Wrath

by K'wan

  “And what am I?” Jonas asked her, for lack of a better response.

  Alex studied his face. At a glance, Jonas was the same kid she used to hang around with and pretend she didn’t have the biggest crush on, but there was something different about him. There was a hardness around his eyes that hadn’t been there when she had last seen him. “Time changes people. Some of us, it makes better, and others worse. I should hope it has made you better.”

  “Let’s just say I’m a work in progress.” He tried to laugh off what she had just laid on him.

  The elevator door opened up, and two people got on. It was then that they realized that neither of them had pressed a floor and they were still in the lobby. “Damn, look at us,” he chuckled when he realized the blunder.

  “You always were easily distracted,” Alex teased him. “What floor?” her finger lingered over the buttons.

  “Huh?”

  “What floor does your friend live on? I don’t want to hold you up.”

  Jonas had completely forgotten his lie, but he recovered quickly. “They can wait.”

  Jonas and Alex played opposite sides of the elevator as the car went through the floors, dropping off the passengers who had boarded in the lobby. There were no words exchanged, but their eyes silently told a story of longing and regret. The elevator finally reached Alex’s floor.

  “This is my stop,” she told him but hadn’t moved for the door.

  “I know.”

  More awkward silence.

  “Ah, I guess I’ll see you around.” Alex made to step off the elevator, and Jonas finally made his move.

  He blocked her exit with his arm, holding the door from closing with his back. “Can I see you again? You know . . . not just around? Maybe take you to dinner?”

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” she told him.

  “Why not?” Jonas wanted to know.

  “Because I get the feeling our lives are going in two different directions,” she said frankly.

  “I can’t tell you where my life is going, but I can help you understand where it’s at,” Jonas shot back. “Look, I didn’t come here with any expectations. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

  “Thought you were visiting a friend?” she pointed out his slip.

  “Forget it.” Jonas moved for her to exit, but she continued standing there.

  “You always take the first ‘no’ for an answer?” Alex questioned.

  “I’m not good at begging.”

  “I’m not asking you to beg. I’m asking you to show me that I’m not making a bad decision by opening a box that’s probably best left closed,” she said seriously.

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that I’m focused right now and don’t have time to entertain anything that isn’t going anywhere.”

  “And where is this supposed to be going?” Jonas asked.

  “I don’t know, but I should hope it’s beyond a project elevator,” Alex smiled.

  “You got jokes?”

  “Always.”

  “So, you gonna let me take you out?” Jonas revisited his invitation.

  “I don’t know yet. I still have to see how much of you is Jonas and how much is Wrath.”

  “I’m still me,” he insisted.

  “We’ll see. Do you know the assisted living facility on the East Side?”

  “No, but I can find it,” he said confidently.

  “Good. Meet me there tomorrow. I’ve been volunteering there three days a week while I’m home on break. We’re having a friends and family lunch for the residents tomorrow.”

  “You want me to meet you at your job? Why can’t we just go get something to eat?” This wasn’t turning out how Jonas had expected.

  “Because I still don’t know where your head is at. It’s been a long time, Jonas, and I don’t know if I’m ready to be wined and dined. No pressure, though. If you show up, I’ll know you’re serious. If you don’t, it was good seeing you again. Either way, we’re cool.” She watched him to see how he would respond.

  “I’ll be there,” Jonas finally agreed. For years, he had been romanticizing about what could have been between them, and he wasn’t about to let her slip away again before finding out for sure. He could stand a couple of hours around a bunch of cripples if it meant reigniting the spark between Alex and him.

  “Great, and wear something you don’t mind ruining,” she told him and went inside her apartment.

  What did she mean by that?

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Jonas was walking on air when he came out of Alex’s building. The meeting between the two of them had gone far better than he had expected. Alex was giving him a hard time, but the fact that she had even agreed to the meeting said that she was at least open to the idea of them being friends again. If Jonas had it his way, they would be more than friends. All he needed was for her to open the door, and he would do the rest.

