by Donald Welch
Once outside, he adjusted the hood of his jacket, and under the black stocking cap, traces of platinum-blond hair peeked out. The sound of a siren was heard in the distance as he turned down the darkened street and disappeared into the night.
< TWENTY-SIX >
Alone Again, Naturally
Skylar entered the building that, just months ago, had been Legends, the most thriving, successful nightclub Philadelphia had seen in decades. The decision to let it go had not been an easy one. In fact, she’d agonized over it for quite some time. Despite encouragement from Sidney, Flynn, and the community to keep it open, her mind was made up. There were too many painful memories. Walking around the empty building was surreal for her. She had been notified that there was a buyer for the place. The new owner wanted to put a restaurant here.
What had happened? Why was this happening to her of all people? All of her blood, sweat, and tears had been put into this place. And before that, her family’s. It was her legacy. But it would soon be only a memory. She thought of Dutch and how sad all of this would have made him feel.
Glancing over where the bar used to be, she thought of Nettie and tears started streaming down her face. Skylar couldn’t believe that she would never see her again. Nettie’s murder made headlines in the local papers; The Philadelphia Tribune tried to sensationalize it with a headline banner on its cover, which read: “Lesbian Barmaid with Sordid Past Found Slain in Lover’s Apartment.” What did Nettie’s past have to do with anything? Skylar thought. It was also the lead-in story on local television for several days until the killer was caught.
The entire neighborhood was stunned about what had happened to Nettie, but there was no public funeral. Nettie’s wishes, according to June, were that if something ever were to happen she wanted to be cremated. Skylar and Storm oversaw a memorial service at a local church and there were tributes at Legends and Deana’s. A candlelight vigil was held in her memory, and more than five hundred people came to pay their respects.
At first most thought that June did it. She was a prime suspect— their legendary fights were no secret—but was ruled out after she produced a solid alibi. Everyone was questioned, including Skylar, Storm, and Sidney. One by one they, along with all of the employees and staff, were summoned downtown to police headquarters for questioning. Skylar remembered being asked if she knew of anyone that might have had a reason to kill Nettie. Was there someone from her past? A jealous lover? A disgruntled customer? Or could it have been just a random act of violence? Skylar gave a sworn statement indicating what June told her about the fight Nettie had had with Candice the night she died, but Candice, too, was ruled out after an investigation. Then she remembered Nettie telling her about the run-in she’d had with Pia. Pia had threatened Nettie. Skylar vaguely knew that there was some type of relationship with Pia’s mother, who had previously passed away. She told the detectives that Pia held a deep resentment for Nettie because of that history, and that they should check her out.
Pia didn’t lie to the detectives: She told them clearly and plainly that she despised Nettie, but didn’t kill her. But after a thorough investigation, Pia was also removed from the list of suspects. “Frankly,” Skylar told the detectives, “even though Nettie was widely loved, she had an acid tongue. Her mouth got her into trouble more than once. But anyone who really knew her knew she was harmless.”
Skylar called the precinct daily to ask about new leads or developments in the case. But nothing turned up until a tip came in from an unlikely source. Lovely. Although Lovely still hadn’t returned to the club, she did keep in touch with Skylar and some of the other staff. One evening while watching the news, she remembered something, and although it was minor, she thought she should at least report it. After phoning the tip line, her story checked out and within three days a suspect was apprehended. Elliott Stevens, also known as Treasure, of Atlantic City, was booked and charged with the murder of Nettie Flowers. It was clear that Treasure made good on threats. She had never gotten over how Nettie had publicly embarrassed her during those auditions held at the club several months before. Her final words to Nettie were that they would meet again, and they did.
Nettie had not noticed that Treasure was one of the female impersonators in the Destiny’s Child act that performed for the special evening honoring June. But Treasure recognized Nettie as soon as the fight broke out with Candice. Even though the place was jam-packed and it was hard to see who was fighting, the sound of Nettie’s voice rang loud and clear. Treasure made her way down from the stage into the mass of spectators. Looking over the crowd she saw an out-of-control, intoxicated Nettie being escorted out of the building. She had never forgotten what Nettie had done and knew that their paths would cross again.
“That bitch needs to learn her lesson once and for all,” Treasure said to Cinnamon, the Kelly Rowland look-alike, who was standing right beside her. But Cinnamon didn’t hear her. She was too busy watching and listening to the fight. If she had, Cinnamon would have paid attention, because everybody in Atlantic City knew that Treasure was crazy and would act out.
June did not notice the 1988 Toyota Camry with New Jersey plates following Nettie’s car on their way home. She was far too busy trying to salvage her relationship and calm a drunk and belligerent Nettie. June was pissed at Nettie for ruining the night, and Nettie was cussing her out, telling her that if she didn’t like it, she could leave. These threats were familiar and usually meant Nettie was just lit and running off at the mouth. However, this time they struck a different chord with June. She decided that it might be over between the two of them. Sure, she loved Nettie, but she was tired of the jealousy, the fighting, and the arguing. She was also tired of being threatened with being put out of the place she called home. “Nettie, you know that Candice means nothing to me. You know she is just a part of my past,” she said. But it didn’t matter. Her words fell on deaf, intoxicated, angry ears.
