Adversary

by S. W. Frank

  “Pregnant?”

  “Yep.”

  Alfonzo groaned. Those two were going to make him crazy. Poor Carlo was already sucking his thumb. He felt sorry for the kid. Maybe, he’d take him for the summer and let him spend time with Angelina and Vincent.  Yeah, when his wife returned, that’s what he’d do to allow his parents to work on their relationship. Besides, he kind of liked playing Uncle. He could spoil Carlo and make Giuseppe suffer. Payback, oh yeah is sweet. He wondered where his daughter was suddenly. “Babe, where’s Allie while you’re out vandalizing cars?”

  “Asleep.”

  “Did Shanda get the satisfaction she wanted?”

  “She sure did.”

  “Okay, my brother’s on his way home and he’s upset. Where are you ladies?”

  “At Sophie’s enjoying our ice-cream.”

  “All right, do me a solid esposa and don’t pull shit like that anymore. Next time holler at me and I’ll talk with my brother, okay little thug?”

  “Okay, big thug.”

  “Don’t make me have to spank that ass when I see you chica,” he teased.

  “Ooooh papi, I want you to spank me. I like when you put your hands on me.”

  He found himself laughing and had to ask, “What’d you tag on the car?”

  “I made a garden but Shanda, she’s the artist. She drew a woman giving head.”

  “A garden…wait a garden?” he asked in disbelief. Damn, even when she was supposed to go hard-core she behaved like a girl. He would’ve put gang signs, skulls, all types of vulgar stuff, but a garden wasn’t intimidating. “Real bad-ass.”

  “Don’t laugh at me…I didn’t know what to draw.”

  He laughed harder. Shanda went to the max. The blow-job depiction was a visual nobody would forget. He pictured Giuseppe cruising down the highway with the advertised obscenity and receiving disgusted stares. Oh man, oh man, he wished he was there. Old school street justice. Tagging buildings and all that craziness he’d almost forgot how much fun it was back in the day. He had a chuckle which lasted throughout the afternoon.

  Women.

  A garden.

  Aye coño!

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

   

   

   

  Harare, Zimbabwe. A city with modern buildings, wide thoroughfares, and streets lined with flowering trees is not what Allie expected as she stared out the window with such disappointment Selange tapped her. “What’s wrong sweetheart?”

  “Where’s the elephants and giraffes mom, this is such a rip-off?”

  Ari laughed.

  “We can visit the preserve before we go to the orphanage tomorrow. Would you like that Allie?”

  Her daughter nodded. “Okay.”

  Selange watched the roads as she placed a call home to check on the kids. Ari was doing the same thing. Selange waited and Maria finally answered. “Hi Maria, we’ve just arrived in South Africa.”

  “Oh good…good…I am happy you are safe.”

  “How are the children?”

  “They’re good. Alfonzo and Sal just left for the office and Anita and I are taking the children to the zoo after breakfast.”

  “They love the zoo, especially Vincent, but watch him closely; he tries to stick his hand through the bars.”

  “I will and how is my Allie?”

  “She’s fine.”

  “Okay tell her hello. I miss you both.”

  Selange kissed the screen. “We love you very much and thanks for taking care of the children. I’ll call you same time tomorrow.”

  “Okay, do not worry the kids are fine. So long.”

  They passed the Mining Pension Fund Building at Central Avenue and Second Street along Robert Mugabe Road between Second Street and Julius Nyerere Way and the National Gallery which houses a permanent display of Shona soft-stone carvings.

  Before they headed to the hotel Selange asked the driver to stop at the national Archives where she wanted her daughter to see the priceless collection of Rhodesiana and Africana in the form of diaries, notebooks and reports of various origins. They emerged to the warm climate and Allie smiled when she spotted the colorful sign with children’s wear near the building.

  Selange took her hand when she pointed at the clothes. “We’ll get you something later but let’s go inside and look at history. How many children can say they were able to see original works of some of the greatest names in African exploration and missionary work?”