  He puffed casually on his cigarette, thinking as he strode down the block. He was so deep in his own head that he didn’t initially notice the BMW creeping alongside him as he walked down Eighth Avenue. The windows were heavily tinted, and there was no way to tell who was inside. Jonas finally registered it when he stopped at a light to cross the street. Instinctively, his hand slid to where his pistol was tucked. When the light changed, he crossed the street but made sure to keep one eye on the BMW. When the window started to roll down, he drew his gun but kept it behind his back. To his surprise, he knew the driver.

  “Sweets?” Jonas put his gun back into its hiding place.

  “What’s up, baby bro?” Sweets greeted him from behind the wheel. Large Gucci shades covered her eyes, and the diamond studs in her ears twinkled in the afternoon sun.

  Jonas approached the car and leaned into the passenger-side window. “Girl, you almost got blasted rolling up on me like that.”

  “Boy, please.” Sweets waved him off. “What are you doing in this neighborhood?”

  “Nothing. I was checking up on this chick,” Jonas lied. There was no way in the hell he was going to tell her that he had just come from seeing Alex.

  “You ain’t got no friends in this neighborhood,” she replied. There was no mistaking what she meant. After hearing how her little brother had been treated at Doug’s funeral, the Hightowers ceased to be any friends of hers. “Where you headed?”

  “I gotta shoot downtown to see somebody on 110th,” Jonas told her, checking out his sister’s ensemble. As usual, she was dressed to the nines in designer wear. That day, it was Louis Vuitton, a nice leather skirt with a matching jacket. Beneath, she wore a shirt that was sheer at the top, just showing off a bit of cleavage. Not too much; just enough to let you know that she was stacked. Since she had lost her baby fat, she became more daring with how she dressed. She never crossed the line, like Yvette did, but she had no problem showing off what God had blessed her with.

  “I’m going that way too. Jump in. I’ll give you a ride,” she offered. Jonas opened the door and made to get in, but she stopped him. “Now you know you ain’t getting up in this ride puffing that cancer stick.”

  “C’mon, Sweets. I’ll smoke it out the window.”

  “No, you’ll toss it or walk,” she told him.

  “Fine.” Jonas plucked out the cigarette and got in.

  “I don’t know why y’all smoke. It’s a disgusting habit,” Sweets started in.

  “Cigarettes keep me calm.”

  “That’s the lie you tell yourself. Those damn things are going to kill you one of these days.”

  “Cigarettes are the last thing I have to worry about dying from,” he joked.

  “I’m glad you think your health is a joke. You need to quit, for real, Jonas.”

  “Okay, I’ll try, Sweets,” he promised. Jonas took a minute to admire the interior of the car. It was totally tricked out: plush leather seats, sound system, GPS, and wood paneling. It smelled brand-new. “This yours?” he change
d the subject.

  “No, it’s Drew’s. I just dropped him off at the Metro North Station. He had to go out of town until tomorrow.”

  “Your boyfriend is doing big things these days, huh?” Jonas asked. Since Eight-Ball had gotten knocked off, Drew was now running the neighborhood.

  “A little something-something,” she smiled.

  “Well, you make sure you’re careful riding around in this car. This Beamer will attract a lot of attention,” Jonas warned. He noticed the heads that were turning on every block they passed.

  “You know this isn’t my style. I’m going to park it in the garage when I drop you off,” she told him. “I heard your boy Cal is home,” she changed the subject.

  “Damn, news travels fast in the hood, huh?”

  “You know I keep my ear to the streets.” She winked at him from behind her shades. “So, are you happy he’s home?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know yet.”

  His response took Sweets by surprise. “That’s funny. Back in the day, you, him, and Ace were inseparable. I thought you and Cal were friends?”

  “We were. I mean we are . . . Aw, man, I don’t know what I mean. It just doesn’t feel right,” he told her.

  “How do you mean?”

