The Rhythm of Blues

by Love Belvin

He would not shut down on me. Not on this.

  Slowly, Raj changed positions to rest on one hip. His hand went to his tailored waist and his neck collapsed, causing his head to fall back as he exhaled deeply. Then he approached the bed again and sat with his back to me. I didn’t move to touch him, though I wanted to cover him in love, compassion, and understanding without an ounce of judgment. I could do that for him. I wanted to be that for Ragee.

  It seemed his heaving began all over again, broadening his back framed in flexing muscles. With one hand, he held his face, his posture afflicted.

  “I—I… Uhhhhh…” I could hear him swallow. “I’ve been having nightmares again. Something I thought I was cured of…a few years ago.”

  “How?”

  “Intense therapy with a…sharp professional.”

  My brows met. “And they’re back now?” He nodded. “You know the trigger…” I stated rather than asked. Raj nodded again. “Me.” I swallowed back the pain of what I was admitting to. “Being sexually involved with a woman has brought them back.” My face fell.

  Damn, that hurt…

  “Nah,” I heard and peered up. “Being intimate with a woman and sharing a room and bed with her did.” He paused for a spell. “I’ve had sex with women.”

  Oh…

  One brow hiked curiously. “Only women?”

  “Only women,” he affirmed unequivocally.

  “Then who hurt you?”

  Raj shook his head, wordlessly. I waited on bated breath, desperate to know what haunted him.

  “I was molested by my aunt for years as a kid.”

  Bile rose from my belly and my head swished with nausea. Thank God his back was to me. My breathing, though, turned shallow and choppy. I had to get myself together. I had to be here in the moment with him.

  “Which aunt?” too much excitement laced my voice.

  He shook his head again. “That’s not important.”

  “I don’t want to be passing her gravy at a holiday dinner. I want to beat the shit out of her then make her eat it,” I swore with so much passion, I could hardly speak it.

  “She’s no longer a concern. Dead.”

  “But she still haunts you. The nightmares,” I reminded him.

  “They’re triggered by…”

  “What?” I demanded, needing to know.

  “Doing things in the bed.”

  “Especially your personal beds in Sparta and Jersey City,” I whispered my revelations. We’d never had sex in those beds. When I tried to the first time, he went soft on me. “That’s why you fought to enjoy the first time I went down on you. We were in what should be a comfortable, protective zone to you: your bed.”

  How could I not have seen this?

  “I’ve never…” He cleared his throat. “Wynter, I’ve never made love to a woman before. I have the chicks I go to when I need to get off, but it’s never…domestic. I don’t bring them to my bed.” I nodded, though he couldn’t see me. “This is one of the biggest reasons I hated getting in this shit. Mike knows I don’t…” He shook his head. “I need my privacy and distance.”

  My heart ripped in my chest. “Do you want your privacy back? I can—”

  Raj jumped to his feet, crossed the room for his lounge pants. “Right now, I need some distance.”

  And seconds later, he left the bungalow in the darkness of the early morning.

  I sat down on the cool leather chair in the cabin, ready to get back home. A new magazine cover caught my eye and as I reached for it, I could see Wynter settling in her seat from my periphery. I yanked it open and thumbed through it. The sounds underneath the plane told me our luggage was being loaded, and soon we’d be lifting off. I couldn’t wait. I was tired. Drained after the early morning I had.

  I blindly scanned the pages of the magazine. Ignoring someone was hard when you couldn’t shut them out. I was the king of shutting my brain down to an environment I had to struggle through physically, needing an escape from mentally. I wanted to run, but the further away I got, the more I knew how much I’d be leaving out. With my chin to my chest, my eyes lifted across the cabin and I saw her swipe her hair over her ears as she looked at her iPad. I wanted to know what her eyes saw, what her heart felt, and what her mind screamed about me. Did she want to shut me out, too?

  After I left our bungalow this morning, I stayed out until it was time to pack for our flight. I showered, dressed, and was carrying my luggage and hers down the pier to the resort’s main house. I didn’t call for the concierge to do it. Didn’t call Danny G to either. I was ready to go. Wynter trailed behind me quietly the whole time.