  “Uh, mom, plenty. That’s why they have museums everywhere, duh!”

  Ari snickered. “I see someone’s more interested in shopping than history.”

  “She sure is,” Selange agreed. “Her Auntie Amelda has passed on the fashion bug,” she said looking down at the wayward girl, “but history is just as important to a designer. Fabrics and textiles come from all over the world and it’s good to know where these materials originated. Designs are also influenced by fashion from the past.”

  A reluctant girl took interest and with enthusiastic steps listened to her mother discuss the bold colors of Africa which reflected a vibrant people. Like the land and the assortment of species indigenous to the continent and the gems mined from the earth. Jewelry, colorful patterns and many styles worn today were inspired by the beauty of Africa.

  Allie enjoyed hearing this. She peered in the cases, pointing at pictures or reading with her eyes pressed to the display case the notebooks of explorers who chronicled everything from the species of plants, to the observation of Africa’s people many years ago.

  She was so good that her mom bought her whatever she picked out at the children’s store afterwards.

   

   

  ***

   

   

  Kefilwe gathered the children. She signed the visitors were arriving shortly and ordered the staff to put on the children’s brightest colors to welcome their guests. Gamba had sent drummers and a chorus to sing in welcome to show the foreigners the manners of their people. One hour the foreign woman had said on the phone and Kefilwe had considered telling her not to come, to go home when she heard the young girl in the background. The foreign woman’s daughter should not be here. Gamba’s motives were not good. But, she could not warn her, she could do nothing but pretend.

  He’d come again last night when the children slept, in her bed he climbed as if he owned her spirit. Her body danced with his despite her protests. What shame was this woman’s flesh when Gamba no longer demanded and she gave without his request? Drink his milky cum, suck like a whore his sturdy spear, spread wide and cream his lips with what she had considered sacred feminine ground. Lift like a marionette as his fingers squeezed and prodded her buttocks hard upon the weapon used to rob her of a soul. Lick and eat her with joy Gamba did, pour to him willingly and in daylight crave more.

  In the sun, looking over the plains with many species of wild trees and shrubs near the banks of the Mukuvisi stream she stood, broken, wanton and calling to the ancient land that she die...for death was better than to live in shame.

   

   

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

   

   

   

  “Dad, can I go on-line and make a profile?”

  Alfonzo chuckled as he scribbled his signature to the lease and handed it back to Georgina, his secretary for many years. “No, you’re too young.”

  Georgina sashayed out with her usual ‘boom-boom’ ass shakes that made Sal laugh because she was a hot mess. Flirtatious and funny the boy considered the older married woman with kids. She made coming to the busy office fun, and she always gave him whatever he wanted for lunch. “Don’t tell your mama you eat this,” she’d say, knowing good and well he wouldn’t.

  �
��Why not dad?”

  “I just told you why, are you deaf hijo?”

  “Everybody else is on-line, it’s not fair.”

  “If everybody else shoots themselves in the head, will you do that too?”

  Sal’s face contorted. His dad was hard-core sometimes. “No, that’s stupid.”

  “Yep, it is.” He gave Sal his undivided attention. “What’s so important that requires a profile for a kid?”

  “To socialize with my cousins, they’re all on-line.”

  “You mean that social network crap, right?”

  “It’s not crap dad. It’s useful when people are at a distance.”

  “You have a cell?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We have a plane?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, isn’t that how you socialize with the people you know and care about?”

  “I guess.”

  “You guess, either it is or isn’t, be definitive.”

  “Sí!”