  “Who gets locked up for a murder and comes home in less than five years?” Jonas asked.

  “Wow. That does sound suspect. Anybody check his paperwork?”

  “Don’t you have to be a lawyer to do that?”

  “Not at all. It’s just a matter of going down to the county clerk’s office and filling out the right paperwork. Drew put me up on it. If you want, I can go down there and see what I can find out,” she offered.

  “No, I don’t want you to get wrapped up in this. If the boy ain’t who he claims to be, I don’t want you anywhere near the situation,” he said. He had known Cal since they were kids, but if he was up to no good, then he was as good as dead.

  “Let me know if you change your mind. You know I’m ten toes down when it comes to fam,” Sweets capped.

  Jonas laughed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to hearing you talk like that. You used to be all quiet and shy, and now look at you . . . talking in Ebonics and dripping in jewels. The caterpillar done turned into a butterfly.”

  “I’m not the only one who’s changed.” She nodded toward the imprint of the gun under his shirt. “You’re making quite the name for yourself out here.”

  “What you talking about, Sweets?” Jonas faked ignorance.

  “I told you, I keep my ear to the streets. They’re out here telling stories about you like you’re some kind of boogeyman.”

  “Niggas is just talking. Don’t go believing everything you hear.” Jonas downplayed it.

  “I believe none of what I hear and half of what I see. You don’t think I know you’re out here playing grown-up games, selling drugs and shit.”

  Drugs I buy from your boyfriend, he wanted to say, but instead, he just let Sweets keep talking.

  “I never wanted this life for you, Jonas, but you’re in it nonetheless. You’re too old for me to tell you what to do anymore, but I still love you and want you to be safe. These people are afraid of you out here.”

  “I’d rather be feared than loved,” Jonas said slyly.

  “A scared person will kill you the quickest, smart-ass. But seriously, Jonas. I know you’ve got this big bad reputation going for yourself, but it hasn’t stopped me from worrying about you. The rules of the game are changing, and these younger guys don’t value human life. Just earlier, I heard about a guy around your age getting killed in front of Popeyes. Happened in broad daylight.”

  “Wow, that’s terrible!” Jonas tried his best to keep a straight face. She had no idea that he had been the shooter.

  “So, you can understand why I worry about you. I’m not stupid enough to think if I tell you to stop hustling that you’ll actually listen. I just hope you’re moving smart.”

  “I am,” he assured her.

  They continued driving for a time but quietly, each in their own thoughts. Sweets’s cell phone, which was resting in the center console, vibrated to let her know she had a message. She waited until they were stopped at a red light to check it. She frowned, typed a quick response, and tossed it back down. She was clearly annoyed at whatever she had seen but did her best not to show it.

  “You good?” Jonas asked, noticing her mood had shifted a bit.

  “I’m always good,” Sweets said and pulled through the light, which had just turned green.

  It was at that moment that Jonas had a revelation about his sister. This wasn’t the same chubby girl who wore hand-me-down clothes from the church and bribed her siblings with candy to get them to behave. There was an edge to her, for lack of a better word. After all the years she had spent putting the needs of everyone else before her own, she was finally putting herself first. Sweets was finally coming into her own. The wallflower was blossoming.

  “Why’re you looking at me like that?” Sweets caught him staring.

  “No reason,” he told her. He was silent for a beat. “Sweets, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Are you happy? I mean with Drew?”

  Sweets thought about the question. “Drew is a good man.”

  “That’s not what I asked. Does he make you happy?”

  “I wouldn’t be with him if he didn’t. Drew treats me well and takes care of me.”

  “With drug money. You were always the first one to say you’d never let a man feed you with dirty money,” Jonas reminded her.

  “Times get hard enough, and you start to realize the money doesn’t know where it comes from or cares where it’s going.” Sweets told him. “I don’t agree with his lifestyle, but I’ve come to accept it. Some people are just destined to play the hand that life deals them. Sure, it’s blood money, but that blood money is going to pay my tuition. I’ve decided to go back to college.”