  Jesus…

  I wanted to call Ezra. Needed to have him help me sort this shit out. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t call my friend about the bullshit I’d gotten myself into being selfish and manipulative. Plus, the first thing I needed to do was apologize for running from him, hurting him. And I wouldn’t do that because it would be admitting that I’d hurt him, and I’d never hurt someone who meant as much to me as he did. I was wrong when I said Wynter was the first new person I’d been able to trust since I was a kid. She had been the second.

  “Yo, you gotta minute?” I glanced up over my fitted brim. Danny G asked the moment he stepped on the jet. “Lemme rap to you for a minute.” He started to the back.

  After tossing the magazine, I got up and followed him all the way to the back, near the bathroom.

  “Yo, ya boy wildin’ the fuck out again.”

  “What you mean?” I asked.

  Danny G pulled his phone from his pocket. “This.”

  He hit play and at first a loud deathly scream came through. It was female. Then I heard scrambling on a floor. That’s when the image cleared to the living room of a house. Kids were screaming, crying, and running for cover. One man begged for his life as he was being tied up on the floor. Across from them was a dude in all black, holding an Uzi to the screaming woman’s head.”

  “You recognize her, right?” Danny G’s voice was more animated than I was used to.

  I shook my head no, because I didn’t.

  “That’s Sophia, True Blue’s second baby’s mother.”

  I tensed, forehead shot up as I watched the camera move to a third dude with all black, trashing the house, yelling at an elderly woman who it seemed had been pushed on the floor and kids who wrapped themselves around an available adult.

  “Shut her the fuck up!” the dude recording it all, demanded and turned the camera to Sophia.

  The one over her with the Uzi rammed the butt of it in her mouth. Blood skeeted all over and she passed out, knocking her head on the wall behind her. The old man squealed after being tied up and now gagged, since the camera had left him.

  “Now, you tell ya peoples, True Blue, he need to respect the game. His arms ain’t fast enough and his money ain’t long enough to play the beefin’ game.”

  Then the old Hispanic man was slapped with a gun by the guy who tied him up.

  The video froze, ending after that. My head went back as I took a long breath.

  “Fuck!” I croaked, keeping my voice low.

  “Yeah,” Danny G nodded. “And you caught that fuckin’ Brooklyn Nets cap, right?”

  I didn’t answer, but he knew I recognized Will, Mike Brown’s stupid ass security. I nodded, blinking as my mind ran with all this had meant. Mike had been laying low on True’s threats—it seemed. He played the silent game, knowing he’d been plotting to retaliate all this time.

  This meant war.

  The captain called for takeoff on the overhead and I handed Danny G back his phone before we took our seats.

  We pulled up to the back of the house on the golf cart. I grabbed our luggage and Wynter fell into step behind me, quietly. We hadn’t shared two words since four this morning when I ran out on her like a little kid. Sometimes, emotionally, that’s how I felt around her. I tried figuring out why I was so comfortable doing that on the close to four hour trip home. We past a few staff members, inc
luding Travis, one of my grounds guys who hopped in the cart to returned it to the garage.

  I opened one set of the French patio doors for her. After Wynter glided through, I followed. Before we could make it down the hall to the stairs, my grandmother and Earl walked out from the kitchen.

  “Welcome back, Mr. and Mrs. McKinnon,” Earl greeted professionally, which wasn’t his style.

  I nodded and Wynter responded in her feminine soprano tone, “Hi.” She bowed at the neck. “Thank you.”

  Grandmother smiled as she approached Wynter for a hug. “Welcome home, daughter.”

  “Thank you, Grandmother McKinnon.” Sincerity carried in her voice, making me wonder if Wynter was as cool with seeing my grandmother as I was—unusually.

  “God bless you, baby,” my grandmother whispered, as though in prayer.

  “Anything I can get for the man and/or first lady of the house before I retire for the evening?” Earl asked, his hands clasped together, shoulders stretched, and spine straight.

