by RM Johnson
“You serious?” Jahlil said, wanting to feel hope but feeling more skepticism than anything else.
“I promise.”
“You won’t be mad if I don’t believe you till it happens,” Jahlil said. “It’s just … I can’t be looking forward to stuff like that, and it not happen.”
Lewis smiled. “Trust me. I understand. But we gonna make this happen.”
“If you say so. And don’t tell my father about this. Since he don’t care about his own kid, I don’t want him knowing about mine.”
69
At the end of the day, all the customers were gone, and Monica had let Roland and Tabatha leave early. She was in her office, shutting down her computer, preparing to close a little early and get out of there herself.
An hour ago, she had gotten a call from Austin. “Can I see you tonight?” he’d said.
“Two days in a row?” Monica had joked. “You really are a go-getter, aren’t you?”
“Yeah … there’s something I want to talk to you about. I’ll come by you. Around ten. I have your address.”
Now as Monica grabbed the store’s mail from her desk, she heard someone outside her office, in the store, saying, “Hello. Anyone here?”
“Oh great,” Monica said, shouldering her purse, clicking off the office light, and closing and locking the door, wishing Roland had locked the front door when he stepped out. As she walked down the hallway that led to the store, again she heard, “Hello?”
“Sorry, we’re closed,” Monica said, not yet emerging from the corridor. “You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
“And what if I don’t want to come back tomorrow?” her ex-husband, Nate, said, standing in the center of the store, his hand in his pocket.
“What are you doing here? We said all we needed to say the other day,” Monica said, surprised to see Nate, of all people, in her store.
“I need to say more.”
“Fine, say it, then get out of my store,” Monica said.
“I was wrong to do to you what I did. To leave you for Daphanie just because I thought she was having my child.”
“Uh-uh, Nate,” Monica said, waving a hand in front of him. “Don’t think you can come over here, admit how foolish you were, and then expect me to take you back, just because I didn’t go for your little deal.”
“I’m not thinking that.”
“Really?”
“I just came to apologize for how thoughtless, selfish, and foolish I was. I saw how you responded to me and to what I asked you, so I’m rescinding that offer,” Nate said, pulling his hand out of his pocket and holding his fist out to her.
“What?” Monica said, staring down at his hand.
“Take it.”
Monica held out her hand, allowed Nate to drop what he was holding in her palm.
“What’s this?” Monica asked.
“The wedding band you bought me when we were first married.”
Monica looked at it closer, surprise on her face. She remembered the day that seemed like a lifetime ago, when they’d stood over the jewelry counter, smiling, and chosen that ring together. She could not help but feel the slightest bit of sadness. “Why are you giving this to me?”
“After the other day, the hateful way you looked at me, I knew we were done, finally, and we’ll never get back together again. I’m correct about that, right?”
“That’s right,” Monica said without hesitation.
“That’s what I thought,” Nate said, appearing genuinely disappointed. “Then I guess I’ll be leaving.”
“Wait,” Monica said.
Nate turned back.
“Did you leave me only because you thought the baby was yours, or did you stop loving me? It doesn’t matter either way, but …”
Nate paused before answering. “Like you said, it doesn’t matter either way, because we’re done for good this time.”
“Yes, you’re right, Nate. We are done for good.”
70
Caleb hoisted three plastic garbage bags off the ground and tossed them in the Dumpster outside the building that housed his brother’s law office. He took off his work gloves, stood, and stared at the stars for a moment. It was a beautiful evening, and Caleb was appreciative. Earlier today, he had taken the cash back to Kwan and paid him off without having to beg Austin again for money. He vowed never to borrow another penny from that man.
Caleb started back to the office, when his cell phone rang. It was Blue. “Workin’?”
“Yeah.”
“Beers when you get off?”
“Naw, kinda tired,” Caleb said. “Think I’m just gonna go home and crash.”
“You handled yourself the other night. Thought you woulda lost a step, but after all those years, you was still on.”
Caleb smiled, even though he knew that maintaining his robbery skills was nothing to be proud of. “Thanks.”
“The big dude liked it too. He wants to know if you wanna join in on that building I was checking out the other day.”
“I’m good. Told you, this was a onetime thing.”
Blue was silent. “How much of that money you got left?”
“A grand, after paying off Kwan.”
“How long it gonna last?”
Not long, Caleb knew. “Blue, what aren’t you getting? I ain’t going back to making a living robbing folks, wondering how long it’s gonna be before I go back to prison. I got a family, responsibilities.”
“That’s why you need to be—”
“Blue!”
“Okay, okay. Just trying to help a brotha out,” Blue said, backing off. “This is what I’m gonna do. Take a few hours, think about it. But you gotta let me know, like now, ’cause this is going down tomorrow night.”
“I told you, Blue, I don’t—”
“Call me back if you down.” Blue hung up.
Caleb shook his head, knowing Blue thought he was doing him a favor, but Caleb knew there was nothing further from the truth.
His phone rang again. Looking at the screen, Caleb didn’t recognize the number. “Hello.”
“Hello, this is Lewis Waters. I hope I’m not calling too late.”
“Naw, it’s cool. I’m just taking a break from work. Did everything go okay today with my son?”
