About to Have a Rumble in the Jungle_. He wasn't alone. "In here," he heard. Kent's head jerked toward the door. "How long have you been in there?" Grace shook her head. "Not long, Mommy. Just a minute." Mommy? Kent knew who she was talking about. It had to be Mama. It had to be. The room was filled with her perfume. Mama was a beautiful woman. She was his. The woman who gave him life. She had given him love. He loved her. He loved the mother he never had. The baby. The baby wanted to be held by a woman. It was natural. A baby should be held by a woman. There would be no more shame in him. There was no more shame in him if the baby was his. "Oh, my baby." Grace put her hand to her mouth. "I need to tell Mama about this." She rushed toward the doorway, but Kent caught her and pushed her back down on the bed. He pulled her hair back from her neck and kissed her. He'd wanted to kiss her forever, even before the sickness in his head. But now his desire for her was stronger than it had ever been. He kissed her. Over and over. He wanted to drink her in. He kissed her neck. He kissed the top of her breasts. He felt her breasts press against his face. He heard her moan. He licked and kissed and sucked on her breasts. Grace felt like she was losing her mind. "Kent. Kent!" she said. "You are a good man. I love you." Kent pulled back and looked into her face. "No, baby," he said. "No, you don't." A dark shadow passed across Grace's face. She reached for the door. "I have to get out of here," she said. "I have to go help Mama." She got up, walked toward the door, and took a deep breath before opening it. He was behind her. She opened the door and he saw it for the first time. The blood on her nightgown, the torn shirt, the tears, the dark pools of blood on the floor. "Oh, baby," he said. "What happened?" Grace looked at him. "Kent," she said, "I need you to stay right here." Grace bolted out the door. She heard him calling her name. She turned her head and saw him coming down the stairs. "Mommy," she yelled. "Mommy!" Grace turned left down the hallway and ran to her mother's room. Kent ran after her, his feet pounding. When Grace saw the door open, she ran inside and slid to the floor. Aunt Ruth was standing in front of her mother. Her mother was gone. There was blood everywhere. "Mommy!" Aunt Ruth was holding a pistol. Grace screamed. "Aunt Ruth! Aunt Ruth, please, no!" Her mother's bedroom was empty. There was nothing in the drawers. She walked into the kitchen, screaming, "Aunt Ruth, where is she? Where is she?" Aunt Ruth looked at her. "Gracie, baby, you just stay put." "Where is she, Aunt Ruth? Where did she go? Where is she?" Aunt Ruth grabbed Grace by the arm and pushed her toward the living room. "I said to stay in this room, baby. Not to leave." Grace struggled against her aunt. She wanted to scream. Her throat was raw with screaming. There was no sound coming out. Her mother was in the living room. Where was she? There were so many pieces of her. "Aunt Ruth, where is she?" "Baby, I said to stay in the room. Go on in there and sit down. I'll take care of it." Her aunt pushed her into the living room. "Just sit there and don't say anything." The living room had been turned upside down. Everything was moved away from the wall. Clothes, books, CDs, picture frames were scattered across the floor. The carpet had been cut, and furniture and boxes and bags were sitting in piles. Grace began to cry. Her mother had moved everything around. This wasn't her mother's room. Her mother had cleaned up her room. She didn't know what it was like here in her mother's house. Why had she put everything away? How could her mother live in a room like this? Grace could hear her aunt talking to someone. The words kept bouncing in her mind, but she couldn't hear them. She went back to the bedroom. Her aunt's bedroom was messed up, too. Everything was out of place. It didn't look like a woman's bedroom. It looked like the way a boy's room would be. No, her aunt's room. Her mother's room. She had no idea how to get it back the way it was. Her mother was in here somewhere, lying hurt in some way. But why? Why wasn't Aunt Ruth taking care of her? Her aunt had a gun. She could have shot her mother. Grace went back to the living room. It was the same way everywhere. Everywhere she went there was more stuff than she remembered. Her aunt was still talking, still moving things around. She looked up. Kent was standing in the doorway, staring at her. There were more bloodstains on his shirt than she'd ever seen on it. He was crying. "Kent!" she yelled. "What's wrong with her? What happened? What happened?" Kent didn't say a word. He was moving his hands around as if he were trying to understand what was going on. He was scared. "Aunt Ruth. What is wrong with her?" Kent looked up and pointed at the hallway. "Aunt Ruth's hurt." Grace ran down the hall toward Kent's room. Her aunt was there, lying facedown on the floor. She had been shot. She'd been shot in the back. She was holding her left hand up. There was blood everywhere. "Aunt Ruth! You're hurt. You're hurt." "Gracie," Aunt Ruth called out to her. She turned her body toward Grace and sat up. Her dress was red with blood. "What happened?" "I don't know. Where is she?" Aunt Ruth turned around, using the wall to support herself. She looked like she was in terrible pain. She got up and looked down the hall at her sister. "Mommy!" Grace ran down the hall. "Mommy! Mommy! What happened?" Kent followed behind her. Ruth pointed to Grace's body. "She's not your sister. She's dead." "No, Mama," Grace pleaded. "Mommy, no!" Kent kneeled down beside Ruth. "What happened to her?" "She tried to kill me." Grace stood over her mother's body. "How did she do it?" "She stabbed me with a knife." "How many times?" Kent said. "She stabbed you more than once?" "She stabbed me over twenty times." Ruth was in more pain than she was letting on. "Where are my parents?" Grace said. "Where is my daddy?" "He's dead," Aunt Ruth said. "Your momma is dead." Grace leaned down and touched her mother's hair. "Mommy! Oh, God, Mommy!" Aunt Ruth pulled Grace away from her mother. "Don't touch her." Grace resisted. "Let me touch her." Ruth pushed her back again. "Don't touch her. She's dead. Your mother is dead. Your father is dead. And you are never going to see me again." Ruth was almost hysterical now. Her face had turned red from the wound in her back. "Now sit down and shut up. I don't have time to deal with you. I have to find Daddy and Mama." Grace was speechless. She sat down next to Aunt Ruth. Ruth rubbed her forehead. "Mommy, what are you doing? Why did you go after Ruth like that?" Aunt Ruth looked back at the hallway. The hallway had been wrecked. "I didn't mean to hurt her, baby. She was getting away. She was going to try and hurt you, so I had to stop her." "Stop her? Did she try to hurt me?" Ruth got up on her knees. "She tried to kill you." Grace knew it was a lie. "Why would she try to kill me?" Aunt Ruth's eyes were wild with pain. "Because she wants you." "I'm not a man." Grace's voice broke. She looked at Ruth as if she were a ghost. "I'm not a man," she said again. "No," Ruth said, "you're not. And you never will be." Grace wiped her eyes