  Yeah… He was uncomfortable. He never queened in front of Pastor McKinnon. I almost busted out laughing at him, if it wasn’t for the pain growing at the back of my head. And I was hella tired, even though I wanted nothing more than to jump in the studio and polish a few tracks.

  “Nah. I’m good,” I answered.

  “Why are you taking off?” Wynter asked Earl.

  “Pastor McKinnon has requested the kitchen. I finished up early in there to give her, her space.” He smiled tightly.

  “Oh,” Wynter chirped.

  “You’re cooking?” I asked.

  My grandmother giggled, lifting her thick shoulders. “Well…” she hummed, “the Spirit of the Lord told me to start some chicken soup. I have no idea why. It’s gonna take a day to finish, but I’m gonna be obedient to His heeding.” She flashed her palms to shrug.

  Earl, behind her, walked away rolling his eyes.

  My grandmother didn’t even notice. “Well,” she sighed sweetly, also using her false soprano. “We gone let you two get settled in. I was praying all night for a safe return. If it’s God’s will, I’ll see you for dinner. If not, I know ya resting.” Then she turned and made her way back in the kitchen.

  Without a word, Wynter headed toward the stairs. A sharp pain ran through my chest that was louder than the one growing in my skull.

  Ughhh…

  I damn sure didn’t feel up to it, but alas, I was out here, running the track around the basketball and tennis courts. I woke up groggy, brain felt mushy, but I pushed through, seeing I hadn’t worked out since the hotel’s gym in Minnesota. My limbs were tight, thighs weightier, and stride slower as I circled around. Each time a foot dropped, it felt to have plopped on the padded pavement instead of pounced. My belly felt airy and light, which couldn’t be good.

  “Ohhhhh!” I cried into the thick, cold air as I drew to a stop.

  My body felt twenty pounds heavier, though I wasn’t. According the scale this morning, I’d lost another pound while away. Something was off and that quickly had me wanting to get back in bed as I headed back to the house, sweaty, throbbing, and panting like crazy. My plan of visiting Arnie and sharing with him our pictures from Saint Justin, knowing he wouldn’t spill a word of our secret rendezvous getaway, were officially derailed.

  But now…

  My head pulsated with a faint ache as I limped up the stairs of the massive back patio. When I made it into the house, the heavy smell of food and stream of music floating from the kitchen caught my attention. I plodded toward the right of the massive hall, nearing there. I peeked my head in and caught a jolting sight. As music played from a speaker on the counter where there was an array of fresh diced vegetables, the jarring act was Pastor McKinnon dancing in place with her head flinging backwards and forwards as she declared words of praise. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a person church-shouting. At least, that’s what I thought was the name of it.

  Too exhausted to even deal with it, I decided to continue upstairs. I slugged my way to the master suite, out of breath before I climbed the last step. I was surprised to see Raj stretched out in the bed after closing the doors. As I approached, I could see he was knocked out on his back. This was strange. We returned yesterday and I didn’t see much of him. He was out of bed this morning before me and apparently had returned in the same fashion.

  Again, I was too drained to try to figure that one out. I travelled to the walk-in closet and stripped of the heavy clothes, at least that’s how they felt. I crossed the room stark naked and shivering, determined to wash the sweat from my body before slipping back in bed. Feet away from the bathroom door, something propelled my attention toward the bed. Raj’s auburn eyes, strained and red stopped me in my tracks. Quickly, I continued my stride, remembering his stance to shut me out.

  After managing a quick shower, I was able to toss on a gown. By the time I made it to my side of the bed, my head was full on aching. Raj had rolled to the other side. His back was to me and based on his heavy breathing, he was out again. It didn’t take long for me to follow suit.

  ~19~

  Rustling roused me from my sleep. My eyes fluttered open and the first thing I realized was I was shrouded in darkness. I glanced over to the nightstand and saw it was after nine at night.

  Shit…

  I’d slept from ten in the morning to nine at night and still felt drained. And I was hot. Sooooo damn hot and drenched underneath the comforter. My body felt heavier than it did earlier, and my head vibrated with pain. All I could do was lay motionless and hope to fall back into the dark pit of sleep.