“Yeah, everything went fine. You have a good kid there,” Lewis said. “But I think there’s a few things going on with Jahlil that I need to talk to you about.”
71
Austin and Monica lay in bed together after making love. They lay on their backs, her head resting on his chest. They stared, satisfied, up at the ceiling.
“Have you spoken to Ms. Coleman again? Did she go back?” Austin said, making small talk.
“She said she was going to, but I haven’t spoken to her since then.”
“I’m sorry how that all turned out. You sounded pretty upset.”
“Yeah, but I know it wasn’t your fault. You did all you could,” Monica said, kissing Austin’s forearm.
“It was just about the most unusual thing I’ve ever seen,” Austin said. “I mean, why would that guy—what was his name? Nate Kenny—why would he do that to her?” Austin said, shifting a little in bed. “The attitude that guy had, the arrogance. How could someone—”
“He’s a worthless, evil son of a bitch,” Monica blurted.
Austin looked at her oddly. “Sounds like you know him.”
Monica hesitated. She rolled over onto Austin’s chest and looked him in the face. “I … I … was married to him.”
Austin said nothing at first. He looked at Monica strangely, smiled, then said, “Why didn’t you tell me? Are you divorced?”
“We are, and I didn’t tell you because it had nothing to do with the case. But I’m telling you now. Is that okay?”
“Yeah … well, I guess,” Austin said. “Sure.”
“Can I tell you something else?”
“There’s more?” Austin said, not sure he wanted to know.
Monic
a parted the curls on the side of her head. She grabbed Austin’s hand, pressed his fingers to the parted area of her scalp. “Feel that?”
Austin felt a line of slightly raised scar tissue. “What is it?”
“The healed surgical incision from when I was shot. It was my ex-husband’s fault.”
“He shot you?” Austin said, shocked, as he slowly pulled his hand away.
“No. But he was responsible,” Monica said. “The things I allowed that man to do to me.”
Austin sighed, shook his head.
“What?”
“You sure there’s nothing going on between you two? Sounds like there might still be some feelings.”
“The only feelings I have for him are vengeance and hatred,” Monica said, staring coldly into Austin’s eyes. “He popped up at my store this evening.”
“For …?”
Monica took a moment to answer. “He gave me his wedding band back.”
“You seem a little shook by that.”
“I’m not,” Monica said, looking not at Austin but into the space in front of her, deep in thought. “But I’m sure those were his intentions. All part of his plan.”
“What plan?”
Monica didn’t answer.
Austin laid a hand on Monica’s wrist. “I said, what plan?”
Monica turned to Austin, smiling a little. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” Monica said, smiling wider. “Of course. Now enough about me and my crazy past. You said there was something you needed to talk to me about.”
“I don’t know. Maybe what I had to say should wait.”
“No. It sounded important. I want to hear it,” Monica said.
“Okay, well … I want to know if you’re seeing anyone else.”
Monica chuckled. “Uh, no.”
“You dating? Going out or anything?”
“Not really,” Monica said, eyeing Austin suspiciously. “No. Why?”
“I know it’s only been a short time we’ve been seeing each other, but I’m kind of feeling you.”
“Well, I’m kind of feeling you too,” Monica said, leaning over and pecking Austin on the lips. “So that’s why you’re asking these questions.”
“Just trying to find out if I have any competition.”
“Competition? This is not a race. There’s no finish line. We’re just kicking it.”
“You know, I’m looking for more than just to kick it.”
“Austin, didn’t we go over this already?” Monica said, flopping back onto her pillow with a heavy sigh. “Things were going so well.”
She crossed her arms over her face, sighing more heavily.
Austin wasn’t a fool. Monica’s body language was undeniable. She answered his question by not answering. Austin climbed out of bed, walked over to the chair in the corner of Monica’s bedroom, and grabbed his slacks.
“Wait,” Monica said.
His back to her, Austin halted.
“Do you know how many good guys there are out there?” Monica said.
“A lot.”
“No. A couple, and one of them is standing in my room, trying to put his pants on and walk out of here.”
Austin turned. “You trying to say something?”
“I’ll remain open-minded to the possibility that if things go absolutely perfect between us, then maybe a relationship with you wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” She smiled.
Austin set his pants back down on the chair, climbed back into bed, wrapped his arms around Monica, and gave her a kiss. “That’s all I’m asking.”
72
Caleb parked the van along the curb in front of the building where he used to live with Sonya and Jahlil.
It couldn’t be true, he told himself as he stormed up the filthy, graffiti-riddled stairwell and headed down the darkened, trash-lined hallway, toward the apartment he had been thrown out of a year ago. He heard TVs playing loudly behind some doors, and yelling behind others. This was constant every night.
As Caleb approached his old apartment, he realized there was yelling coming from the other side of his door.
Quickly, Caleb fumbled with his keys, trying to stick the correct one in the lock. They fell to the floor. “Hey! What’s going on in there?” he yelled, snatching up the keys, not sure who the yelling voice belonged to, but he thought it sounded like his son. Hurrying, Caleb pushed the right key inside the lock, turned it, and threw open the door, hearing a loud thud as he did. Caleb’s eyes landed on Jahlil standing angrily over his mother. Sonya was on the floor, her arm raised over her face, as if afraid she would be struck.
