I couldn’t even answer Mayhem’s remarks.
Mayhem continued, “I have someplace you can hide out while I try to smoke this fool. They call him ‘the Executioner.’ They say he’s one of the best international hit men in the world.”
“No, I’m good,” I said calmly, but my heart was beating so fast, I thought I would pass out. I did my deep breathing from my tae kwon do teacher and felt myself getting centered.
Lord, what kind of mess had I gotten myself into? Now I must’ve been crazy. Facing off with the cartel like that. Now they were retaliating. Well, what did I expect? What had I been thinking? But looking back, I was trapped in a corner and it was down to survival of the fittest. And once again, it all came down to dealing with Mayhem. I could strangle him if he were standing near me.
But that was no longer me. That was the me I was before I got pregnant. Now I had a baby to think about. As if the baby heard me, I felt a strong kick.
Don’t worry, baby. Mama’s going to take care of you—I don’t know how, but some way, with God’s help, we’re going to make it.
Chapter Twenty-four
I stayed at the Department of Justice all day, with only a Subway sandwich and a 7 Up, which they bought for me late in the afternoon. Then, at night, two federal marshals whisked me into a van with blacked-out windows. We drove for about an hour outside the city. I thought we were on the outskirts of L.A. County close to Riverside County.
I was too done in to even worry about the time. I was trying to think of my next move. I planned that I would stay in the program until I had my baby, then I’d move on—where, I didn’t know.
“You’ll stay here until we get you a more permanent place to stay,” the marshal said to me. That was the only information I had.
They took me to a small motel somewhere out in the boonies. The place was called the Starlight Motel, but letters were missing in the marquee. As soon as they opened the door, the place screamed out “second class.” The auburn shag carpet on the floor was worn, dirty, and shabby looking. Two white officers were supposed to be guarding me. Both looked unshaven and disheveled. They were not dressed in uniform. They smelled funky, as if they hadn’t bathed in days.
“Who are you?”
“That’s none of your business,” one of the men snapped.
“No, are you the US marshals or the FBI?”
“Don’t worry about that. Just know we can keep you safe. I got my friend here.”
He touched his .357 Magnum. I didn’t feel reassured, seeing as he had liver spots on his hands and hair growing out both ears and his nose. The other man wasn’t much more fit, with his rotund belly and balding head, as he touched his Smith & Wesson.
“Do you want Chinese food?” the first man offered.
“No, I’m going to bed.” I nodded and went to my room.
From my bedroom, I listened to them play bid whist, pinochle, and Monopoly. I was trying to keep my eyes open because I didn’t feel comfortable.
“You want some pizza?” one of the guards asked.
I was so sleepy, I said no. I must have dozed off because a while later, I heard a loud banging sound on the door.
“Who is it?” one of the guards called out.
“Pizza delivery man,” a voice called back.
I heard the door open, and a sudden barrage of bullets rang out. I jackknifed up in the bed, frightened. I could hear voices shouting, “Where is she?”
“What are you talking about?” I heard more shots. Through the cracked door I could see blood and gun smoke.
Right away, I knew what time it was. The safe house wasn’t safe. I was about to get got. I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my purse, which had my Glock in it, and climbed out the window. I broke into a sprint, then into a fast run. I held my stomach underneath the ridge above my pubic hair. It was damp and cool outside. I felt tall weeds slapping at my legs. I didn’t have a coat. I’d left my laptop, my new iPad, and my bag of clothes. I had nothing. Nothing but my will to survive.
I finally came to the bottom of a hill, and found a parking lot nestled in a valley filled with a lot of old-fashioned aluminum-siding trailers. I found one that was empty, a rusted-out trailer down the road but hidden by a willow tree, and I hid there. I was so afraid, I didn’t worry about how dank and damp the place felt. I just wanted to go for shelter. I covered myself with old newspaper.
I woke up the next morning not quite sure where I was. I checked around. I touched my stomach and my baby started moving. My stomach growled so loudly, I jumped with a start. I guess the baby and I were both hungry. The sun had come up in the east early. It felt like it was going to be a scorcher. I put my hands over my eyes to block the sun glare, but I could see mountains in the distance off to the North of me. I found my iPhone in my purse and I was grateful. I had nothing else. I only had $20 on me. My driver’s license, all my credit cards and debit cards had been taken and I was supposed to be given a new identity, if necessary, by the time the trial took place.
I decided to get moving. I stayed off the road, but close enough to follow the freeway. I was near the Interstate 60. Finally I found an ARCO gas station. I went inside and used the bathroom, then washed up the best I could with paper towel and cold water.
“Where are we?” I asked the store clerk when I came out the bathroom.
“We’re in Rialto.”
With only $20 to my name, I bought a bottle of water, a boiled egg, an orange, a banana and apple, plus a bagel. After I wolfed down the nourishment, I took my prenatal vitamins.
Now that I had fed myself and my baby, I could think clearly. I didn’t know whom I could trust. I could only imagine what had happened to my guards. Obviously, there was a mole who had leaked my whereabouts. Was there any safe place for me?
Who could I call, without endangering my family?
Then I had a thought. I put in a call.
