Like a Fly on the Wall

by Simone Kelly

  “Hi.”

  “Hello.” I licked my lips and then tried to think clean thoughts.

  I looked down and saw all thighs. Her skirt was up way high—almost to her hips. As if she’d sat down next to me without adjusting herself. Her thighs were thick and looked smooth. She could have done it by mistake, but it’s highly unlikely she didn’t feel the draft.

  I whispered, “What are you trying to do, get fired?”

  Chocolate Legs spoke softly, “No, not at all. I wanted to get your attention. I have a message for you.”

  I looked confused, so she cupped her hand around my ear. “Marguerite sent me.”

  My heart sank as goose bumps sprang up all over my arms and scalp. I pulled away quickly and looked into her eyes to see if I recognized her. “What? How?”

  She smiled and reached over to check my seat belt.

  We felt a strong jolt to the left and then up. The plane rocked violently. People screamed.

  “This is your captain speaking! We are going to make an emergency water landing. Flight attendants, please prepare for landing. Please prepare for landing!” Everyone continued screaming, fumbling under their seats, wishing they’d paid attention to the emergency instructions.

  The plane made a big thump and shook everyone. Bang, bang. Another flight attendant said over the speakers, “Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats. Fasten your seat belts.”

  Just then, we were shaken again, as if we were in a giant saltshaker. Bang, bang, bang. Oxygen masks came down, overhead bags slammed hard above, and some even fell out of the compartments. There were high-pitched yelps and screams from terrified passengers. I grabbed the arms of my chair and hung on tight.

  The flight attendant was calm as she put on her oxygen mask and then helped me adjust mine.

  She asked, “Can you swim?”

  I nodded my head and grabbed on tight to my seat as the plane started to drop. My heart was beating fast. Gravity’s pull sucked us in. I was surprisingly calm . . . until I fainted.

  The next memory I had was waking up to my chest heaving and my feet soaked in water. Cold water. The plane was floating, but seemed to be sinking in the water slowly. Outside a window, I saw a piece of the plane’s wing floating in the water with flames around it. There were heads bobbing up and down in the water, people scattered like fish—some with life jackets, some dog-paddling in a panic. I looked around and inside it was complete turmoil! Only a few people remained and some looked badly injured. The cabin was starting to fill up with water. I had to get out. Water was up to my knees now.

  I rushed to the doorway and heard splashing. I had to help a woman who seemed like she couldn’t swim. The exit door was beginning to fill up fast with water, so I dragged her to the door so we could both escape before we went down with the plane. She was a small woman. She started choking and flailing her arms and screaming. She drifted away from me. I saw only the back of her, so I grabbed a floatation device and dived in to get her.

  “Don’t panic, don’t panic. I’m right here, reach . . . reach for this.”

  Her hair was soaked and she turned around quickly.

  I screamed, “Mommy! How could you be here?”

  Her face was dripping wet, her makeup was running from her eyes, and she looked so lost and full of fear. “Save me, Jacques! Please save me.”

  My body jolted and I woke up in a sweat.

  The plane had just landed in Miami. “Mom?” I mumbled softly. I closed my eyes quickly, hoping I could fall back into my dream.

  I wanted just one more glimpse of her. It didn’t work. False hope. Though I did get what I’d wanted. I’d wanted her to come to me in a dream, but I should have been careful what I wished for since this sign was not good. The second we landed, I pulled out my phone to call Melissa the medium.

  Dreams tell stories that many of us ignore. Some say they are doors to other dimensions, past lives, or just our souls trying to alert us to something. The key to decoding them could unlock many mysteries.

  I’d been studying dreams since I was a teenager. Since my dad always came to me in dreams, I was always fascinated by them. I owned several dream dictionaries, from Islamic to Native American interpretations. There were so many ways to decipher dreams. I knew many of the symbols and along with my sixth sense guiding me, I knew the message of this dream was not good. My mother was not in a good place.