  “Exactly.” Alfonzo squinted. “Don’t buy the hype because a lot of people are doing something. Socializing via computer sounds like an oxy-moron to me. When you socialize it shouldn’t be sitting in a room by yourself for hours with a keyboard and screen as a companion. Don’t get me wrong hijo, it has benefits for businesses, to get the word out about happenings around the world and for grounded adults it’s cool occasionally. But, engage with people face-to-face, don’t rely on technology. There are a lot of anonymous crazies hiding behind the screen as well as vicious and lonely people. Anytime you want to chill with your cousins give them a call, let your mom or me know and ‘bam’,” Alfonzo grinned as he re-enacted a magician’s mystique with hands, “by a miracle of flight you are in New York or wherever you want to be.”

  “You’re silly.”

  The arch of the famous Diaz brow. “Thanks, I like silly, sometimes I think I haven’t been much fun, hijo because of this business and you know.”

  Sal nodded. “Dad, don’t worry so much. You’re fun and you’re doing a good job. One day I’m going to help.”

  “Ven aqui hijo!” Alfonzo said and the boy was on his feet in his sharp suit like his dad and not too old for a hug. “I can’t wait until that day comes.”

  Sal pushed out the man-hug and did a mock knuckle to his dad’s face. “Chin up; we’re Diaz, tu sabe?”

  Alfonzo up-chinned and smirked. “Better?”

  “Yeah, now carry-on I have to work.”

  Alfonzo laughed and turned to read the computer screen as Sal went to work on alphabetizing his files. Damn stocks were falling for the third week in a row on one of his investments. He contacted his old college buddy as he watched Sal get on his phone and lean back like his old man to talk to somebody. Atop his smaller desk sat a thin computer, a working business phone and files which had real prospective land options for him to peruse. Interaction in the business was how Sal learned. Books were good, but Alfonzo believed in hands-on and over the years Sal learned a lot. He knew more than Sergio ever would about his dad’s business and the boy was only eleven.

  “Hey, how is my big-time baller doing out in P.R?” Samson’s jovial voice exclaimed.

  “Good bro how’s the fam in Nueva York?”

  “Same shit different toilet.”

  “I told you to consider coming to work for me. I pay more.”

  “Fist to heart man but hell no; there isn’t enough money in the world that’ll get me to do that.”

  “Hey I tried. Anyway, sell my shares in Thompson Electronics and Browning.”

  “Good call. They’re plummeting like the space shuttle.”

  “Think about my offer.”

  “You ask the same shit every time we talk. The answer’s not going to change.”

  “I’ll wear you down eventually.”

  “How many years has it been since college and it hasn’t happened yet, hmmm?”

  “Too many. Kiss the wifey and kids. Paz.”

  “Yeah, peace,” he said. Then the secretary announced Matt and Tony were waiting in the conference room and he stood. “All right Sal, I have a meeting. Hold me down.”

  “Okay.”

  Before leaving he exchanged fists with his son and went to the conference room where Matt cradled coffee and Tony flipped through a magazine. “Hey what’s up guys?”

  “Good morning,” they chorused as he took a seat at the long table and got a run-down on things in New York.

  It’d been less than thirty minutes when Georgina interrupted with an apology. “Lo siento Mr. Diaz, but there’s been a crane accident at the Nunez site. There’s property damage but no one was hurt.”

  “Coño. Okay, have Raphael bring around the car and get Sergio to come up and hang with Sal, okay?”

  “Sí.”

  The men were on their feet and they followed Alfonzo out the door.

   

  ***

   

   

  Giuseppe walked behind Shanda, talking to her back in his mother’s kitchen as she baked and ignored his request to sit and chat. Carlo loved his grandmother and the attention of her friends out on the patio. Two days Shanda spent here with his son, refusing to return home, refusing to hear him out. So, he talked to her in an even temper, in earnest he asked forgiveness. “Por favore bella, do not stay mad. Perdóname if I have offended you.”

  Her lips were pursed. Shanda found no reason to speak to the dog. Sophie said she can stay and use her kitchen for her business as long as she wanted. That is where her focus lie and not on a stupid wedding. The only reason why Giuseppe was begging was because she called the nuptials off. What was the purpose of marrying somebody who didn’t respect anything but himself? Arrogant and cruel sonovabitch is how she felt about Giuseppe now. Love doesn’t mean shit. Letting a man walk all over her wasn’t any prison she wanted to enter with the blessings of a priest.

