal. Her mind raced to recollect all the memories that quickly fell back into place.
Mimmy had tried to provide the best for all the girls, and was mostly out of the home. She worked as a nurse’s aide in a Jewish hospital in Staten Island. Mimmy used to travel back and forth from Staten Island to Manhattan to give her daughters the best. They were her only children and even though the marriage ended in disaster. Her husband and father of her girls, walked out with a younger woman. Mimmy worked hard to help the girls forget him. She went out of her way for the young Candace and Claire.
They would get anything they wanted and Mimmy always obliged. A month after Sheryl was residing with them they wanted a new volleyball set for all their friends to play with at the park. The sisters were fourteen and hung out with older friends in front of the building. Mimmy clearly didn’t like their friends but she went out of her way to run to the store and get them the set.
“I told you she…” Candace started, but Claire cut her off.
“But Mimmy, you said you were gonna…”
As soon as Claire started, Mimmy reached into her bag and pulled out a ball. The girls jumped and screamed, clearly excited by the sight of the volleyball and net. Jacque was a good friend and would be in the midst of everything, came running from next door.
“Wha’ happened?”
“Oh she got it, the whole set,” Claire cheered.
“Mimmy, you’re the best,” said both girls in unison and Jacque started rejoicing with them.
“Now, we could go to the park, huh Mimmy?” Candace asked.
“You can. Please be careful. And please come back before it gets too dark.”
“Let me go with y’all. Y’all two gonna need some protection,” Jacque said.
“Not from no sissy…” Claire said.
“C’mon girls, play nice…” Mimmy said.
“It’s okay Mimmy, Jacque can handle himself,” Jacque said, his hands on his hips.
“You need to stop!” Candace said, waving her hand.
“You can play with orphaned Annie over there,” said Claire, pointing at Sheryl.
“Since our uncle left, she’s been acting funny you know? Retarded…”
They both giggled and ran off. Mimmy called out after them.
“Claire, Candace, listen up both of you; I spent my last dollar buying that damn ball. I don’t wanna hear about y’all losing it. Y’all understand?”
“Yes Mimmy,” the sisters responded in unison.
“Lord, I have spoiled them rotten. What can I say, they’re mine,” Mimmy smiled. “Sheryl, please, you and Jacque follow my girls and watch out for them. Make sure nothing happens to them. I’m gonna see what’s inside the fridge for dinner.”
Jacque stared at Sheryl and they both nodded. Candace and Claire always have their way. They hurried to play with their new volleyball.
“We know the perfect spot,” Candace said, pointing to an area in the park with trees that had low hanging branches.
Claire was the oldest by two years and the leader of the pack. Candace always stuck with her sister through thick and thin. They were tall and beautiful and not only went everywhere together, but the sisters also did everything together.
When they arrived at River Bank Park, it was crowded. A group of young white kids picnicking grudgingly watched Claire and Candace setting up the volleyball net. Snickers and sneers were thrown in the players’ direction. Sheryl and Jacque played on one side while Claire and Candace teamed up. Sheryl and Jacque played hard but the sisters were very tall at an early age, agile and athletic.
The games got more intense and Jacque struck first, sending the ball out of bounds one too many times in the midst of the picnickers. The girls chased the ball another time when Candace spiked it too hard. One of the kids standing around grabbed the ball and threw it in the direction of another member of the group.
“Give it back!” Claire demanded, walking toward the group.
“Why y’all want to mess around?” Candace asked excitedly.
“Hold up, Candace. Wait a minute. You know your temper, girl?” Jacque was shouting running after the girls as he and Sheryl followed, trying to keep the peace.
“Yeah, and if I don’t, what?” the