  To dream of planes, cars, trains . . . usually any form of transportation represented your life or the direction your life was going. A car going up a winding road in San Francisco might symbolize an uphill battle in your life and some obstacles you were facing. Water, too, could also represent your life. Clear, flowing water was usually a good omen. Dark murky water could be a sign of trouble ahead.

  Now this dream, if I had to decipher it all, it had the true makings of a nightmare. A plane crashing in dark murky water with people screaming and then seeing my mom asking for help was clearly a sign. The universe was on a mission to wake me up! She was crying out for my help. The pain in her eyes, the fear. It tugged at my heart. I woke up before I could help her. I couldn’t connect with her in my normal meditation trance, so I was going to have to go to another psychic-medium to help me. It was as if my subconsciousness was afraid to hear what she had to tell me. Maybe I didn’t really want to know what happened.

  Chapter 30

  Kylie

  I refused to call Chauncey. Yes . . . I know he and I went on only one date so far, and it seemed we had something nice brewing. He canceled our second date since he had had to leave town for work at the last minute. But I couldn’t shake the anger when I checked his profile page today. My throat and chest tightened when I saw him tagged in a Facebook picture. A girl was wrapped around him in this photo. He was sweating and laughing. It seemed as if they were dancing.

  He had told me he couldn’t get together this weekend because he was going to watch football with the fellas. Seems he had other plans. Again, he wasn’t my man, but we did speak about four to five times a week, sharing our days, and I really enjoyed his company.

  True was home and I had to tell somebody. “You ain’t gonna believe this shit, Mom!” She was in the kitchen cutting up veggies for her lunch tomorrow.

  “Oh no, what?”

  “Remember the cute guy I met online?”

  “Chauncey?”

  “Yes, Chauncey. This negro told me he was staying in on Sunday with the fellas or something, but instead it looks like he was hugging up on this fake Beyoncé chick at a party.”

  “Oh boy, see how they do? Facebook will get a fool busted.” She came over with a knife and carrot in her hand. “Lemme see this.”

  “Mom, I will bring the computer over there. You are dripping water.” I shooed her back to the kitchen. I got up and set the laptop on the counter.

  She squinted at the screen. “Oh nooo, this child has no edges! That long-ass ugly weave. It’s so tacky. You are way more classy, baby.”

  “You see her big J. Lo ass! It’s huge!” I scoffed with jealousy.

  “Please, that ain’t nothing but those nasty butt injections. You know how many of those I rub in a day at the spa? I can tell. She looks like a retired stripper. Look at the bags under her eyes. Isn’t it a white party? Why is she the only bitch in black?” She pointed to the screen. “It’s says white party in the album.”

  True knew how to make me feel better in her own way. She was the queen of shade. “Kylie, his loss. Don’t worry about it. Also, it’s just a picture, he’s not your man, so don’t stress. Get some more French fries. Why do you think I tell you to do that? This picture wouldn’t faze you if you had three other dudes. Looks like she tagged him. What’s her name, Le-Le ‘Boss Lady’ Robinson?” She snorted and went back to rinsing off her veggies.

  “Wait a minute. I think he might have had an ex with that name. I remember him talking about a Le-Le on one of our Skype dates.”

  “Click her page and see!”

  “I don’t f
eel like getting pissed off. It’s not really that he is dating other people, Mom, it’s that he lied.”

  True reached over and clicked her page. “Oops!”

  Her finger slipped and she liked a picture! I could die! “Mom, back up. Shit! Now this girl is going to know I looked at it.” I clicked it again and unliked it.

  Most of the photos were blocked, but two of them weren’t. They were of her and Chauncey lying in a hammock. It was two years ago, but my stomach took a violent punch, confirming what I dreaded. He was probably getting back with her.

  “Wait, ain’t he the one with the lesbian girlfriend?” Mom asked.

  “Well, he said she had a lesbian affair, but then wanted him back. But you know some of these chicks don’t be real lesbians. They just want to do what’s in.”

