Crack! The trailer door flew back. Ebony uncoiled from her roundhouse kick stance and gave her father a withering look. Curtis was still staring down at his mother’s key in his hand. The key didn’t fit his mother’s door. Had Momma changed the lock on me, he thought.

Things had been bad between them for the last six months. His mother, Mabel Augusta Carter Goldstein Rivera, was the meanest woman in south Florida. Mabel could argue the spots of a Dalmatian. Mabel could make a statue cry. Mabel could make a grown man piss his pants with a firm stare. The family whispered the only reason the old battleaxe lived to 99 was that heaven wouldn’t have her and hell feared she’d take over. Curtis shook his head.

Ebony toed the door wide open. Fearless like her grandma, Ebony went to poke her head into the doorway. Curtis’ hand flew out and stopped her. Ebony looked affronted.

“Momma it’s Curtis and Ebony,” Curtis called out.

He was answered with the smell of dog shit and rotting food. Mabel was mean and clean. Mabel deep cleaned every Sunday. Mabel used to put on white gloves and criticize Curtis’ first wife for dust under the sofa. Mabel said cleanliness is next to Godliness and messiness was an ass whopping.

Holding his youngest back, Curtis stepped into the dark double wide. Something crunched beneath his feet. Hairs prickled on his nape. He knew something was wrong and he knew he was not alone. A low growl came from the darkness.

Suddenly light. Ebony stood by the light switch with a shovel. Where did this girl get a shovel? He thought. From the corner a skinny gray pit bull puppy shivered in a dirty crate. Father and daughter slowly turned around Momma’s home. Everything was gone.

The commemorative plates, Momma’s handmade quilts, the Black Americana iron bank collection, and the constellation of family photos were gone. Even the framed pictures of Obama, Jesus, Tubman, and MLK were missing. Ebony stared at the picture hangers empty on the wall. Curtis put his hand where his bronze baby shoes used to be and wavered.

Ebony helped him to a tattered sofa were Momma’s French grey velvet loveseat had been. She fetched him a glass of water. It was Momma’s retro fiestaware tumbler. He drank deeply. Momma had gotten pissed at him over losing her cellphone again. Curtis made the mistake of questioning her memory. They had not talked in six months. That was Momma’s way.

Momma still called Ebony though. Five months ago when he tried the landline one of Momma’s new neighbors answered. Kiki assured him the she was friends with Mabel and keeping an eye on her. Kiki and Curtis talked every few weeks. Curtis grew to trust the kindly voice. Things were fine, until they weren’t. All calls stopped three days ago. Ebony flew down and together they drove to Momma’s.

“Whatever you do don’t look in that filthy fridge,” Ebony said.

She let the puppy out of its crate and fetched it some fresh water and beef baby food. This is when Curtis noticed the dingy toys on the floor. His body was swimming through molasses and he was having a hard time catching his breath. Ebony investigated the bedroom. Slurping the puppy ate food near his foot.

Ashen, Ebony returned from Momma’s bedroom. “Somehow Nanny Mae’s bedroom is filthier than the kitchen. I took all the mail and IDs of the bastards living here for the cops. Nothing of hers is in there except this.”

Lip quivering, Ebony handed her dad a photo. It was of Mabel at her 50th birthday party in a bell bottoms and a halter top and mouth open in a laugh. His bones ached knowing his fierce, proud, maddening mother was gone. They hugged each other.

“Who the hell are you!” A red-faced man shouted.

Ready to strike, Ebony whipped up the shovel. The guy dropped his burger and fries and backed up. Ebony edged closer.

Curtis stood, rage icy and sharp radiating from him.

“We are the kin of Mabel.”

The stranger’s eyes went wide in recognition.

“You took her from us. We are the people who will rain retribution on you and everyone else involved, burn your world to a cinder, and salt the earth so you all never rise again.”

Ebony snapped the man’s photo with her cellphone. Blinking, the man swallowed hard. Curtis gave his daughter a nod, pushed the man aside, and headed for his car. Ebony followed, turned around and grabbed the puppy, and walked to the car with the shovel over her shoulder.