Treasure watched as June parked the car, sliding down in her seat just enough to keep both women in view so that she could see which apartment they went into.
June attempted to help Nettie get in the house but Nettie would not allow her to touch her and stumbled up the stairs and into the building. After a few moments, a light went on and the women were visible from the street. June left no more than five minutes later. As Treasure sat in her car fingering the razor she kept tucked under her wig, she relived that embarrassing day at Legends and got angrier by the second, her eyes glued to the third-floor window. She assumed it was the bathroom because the shadowy outline of Nettie’s petite figure disrobed and descended into what must have been a tub. This was it. This is what bitches get, Treasure thought.
• • •
Skylar knew it would take a long time to come to grips with the loss of Nettie. Not just because Nettie was a dear, close friend who had died, but because of how violently she had died.
If that weren’t enough, Alexia was now being charged with the attempted murder of Torch, who spent three weeks clinging to life in intensive care and was now at the Lehigh Valley Burn Center, suffering from third-degree burns on his face and neck. He was expected to live, but had suffered severe damage to his face. Skylar was told he was unrecognizable. His lips had melted together, and he’d lost vision in his left eye. He would eventually have to have multiple surgeries to reconstruct his face and left ear. Because he went into shock and his lungs collapsed, he was now breathing with the help of a tube inserted down his throat. He was spending at least twelve hours a day in a hyperbaric chamber in an isolated dark room and would never know life as it was. An ironic twist for a man named Torch.
Skylar definitely felt Alexia was wrong—dead wrong—to have done what she did. She just snapped. But she also believed Alexia had been a victim, too. Even the strongest person can only take so much. Alexia was just tired and fed up. All she wanted to do was live her life and start over. Skylar remembered something Nettie used to always say: “Everybody don’t go looking for trouble, sometimes
trouble find them.” How true that had been.
Yes, too many memories were in the place. Although Legends had been cleared of all liability, the press had not been too kind with its coverage of the unfortunate circumstances. Skylar even heard that Legends was to be in Philadelphia magazine again. This time it would be the cover story. “The Rise and Fall of Legends: Was This the End?” How quickly things could change.
Lost in thought, Skylar didn’t notice that Flynn had come in.
“Hey, Sky,” he said softly.
“Flynn! Hey.” She went to him and they gave each other a long hug.
“Well, I’m on my way,” Flynn said, looking at her and holding her hands in his.
“I’m going to miss you, brother,” Skylar said, tearing up.
“Not as much as I’m going to miss you.” He smiled.
“Have you decided where you’re going, Flynn?”
“I haven’t. I saw that Amtrak commercial about the ‘See America Our Way’ campaign, where you pay five hundred dollars and you can see the whole country, and I thought I’d give it a try. I’m not sure where I’ll end up, but anyplace is better than Philly right now.”
“Boy, do I understand what you mean,” Skylar said.
All kinds of rumors had surfaced after the Alexia fiasco and Flynn had become the butt of many jokes by fellow comedians and everyday folks. No one was louder about it than Beatrice, who was headlining at the Laff House on Sixth and Bainbridge. Half of her material was about Flynn and Alexia. None of it was true, of course, but it didn’t matter now. He had to go. “Sky,” he said, “you have Sidney, and he’s a really good man. I’m leaving you in good hands, baby girl.”
“What about your comedy, Flynn? You think you’ll hit a few clubs on your cross-country journey?” she asked him.
“I doubt it. Ain’t got too much to laugh at anymore, Skylar. Besides, I ain’t that funny. You know it and I know it. Hell, the crowds know it, too.”
“That’s not true, Flynn! This city loves you! Everyone enjoys your act.”
“There’s a big difference between people laughing with you versus at you.” His voice seemed to mellow with each word. “But I’m cool with that. If nothing more, I enjoyed myself. And I thank you for giving me a home to do my thing for the past two years. I’ll never forget that. So many people go through life never having the chance to follow their dream. I had mine. Tell Storm good-bye for me and that I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to say good-bye in person. And listen, baby girl: I know shit ain’t right between you and your sister. But try and work that shit out, Skylar. Family is so important, you know?”
“I sure will. Take care, Flynn.” They embraced and then Flynn started toward the door. He put his hand firmly on the knob and, without turning around, said, barely audibly, “I’ve always loved you.”
“I know,” Skylar said.
As the door closed behind Flynn, Skylar knew that another chapter in her life had come to an end. People had been leaving her life in one way or another for as long as she could remember. At least she still had Sidney. Having a man so gentle yet so strong who loved her unconditionally, who was her support system, was so important. Sidney was the one person she could always count on.
Skylar decided to take one last walk through the building that held so many memories for her. As she walked through the kitchen, her mind went back to the days when she and Storm would run around and watch Dutch prepare the latest soul food dishes for customers.
She thought about how excited she had been going over the layout with the contractors for the new kitchen she had planned for Legends. She wondered what kind of kitchen the new owners would have. Wiping away a tear, she clicked off the light and reentered the main area of the building. An unlikely visitor stopped her in her tracks.
“Hey, sis,” Storm said.