  She closed the clear plastic, putting gold cord around it and attaching a small card with her business logo she’d ordered on-line. S & S Delicacies. The S was her name and the other Sophie’s who assisted in the culinary operation. Having a partnership with Giuseppe’s mother made good business sense. The woman had connections, financed the whole venture, plus Shanda had unlimited use of her fully equipped kitchen. To hell with Giuseppe and his whoring ass. She wasn’t even telling him about the pregnancy. Let him see for himself in a few months. He was so damn dense he’d probably think she gained fat from low-calorie croissants.

  Deuces!

  Giuseppe leaned on the wall and crossed his arms. “How long do you plan to punish me donna?”

  Nothing escaped Shanda’s mouth. Her hands were busy and so was her mind.

  “What must I do to have you return home bella?”

  I am home asshole, her mind answered.

  “You do not understand bella. I have tried to be the man you want. I have tried to be good and for you I did this but I am not a good man. I am a Don with many problems and my love for you and Carlo are my life's pleasures.”

  Yeah right, that’s why your fucking ass only came home after you finished humping sluts, right?

  Giuseppe frowned. Shanda had changed. He had expected she yell at him, toss a pan, but she had not done any of this. Now, she had the protection of his mother and another troublemaker belonging to his brother. These women were ganging up on him and he felt the villain, which he was, but he hoped Shanda would accept his apology and take pity. Instead, she’d returned the ring with a note to his office the wedding was cancelled. His heart sank when he read the words scribbled in bold print.

  How pretty and vibrant his donna looked today. A glow from the ovens caused a reddish blush to her tan cheeks or was it make-up, he wasn’t certain nowadays? His final appeal was from the heart. “I cannot promise I will be good each day bella, yet I will try to do better. Ti amo.”

  Pitiful as hell. This was the man she was about to marry. She must’ve been out of her mind, she thought. What kind of
mess is that, he’ll try?

  Shanda picked up the basket of crepes and left his ass in the kitchen. Outdoors on the patio with older wealthy Italian women she found her voice. “Buon giorno signore ringrazia per ordinare.”

   

   

   

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

   

   

   

  A variety of bird and other wild animal species Allie got to see yesterday at the reserve. This morning her mama told her to hurry up because their escort had arrived to take them to the orphanage on the outskirts of Harare. An excited feeling ran to her feet at the prospect of spending time with other children and not adults talking stuff she didn’t care about. Who cared Auntie Shanda called off the wedding with Uncle Giuseppe? Who cared she had another baby in the oven, which she knew meant pregnant ‘cause Abuela said that about Jessica, too? Who cared she started a business selling low-calorie dookie pastries to fat people? Allie laughed, if she got fat she’d just stop eating fatty foods and run around the park and shake the ground.

  “Earthquake!” That’s what all the people will scream but she wouldn’t care just like she didn’t care about baking cookies and babies in the oven.

  “What’s so funny?” Estefan asked in Spanish.

  She spoke English because Estefan needed to learn the language better. “You are!”

  “You are not being funny,” he said in English and Allie’s face sank.

  When he turned around she gave him the finger. She liked the other guards better. Estefan was mean. Her sparkly phone came out of her bag with a big star she made with glitter as she followed her mom out the door. Ari talked on her cell too. She talked mushy lovey-dovey stuff to her husband. Ewww!

  “Hi dad,” Allie said when her father answered.

  “Hey niña. You’re calling me something must be up.”

  “No, I’m just calling to check on the children.”

  Her dad laughed. “Oh, okay, but your mom did that. Your brothers and sister are fine, though, but how are you young lady?”

  “We’re going to the orphanage now, about time.”