Every Time a Rainbow Dies Read Online Free PDF

have a friend holding my spot. They can’t hold it forever, you know.”
    He was comfortable where he was. He didn’t want to face her, let alone answer.
    â€œYa hear me, Thulani?”
    â€œIt’s too crazy,” he said.
    All summer long Shakira had sewn pillows and dolls like those from Jamaica, Trinidad, Barbados, and the Dominican Republic to sell for ten dollars apiece. She called it extra income, but Thulani knew it was busy-work while she was housebound. Even Truman did not like the idea of her fighting among the crowd, but she seemed determined to be in the midst of the parade.
    Thulani would have been quicker about helping her if it weren’t for her attitude. It was the way that she proclaimed herself woman of his mother’s house that made him slow to move. It was her expectation that he should come when she called or answer every question she put to him. She was his brother’s wife, but nothing to him.
    â€œI’ll tell Truman.”
    Still no reply. As far as he was concerned, she could stand there all she wanted. Threaten. Whine. Stomp. Go into labor, for all he cared. He wasn’t going.
    â€œFine,” she yelled up. “Mtakit mdamnself!”
    He threw a pebble that hit the TV antenna. That was all he needed—for Shakira to tell Truman how she struggled down flights of stairs with her table, then fought through the crowds.
    Â 
    If Truman had married Shakira to take care of things when Mommy left, it was not necessary. Mommy had taught Thulani everything. He could steam doctorfish, make oxtail stew and dumplings. He could wash clothes to perfection and take needle and thread to any mending job.
    Shakira, on the other hand, was hardly a cook, although Truman ate with gusto everything she burned. She was a “neatener,” not a scrubber like Mommy. If Thulani wanted the bathroom and kitchen sparklingclean, he had to do that himself.
    In spite of the fact that Shakira seemed good for only reading and crowing, Mommy said she was perfect for Truman. When it was clear that they would marry, Mommy gave Truman her emerald ring from Daddy to offer as an engagement ring. To Shakira she turned over hand-sewn baby clothes, recipes, and stories that she had shared only with Thulani.
    After almost three years Thulani had no choice but to accept that Truman loved Shakira. He had long given up complaining that Shakira overstepped her boundaries or that her cooking and housekeeping were so-so. Truman took her side in every matter. It was just easier for Thulani to stay on the roof with his birds.
    Â 
    He found Shakira loading her wagon with dolls when he came inside. She smiled but didn’t bother to look at him. As he folded the legs of the card table, she could not let the opportunity pass and said, “You know what’s good.”
    Â 
    The parade was everything he had seen from the roof, except instead of being above the madness, he was surrounded by it. Sheer madness. He and Shakira were lucky to have a spot along the parkway to pitch the card table. There were twice as many vendors as last year.Stands with codfish cakes, coconut drinks, dolls, flags, and bootleg tapes lined the parade route. The streets were packed with parade-goers—dancing, milling, pushing, and buying.
    Though he didn’t want to be with her in all the chaos, he could not help but marvel at his sister-in-law. Determined to sell every doll and pillow, she was hardly meek about flagging down potential buyers. While she sold, Thulani fetched mountain springwater—“not distilled, not mineral”—and plates with samples from every other stand. When Shakira was low on change, Thulani went from table to table to break twenties. When she went to the portable toilets, he watched her table. As long as there was no lull, he didn’t mind being there.
    It became unbearable when after three hours only two dolls remained and passersby sped past Shakira’s table. With no