  This was news to Jonas. Sweets had done a year at Rutgers, and then never went back. She claimed the commute from Harlem to New Jersey every day was too much, but Jonas thought it was a bullshit excuse. She had become more interested in chasing Drew than graduating.

  “I’m proud of you, Sweets!”

  “Thanks, baby brother. You’re the only one I’ve told so far. I’ll tell Mom and the girls when the time is right.”

  “How about tomorrow night? Mom is cooking, and she wants all of us to be there,” Jonas told her.

  “Drew is coming back tomorrow, and I have to pick him up.”

  “C’mon, Sweets. He can take a taxi. Come have dinner with us and tell Mama the good news.”

  “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll be there if you will.” Sweets extended her hand.

  “That’s a bet.” Jonas shook it.

  Sweets pulled up in front of St. Luke’s Hospital on 114th. “I’ve got an appointment to keep, and I don’t want to be late. You don’t mind walking the rest of the way, do you?”

  “Nah, that’s cool,” Jonas said. He was actually glad that Sweets was dropping him off a few blocks away. He confided a lot in Sweets but didn’t want her too deep in his business. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just need to get a quick checkup. I haven’t been feeling well lately,” Sweets told him.

  “I could hang out and wait if you need me to,” Jonas offered. There was something about the look in her eyes as she stared at the hospital that gave him pause.

  “No, I’m okay. You go do what you gotta do, and I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner.”

  “Okay, but if you change your mind and need me to sit with you, just hit my phone.” Jonas slid out of the car.

  “I love you, Jonas,” Sweets called out the window before pulling off.

  Jonas continued to stand there for a few minutes, watching the taillights of the BMW blend in with traffic. It wasn’t unusual for Sweets to say that she loved him, but there was something about the way she said it. It felt so . . . final
.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  When Jonas arrived at the address where he was directed to come in the text message, he had to double-check it to make sure he was in the right place. Sure enough, 1047 Amsterdam Avenue. Why he was told that they would meet at St. John the Divine Church was beyond Jonas, but he had learned a long time ago not to ask unnecessary questions.

  On the steps of the church sat a homeless man. He was huddled within the folds of a tattered blanket. It had so many holes in it that it probably did little to fight off the chill at night. As Jonas drew closer, the beggar began shaking his cup of loose change. “Spare a few coins for a veteran?” he asked in an accent that marked him as a southerner.

  Jonas was about to tell him to fuck off and keep walking, but he suddenly had a change of heart. He fished a five-dollar bill from the cash in his pocket and dropped it into the cup.

  The man peered into the cup. When he saw the bill’s denomination, he looked up and smiled at Jonas. Jonas was only able to catch a glimpse of his face in the shadows of the blanket, but he could see a black hole where his left eye once rested. “Appreciate it, young blood. This city ain’t got a lot of love for those of us who are down on their luck.”

  “Then maybe you should go back to wherever you’re from,” Jonas suggested.

  “I go where I’m needed and stay where I’m wanted,” the homeless man replied. “Hopefully, one day, I’ll find myself in the position to do you a good turn.”

  “I doubt it. Don’t smoke that up, old head,” Jonas capped and proceeded inside the church.

  When Jonas crossed the threshold, a strange sensation washed over him. It was hard to describe, but it felt wrong. It was like he wasn’t welcome, and the feeling was mutual. After all he had been through in his young life, he reasoned that God had no use for him, and he had no use for God.

  There was hardly anyone in the church at that hour of the day, on a weekday, so Detective Ceaver wasn’t hard to spot. He was down at the front, near the altar, on his knees with his head bowed and his hands clasped in front of him. Was he praying? Jonas had never taken the detective for the religious type, but over his years of dealing with him, he had learned that he was full of surprises. Jonas made his way down the aisle and sat on one of the benches in the front while he waited for him to finish.