Chapter Twenty-five
Reverend Edgar Broussard pulled up in his church van in front of the ARCO. I had been hiding in the bathroom off and on.
“Thank you for coming,” I said as I climbed into the van. I scooted down in the van to hide myself, just in case he was being followed.
“Would you like to come back to my house?”
“No.”
“What are you going to do?” He looked down, and noticed I was shivering, teeth chattering. “You don’t have a coat.”
“I know.”
“Here, take my jacket.”
Reverend Edgar reached over and slipped his jacket around me. “You’re pregnant!” He sounded shocked. That’s when I remembered I’d never told him about my pregnancy. “What is going on, Zipporah?”
“If I tell you, a lot of this information could cost you your life. Are you sure you want to know?”
“Please tell me. I can’t help you if I don’t know what I’m up against.”
I let out a deep breath. “Okay. I have to hide out. I was supposed to be going into the witness protection program so I could testify against a corrupt special FBI agent, but the guards were killed at the safe house and I had to escape with my life. Before I left L.A., I found out a hit from Brazil has been put out on my life.”
“What?” Reverend Edgar sounded shocked. “How did that happen?”
“I went to Brazil on a case a few months ago, and let’s just say I made some enemies there.”
Reverend Edgar let out a low whistle. “Okay, Zipporah, you’re definitely not an ordinary woman.” He shook his head in disbelief. Absently, he ran his hands over his bald head. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I have a cabin up in Big Bear near Seven Oaks that belongs to my family. It’s a kind of isolated area. None of my family goes there in the winter so you can be safe. I’ll get you a coat and some clothes to make it with. We’ve also got to buy you some food. There are plenty of blankets at the cabin. I’ll come check on you every few days. What are you going to do when it’s time to deliver?”
“Well, I’ve got time. I’ll move close to to
wn, or go to a hospital when it gets near my due date.”
“I’d like you to take this Bible. You’re definitely going to need God’s help.”
Reverend Edgar stopped and bought me some warm maternity clothes and a wool coat at a general store, which sold everything. We wound up with a cart with what looked like a month’s supply of groceries. He made sure I had plenty of vegetables and fruit when I told him I wasn’t a big meat eater. He also picked up a blender for me to make a green drink from spinach, chards, ginger root, and kale. I noticed my blood count had gone up since I’d gotten on the green drink. Once we arrived at the cabin, I was pleasantly surprised at how nice and roomy the place was. The cabin was built from dark oak wood with high ceiling beams. A stone-front fireplace with a rocking chair in front of it gave the room a cozy focus.
There were two bedrooms on one floor and one large bedroom in the loft area. The Reverend opened the windows and aired the place out. He showed me the room heaters, which, once they got going, sent a warmth throughout the cabin. He went outside and put a few fresh logs in the fireplace.
The first thing I did was take a long, hot shower. When I came out the shower, wringing out my hair, which was now shoulder-length, I noticed Reverend Edgar staring at me.
I gave him a strange look. “What’s the matter?”
He shook his head. “Your hair is beautiful. It has highlights like a raven’s wing.”
I shrugged. “Thanks.”
I felt a little embarrassed, so I pulled my hair back into a ponytail. I’d always had what some Black people called “good hair.” My hair had a loose curl in it, and was wavy when it was wet. I didn’t wear a press when I was a child. As an adult, I had worn a press or even a perm to try it, but now I was going back to the natural look. Although my hair could look straight with a gel on it, I was glad that the natural hair styles were becoming popular again. I was beginning to think about locking my hair and wearing dreads.
“Do you need anything else?” he asked.
“Well, I hate to be a burden, but I’m going to need to go to an ob-gyn doctor next week.”
“We’ll find one in a small town near here.”
I nodded. As I sat in the rocking chair, I enjoyed the crackling of the logs in the fireplace. For the moment, I was able to put my fears aside.
Meanwhile, Reverend Edgar cooked a nice meal of spaghetti, with dried tomatoes, garlic bread, warm olive oil, and Caesar salad. After he blessed the food, I let out a sigh of satisfaction. It felt so good to be over the nausea now. Food had taken on a special flavor. I’d never known it to taste so good.
“This is delicious,” I said, twirling the pasta around my fork. I dipped the garlic bread into the olive oil. “I’m starving.”
“Glad you like it.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Why?”
“I’m surprised that as a reverend you can cook so well.”
“We have to cook at the station during our tour and we take turns. I work forty-eight-hour shifts; then I have four or five days off. I’ll be able to come and check on you on my off days, and around my church duties. Are you sure you will be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. This will give me time to plan my next move.”
“Well, whatever it is, pray about it, and ask for God’s guidance.”
Generally, I mocked the reverend’s talk about God, but now I felt so helpless, so vulnerable, I really knew I had to leave my life in God’s hands.
That night, before Reverend left, I asked him about the story of David. “Do you think it was true?”
“What do you mean?”
“That David was able to kill a giant with five stones.”
“After David knocked him out with the stones, he took Goliath’s sword out of its sheath and stabbed the giant. He also beheaded him once he got him down.” He turned away, picked up the Bible, and leafed through it. “Here, you can read the account in the Bible at 1 Samuel 17:40-51.”