Blind with rage, Caleb rushed across the living room, snatched his son by his shirt, reared back, and punched him across the face. The boy crashed into a bookcase. Caleb heard Sonya screaming as Caleb stormed toward the boy and pulled a fist back to punch him again.
Suddenly, Sonya was behind Caleb, clawing at his arm, screaming, crying, “Don’t! Don’t hurt my baby!”
“He put his hands on you!” Caleb yelled, staring angrily at his son. Jahlil was bleeding from his mouth. His lids were low, but Caleb could see the hatred with which his son glared at him. “All that I did for you!” Caleb said. Then he yelled to Sonya, as she continued to yank on him, begging, “Do you know what he’s been doing? Do you?”
“Please!” Sonya cried. “Just let him go.”
Caleb released his son, and the boy stepped around Caleb and his mother and ran out the door.
Furious, Caleb started after him but was grabbed by Sonya.
“Just let him go. Just let him, Caleb,” Sonya cried.
His chest heaving, Caleb forced himself to calm down. He turned Sonya by her shoulders. “How long?”
“What are you talking about?”
“How long has he been like this!”
Her eyes bloodshot red, her body feeling almost lifeless in Caleb’s hands, she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Caleb forcefully let Sonya go, almost pushing her backward, hating her that second, hating himself, hating this life. He grabbed the closest thing within reach, a candle, and flung it across the room, shattering the glass jar it was encased in.
“He’s selling drugs!” Caleb yelled, turning to Sonya. “That’s why he got the shit kicked out of him. He’s robbing people and selling drugs.”
“No. Please don’t say that,” Sonya sobbed.
“You know why? Because he and some girl are having a baby in two weeks.”
“No. You’re lying!” Sonya said, crying harder, turning her back on Caleb. He rushed over and spun her around.
“No! You can’t fucking hide from this. You put me out so I can’t keep an eye on my son, this happens, and you try to tell yourself it’s not true? It is true. It’s true!” Caleb said. “He’s doing everything I didn’t want him to do, everything I did when I was his age. But that has to stop, and it has to stop now.”
73
Nine a.m. the next morning, Bug sat parked outside the apartment complex Jahlil was trying to move into. “I’m telling you, don’t you think you ought to at least call your old man?” Bug said.
Jahlil had crashed on the futon in Bug’s bedroom last night.
“I ain’t thinking about him or my moms. What I need to do is move up out of there.”
“What the people say? They gonna let you get the place?”
After what happened last night, Jahlil told himself he needed to move now. He figured that his father wouldn’t sign for him to get the place, so he thought about Lewis. The guy seemed pretty cool. Maybe he would understand. Lewis could say that he was Jahlil’s uncle. Jahlil would tell Lewis he didn’t need his credit, just sign, because Jahlil wasn’t old enough. All Jahlil needed was the apartment people to agree to let him have the place even though he was $3,500 short on the year’s rent.
Jahlil sat slump-shouldered in the passenger seat of the car, looking sadly at Bug. “They said I needed the en
tire year’s rent, if they were even gonna consider letting me in.”
“You ask them about doing a six-month lease?”
“They weren’t hearing it.”
“Just wait then, or move somewhere else.”
“I can’t wait, and I don’t wanna move nowhere else,” Jahlil said, sitting up, angry. “I gotta go now, and this is where I want me and my family to live. I gotta make it happen.”
“How you gonna do that?”
Jahlil’s cell phone rang before he had a chance to answer Bug. He picked up. Shaun was on the other end.
“You gotta come and get me. I gotta go to the hospital.” There was panic in her voice. In the background, Jahlil could hear loud cursing.
“What’s wrong! Is the baby okay?” Jahlil said, motioning for Bug to start the car.
“Just come and get me!” Shaun said.
When Jahlil walked into Shaun’s apartment, he saw her leaning against a table as though she thought she would fall. Sweat covered her brow. She looked nauseated, as though she would drop to her knees and vomit any moment. A small weekend bag sat at her feet. She wore a jacket she was unable to close because of the size of her belly.
Her mother stood in the dining room yelling. When the older woman caught sight of Jahlil, she focused her anger on him.
“You! You the little motherfucker that got my daughter pregnant?” She was a bony, miserable-looking woman, with thinning black hair brushed back and held together with a rubber band. “She’s seventeen. She ain’t raising no baby in this house like she grown.”
“Come on, Jahlil,” Shaun said, grabbing him by the hand.
“Do you hear me? Don’t be bringing that bastard child back in here, ’cause I ain’t letting either of you in,” Shaun’s mother screamed.
Jahlil halted and turned menacing eyes toward the older woman.
“We better go,” Bug said, pulling Jahlil toward the open apartment door.
“You right,” Jahlil said, taking Shaun’s arm, turning her, and heading out.
“Did you hear me?” the mother said, shuffling closer in her slippers, now waving a spatula in her right hand. “The locks gonna be changed, so don’t come back here with that baby. Throw it in a Dumpster where it belong, but don’t bring that bastard back here.”