  “Yeah.” I keened my ear to the rustling voice again. “A fever reducer. I done sweated through my clothes.” I recognized Raj’s voice through the swelling of his chords. “Motrin’ll work.”

  I used all of my might to swing my right arm over the colossal bed and reach for him. I didn’t feel him at first, so I tried harder, though my body was weak. Once I felt him, I patted his arms then raised two fingers, unable to turn and look at him. Raj quieted for a few seconds.

  Then I heard him again. “Two doses—bring the whole bottle,” he murmured thick and warily. “Yeah. Wynter needs it. She been here sleep all day, too.”

  Too tired to do more, I drug my weighted arm back over and fell out.

  I was awakened by sounds again. After a few minutes of being dazed, I discovered it was Earl and Pastor McKinnon in the room.

  “Here you go,” Earl soothed, handing me two pills. I struggled to sit up, but managed. “And this,” he ordered, holding a glass of orange juice.

  Damn, the pills were hard to get down.

  “Oh,” Earl droned mockingly. “the lovers went away together and caught a bug. Get it? Love bug?”

  No one laughed. I, particularly, didn’t find it comical. I was sick for chrissake. I hated being sick! Van said I behaved like a baby.

  “Okay. I got some soup downstairs,” Pastor McKinnon announced from a distance. “It ain’t exactly ready, but it’s got healing power. I can bring up some for you to take.”

  “You hear that?” Earl touched my arm. “Would you like some?”

  I grunted my no, afraid to even speak, my throat was on fire. Apparently, Raj managed a no on the other side of the bed.

  “Well,” Earl exhaled in full on flare. “I guess that’s two no’s. Maybe we should…”

  I had no idea what was said after that. I went back out.

  Voices woke me from my sleep.

  Preaching?

  “Here,” I heard right next to me. It was Earl. “Put this under your tongue, so we can see what we’re up against.”

  It was a thermometer. As I slid my hand from underneath my pillow to grab it, I recognized the source of the other voice that woke me up. It was my grandmother praying. Widening the one eyelid I had open, I peeped her broad arms stretched in the air and her eyes squeezed closed as she petitioned Jehovah-Rapha.

  “We bless you, oh God, for healthy bodies in spite of the attack on them.
We thank you, oh Lord, for what you’re getting ready to do. We declare complete healing, God! For in your Word, it is declared that by the stripes Your only Son bore on the cross, God, we are healed.” She clapped hard and fast. “Aye! Hallelujah!”

  The thermometer was pulled from my mouth. My eyes snatched up, both open now to Earl. “Okay. Yours is higher than your bride’s, but you both still are running fevers.” He moved to the cart behind him. “Here’s your six a.m. dose.”

  Six? Ah, man…

  I forgot these two were early birds.

  “Gee-Gee, y’all need anything?” my grandmother asked. “I’ll be back up in a while with that soup. Now I know why the Spirit of the Lord prompted me to make it. See how God works and why we gotta be obedient?” Her hands clapped in excitement again and she fell back into prayer mode.

  As I swallowed back the pills, I listened to my grandmother speak in tongues, feeling comforted by her cadence. She was over at Wynter’s side of the bed, touching her feet as she prayed. Earl had seen my grandmother in action—heck, had walked in on me praying in the Spirit a few times, too, over the years. He was used to this. Wynter, on the other hand, was probably too out of it to react. Then again, I had to stop worrying about her judging, especially my grandmother. Wynter never really tripped on much unless you stepped on her toes. She was flexible and easy on lots of stuff.

  That’s why I’d been falling in love with her.

  My eyes strained open, prepared for the heavy pounding. I was surprised to not feel it as much as I had the morning before. My mouth was pasty and bladder was throbbing, so I forced myself to sit up. I pushed out of bed and made it to the bathroom, shivering all the way there. I was able to handle my business and wash my hands without feeling like I would pass out.

  As I walked out of the bathroom, my grandmother opened the door for Earl, who wheeled in the cart again. It was topped with food I could see, but not smell. Trembling with the chills, I slid right back into bed, but sat up against the headboard.