“Storm? What are you doing here?” Skylar said softly.
“I figured you’d be here.” Storm closed the door behind her and walked closer to her sister. For a few moments there was silence. Skylar decided to speak first.
“I … I want to say I’m sorry, Storm,” Skylar said.
“Sorry? For what? I didn’t come here to get an apol—”
“Let me finish,” Skylar said. “I’ve spent all my life trying to be perfect. It started with Dutch. I always wanted to make sure that I was doing the right thing. Dutch could always count on me. When I was fourteen, he taught me how to run this business, while you were out running with your friends having fun. I never questioned it because I felt that he probably thought I was better at handling responsibility. That made me feel good, feel worthy. When errands were to be run, I was the one Daddy sent. You, on the other hand, stayed at home and rode your bike.” Skylar chuckled. “At church, I was on the youth usher board, ran the fellowship program, and sang in the choir. Not Storm. You sat uninterested in your seat, waiting for the service to be over so you could go join your friends. When some of the church ladies would ask why you were not involved in the same things, you’d reply without missing a beat, ‘Because I don’t want to!’”
Both sisters laughed. “But,” Storm added, “don’t forget that my flip-ass tongue also got me many an ass-beating from Dutch. Many a time.”
“True, but you had the balls to speak up,” Skylar told her. “It took me a long time to admit it, but I was jealous of you.”
“What? Be serious.” Storm was shocked.
“You were always so free. I wanted to be that way. I wanted to be that open to life.”
Storm looked at her, totally confused.
“Storm, you dance to the beat of your own drum. You always spoke your mind, whenever you felt like it, even to Dutch. If it didn’t feel right to Storm, she’d let you know it. When I look back on that, I’m envious,” Skylar said.
Storm was speechless. Never in a million years had she expected to hear her sister say such things. She wanted to interrupt but didn’t. This was too good to be true.
“No one ever thought to ask me if I wanted to do all those things. Everybody just assumed I was fine with it all. There were times I wanted to tell Dutch, ‘No! I want to go the park and just hang out sometimes, too.’ Or when the church wanted to add yet another responsibility to my overflowing plate, I could’ve said, ‘Please get someone else.’ But I didn’t. I made everybody else happy except for myself.” She seemed to drift for a moment, thinking about all of this, before looking up at her sister. “And yes, I did grow up thinking I was better than you. That I would be the success of the family while you continued to fail,” Skylar whispered.
“Well, I’d say by the way things turned out, you were right,” Storm said.
Moving closer to her sister, Skylar said, “No, Storm. I was so wrong. I was the one who failed. I failed you.”
Storm searched her sister’s face for some sort of explanation. She wanted to speak but didn’t know quite what to say.
Skylar continued, “I should have been there more for you. I never took the time to find out what you thought, how you felt, where you wanted to go. I never asked about anything you had going on in your life. I was too busy doing me, I guess. Believing my own press releases.
“So now, here we are, almost thirty, and we don’t even know each other. I don’t think we ever did. Losing Dutch and now Nettie makes me feel that all this fighting and discord between me and you is crazy! I resented you coming back trying to change things, claiming things that I felt you had no right to possess. I was wrong. Whatever Dutch left, whether you were here or not, is just as much yours as it is mine. The selfish side of me didn’t want to believe that.” Skylar felt a lump forming in her throat. It’s hard to swallow guilt.
Storm took a deep breath before starting. “You know, Skylar, regardless of our paths, you are still my sister, my blood. Now, we can spend the rest of our lives trying to apologize for what went wrong, rehashing the past and feeling bad for every little thing we’ve done to each other, or we can nix the shit and start living for today … right n
ow,” Storm said with conviction.
“Why you gotta cuss?” Skylar teased.
“What? Shit, you know I talk like that.” Storm playfully hit her.
“I … I have something I need to tell you. About your arrest,” Skylar said nervously.
“So, what’s your plan, sis, now that you’ve sold the place? Because I have a few ideas—”
“No, Storm, you have to hear me on this,” Skylar said, grabbing her arm—and her attention. “I don’t want to talk about that right now. I just want to make things right. So I need you to allow me to say what I need to say.”
Storm took a step back from her sister and said, “Wait one more second. Being locked up for so long, you tend to get easily bored. So you spend a lot of time reading as much as possible. Mostly it was the Bible or the dictionary. One day, after going over my case with my lawyer, I did something that I hadn’t done before. I read my file. Seriously, I sat myself down and really read my file. There were so many inaccuracies; and I uncovered information that I never knew. I gotta tell you, I was pissed.”
Uneasiness overtook Skylar. Feeling somewhat faint, she braced herself against one of the tables and the wall. This went unnoticed by Storm, who was looking away.
Storm raised her voice, not out of anger, but frustration.
“Then, I looked up the word ‘forgiveness’. Now, according to Webster’s, it said, ‘to give up resentment against; or the desire to punish. To pardon.’ What tripped me out even more was in the Bible. Jesus said in Luke 6:37: ‘Judge not and you shall not be judged. … Forgive and you will be forgiven.’ I realized then, what’s done is done and can’t nobody do nothing about it. Like I said, Sky, I’m willing to start living for today … right now.”