He opened the Bible and I read it out loud. I couldn’t even believe it myself that I was sitting here with a minister, reading from the Bible. “Do you think this was true?”
“Yes, it was a true story. The message is that with God’s help, you can fight an army. You know sometimes God sends angels to fight holy wars.”
“Well, miracles always happen,” I admitted. “I guess it was a miracle how the woman used her car and blocked the other cars when I was hit.”
“What woman?” Reverend Edgar looked puzzled.
“The one who kept talking me though while I was trapped in my car. She even called 911. Didn’t you see her?”
“No, I didn’t see her.”
“But she’s the one who explained to you what happened.”
“I didn’t see any woman.”
Now it was my turn to be perplexed. “Are you sure?”
“Sure about what?”
A chill sent goose bumps up my arms. “Are you sure you didn’t see a woman?”
“No. What did she look like?”
I thought about the scripture about angels coming forth when we didn’t even know it. Shirley always said we had guardian angels. I shook that eerie feeling away. “Well, she was a Black woman. She had a calm, soothing voice. Oh, well. I hope I can find her to thank her one day.”
I thought of my experience in Rio. I still didn’t understand what gave me the strength to do what I did. I felt it was related to the ritual from the Santeria. But, I guessed that was a mystery I would never solve.
Chapter Twenty-six
That first night, I sat down and made a list of what I had to do. I needed to find an ob-gyn doctor in the area and a small hospital where I could deliver in anonymity. I needed to go shopping and buy some yarn—so I could crochet a baby blanket—a wig, and sunglasses for when I went to the doctor. I also decided I would pick up some cloth diapers and a few baby sleepers. I was wondering if I could find some tapes of Lamaze classes on my iPhone, since I thought it might be too risky to go to an outside class. I went on YouTube and found the perfect class.
That first week, the reverend came and took me grocery shopping and we found a small doctor for me to get a checkup. He gave me more prenatal vitamins, when I told him I didn’t have the money.
Afterward, we went for a walk by the stream behind the cabin. I picked up five large rocks and had Reverend Edgar tote them back to the cabin for me.
“These are symbolic of the five smooth stones David had,” I said. “I’ll keep them as a reminder that God is in charge and to help me from being afraid.” I put them under my bed for protection.
“That’s a good idea. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Yes, there is.”
“Shoot.”
“Can you be my Lamaze coach?”
“Sure, but do you think it’s safe to go out?”
“Well, they have classes online on YouTube that you can use in the privacy of your home. Do you think you can act as my coach?”
“When do you want to start?”
“We can start now.”
I had spread out a blanket on the floor before the fireplace and used four pillows as props. We moved the rocking chair that sat in front of the fireplace out of the way. As Reverend Edgar sat behind me on the pillow, he helped me with the breathing; he was very intense. He gently massaged my shoulders to the rhythm of his voice.
“Pant, pant, breathe,” he coached.
Meantime, my mind was on breathing, and all the time I was thinking of Romero . . . how I wished it were him.
Afterward, I noticed Reverend Edgar seemed to be looking pensive. “Are you all right?”
He shook his head. After a while, he spoke, “This reminded me of my wife, Paula, and me.” I noticed tears in his eyes. He looked away and wiped his eyes.
I thought about how that had to be the most painful thing in the world—to have carried a baby full term and for it to die during delivery. Worse, his wife had died, taking all their hopes and dreams of building a family
life together. I shuddered as a chill ran through me. Oh, Lord, let me have a safe delivery.
Impulsively, I reached over and gave him a hug. Before I knew it, Reverend Edgar had embraced me and was trying to kiss me. I didn’t want to be rude, but I had never felt any more than a friendship feeling for Reverend. I wasn’t over Romero yet, and judging from his tears, he wasn’t over Paula.
I slowly eased out of his kiss. “I think it’s too soon for both of us. I’m still in love with Romero, even though he’s dead.”
“I’m still in love with Paula, but I’m sure she would want me to move on, if I found the right woman.”
“That would be nice—if you found the right woman.”
“I think I have found her.”
I stopped in my tracks. Reverend Edgar gave me this strange look, and I recognized it. It was the look that Romero had when he would study me. Oh, no! The Reverend was beginning to catch feelings for me!
“Look, Reverend Edgar,” I said, cautiously. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. I’m not the right woman for you.”
I could see the hurt and embarrassment in his eyes. “Don’t say that. You’re lovely. You’re strong. You’re up here, all alone, having your baby by yourself. Don’t worry. I won’t push you. I know you’re still grieving, too.”
“I’m glad you understand.” An uncomfortable lull fell over the room. Seconds went by but they felt like hours.
I took a deep breath. I tried to reset the energy in the room from this awkward space. “Hey, have I thanked you for all the kind things you have done for me? I really appreciate it. You’re one of the good guys.”
Reverend Edgar’s shoulders relaxed and he looked visibly relieved that I wasn’t acting like we could no longer be friends. “I know I’m not your baby’s father, and I could never replace him, but how about if I go to the hospital with you when you deliver? I want to be there when you go in delivery.”
L.A. Blues III Page 12