The Devil's Beating His Wife by Siobhán Béabhar

muscles. No welcoming smile or hint of civility.
    "Did you hear that?" Rodney asked Ms. Betty.
    Ms. Betty cackled, rocking back in her seat. Her right eye was a milky color, leaving her partially blind. "This cracker's 'bout to get his head bust in."
    "They'll probably hang Della from that same tree that they hung her boy from."
    "You think they'll set her body on fire like they did him?"
    Rodney slapped his thigh and chuckled hoarsely. Pulling out his kerchief, he wiped his mouth and shook his head. "That po' nigga. I don't think that I'll ever get the smell of his burnt body out of my nose. I can't even have a fire burning in my house cuz it brings back such awful thoughts."
    Closing her eyes tightly, Ms. Betty raised her hands in the air and beckoned the Lord. "Lord have mercy on that po' chile's soul. And they called it a suicide. How do you hang yourself dead then set yourself on fire?" She gazed down at me, her one good eye drilling a hole through my forehead.
    Once again, words were sticking to my tongue. I licked my lips and forced my mouth to move. "Ms. Della?"
    Her head whipped around. She didn't look at me; instead, her eyes focused on a spot near my feet. She set the broom on the wall near the door. Turning away, she entered the store and slammed the door behind her.
    I climbed the steps, reached out, and grabbed the door handle. A cane slammed against the door, shutting it.
    "Boy, didn't they teach you how to read?" asked Ms. Betty. She pointed to a sign on the door that read "No Whites allowed." Since the night that boy died, the coloreds had stayed on their side of town while the whites remained on theirs. It had remained like that for the past two and a half years until my damn foolish self broke the rules by venturing into the Twiggs County side of Appleton.
    Glaring down at the meddling crone, I grabbed the handle, pulled the door open, and stepped inside. The store was small, but neat and tidy, with two aisles full of dried goods and cans of food. Ms. Della had disappeared into the back room, leaving me alone at the store's only counter.
    Suddenly, a faint trace of honeysuckle floated through the air. Closing my eyes, I pictured the scene with me and Spicey, our children running around in the background. There was a creaking sound, and I opened my eyes and glanced towards the entrance to the backroom.
    Joy and relief damn near dropped me to my knees. I smiled tentatively at my beloved. "Spicey."
    There she was. The woman who had given me a reason to live. The woman I was willing to give anything to be with, even if it meant losing my family and friends. She was everything to me. So exquisitely beautiful and pure.
    Her face and body were partially obscured by shadows. Her tightly coiled hair hung loose around her shoulders. Her arms rested by her sides.
    "Spicey."
    She cocked her head to the side. I felt emboldened enough to step towards her, hoping she would meet me halfway. I wanted to snatch her up and leave this place. I wanted to take her from this store. From her mama. From this town. From the memories.
    The love of my life stepped into the light and raised her arms. I stared at the smooth skin of her face for a few moments before I realized that she was pointing the business end of a shotgun at my head. My stomach dropped.
    "Get out." Her smooth voice was deep. Stern with conviction.
    I quickly regretted that I had hoped she would meet me halfway. "Spicey, girl, you need to put that gun down, you hear? You might hurt someone."
    Her long legs ate up the distance between us. I stared down the hollow barrels of the gun.
    "Get out now." She advanced on me until I stepped back, retreating from the store. With my good leg, I kicked open the door and stepped onto the porch.
    "Woo wee," said Rodney. "She done pulled out the shotgun."
    "I bet he done wished he'd read that sign now," murmured Ms. Betty, not hiding the laughter in her voice.
    The two of them sat on the bench, admiring Spicey's pluck. I had to