  “It’s interesting, I’ll say. I’ve had my share of threesomes and, well, foursomes and fivesomes.” She laughed. “But I could never do that full time. Dining on cootchie isn’t for me.”

  I held my hand up like a stop sign. “Really? Really? We said you would chill on the sex talk, remember? Act like my mom! You’ve traumatized me enough.”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot.” She continued packing away her lunch into Tupperware, giggling to herself. “Well, just lay low and see if he brings it up,” she advised. “He’s gonna know you saw it since you’ll be making love on chat in a few anyway. Why are you worried? Next! You can get someone else who lives closer!”

  I walked to the fridge and poured myself some guava punch.

  I thought about Breeze and how I really couldn’t talk to True about him. As much as I hated to admit it, he really was my fallback guy, my Big Mac. She knew Breeze was still in the picture, I’m sure, but we just never touched that subject.

  She continued, “I know what will make you feel better. Go on Match and find some new dudes to flirt with. I’ll help you, I need to practice.”

  “Practice? Your man Basim is coming back soon.”

  “You see a ring on this finger?” She wiggled an empty hand.

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Okaaaaay, then!” True shouted.

  That’s all I needed now was True . . . I mean my mom, online bringing men home. I’d rather find a new place before I helped her get into more trouble.

  Twenty minutes later I heard a ding! It was alerting me of an in-box message from Le-Le.

  I saw you liked my picture and it’s all good. Pretty bold move, I’d say. I knew about you already so not surprised. Let’s cut to the chase. I know you don’t know me and you probably only heard lies about me. But I think telling you the truth is the only way to stop Chauncey before he hurts anyone else.

  I have never been so disgusted by his lies until now. Chauncey forgetting to log off has always been his downfall. Yes, that is how I found out about you. I read all of your emails and chats to each other. Yes—all of them. I saw the pictures . . . and yes from many other women, not just you. I am assuming that when I left him is when he went searching online for my replacement.

  We did break up for a few months, but we recently got back together. He left that update out for you. Just letting you know that Chauncey and I have been having unprotected sex for years and I do not want to find out that I caught some shit from one of his chicks, so from one woman to another, you should cut him off. I assume you know he can’t keep it up with a condom on so you know he never uses them.

  I see he told you he was gonna be with the fellas in his last message. Lies. He was between my legs the entire time.

  I already know the rundown . . . He’s going to play the victim and call me the crazy ex, but facts are the facts. He keeps coming back. Although he’s done me dirty, I still love him. I know I sound stupid but it’s the truth. Deep down he is a good man, just emotionally fucked up. I’ve been here this long and I am his ride or die, his other half, and I’m not going anywhere. So take your chances. Leaving is your best option.

  Le-Le

  What the fuck?! Are you kidding me? My stomach was swirling. I know Chauncey told me she was a bit crazy and obsessive, but this shit was insane. I didn’t respond and immediately blocked her.

  I didn’t want to get my mom hyped up because she would make matters worse, so I went into my room and called Olivia. “Girl!”

  “Hey there, what’s up?”

  “I just got a damn email from Chauncey’s ex!”

  “What? Stop kidding? What did she say?” I heard plastic bags rattling in my ear. “Sorry for the noise. Just came in from Publix.”

  I read the entire email to her. Olivia said, “Wait, no condoms. Wow, that’s scary.”

  “You believe this bitch? I don’t know. Just seems like a bit much. If he was that much of a dog, why would her dumb ass stay with him?”

  “Because of exactly that. I have one word for you. Breeze!”

  “Whatever. Breeze can’t compare to this stuff. And for the record, Chauncey and I didn’t have sex, but shit . . . he was rubbing up on me. We came close.”

  “You know you can get herpes like that?”

  “Great, thanks, Liv.” I rolled my eyes as if she could see me.

  “What? You know one in five people have it? It’s really not the end of the world if you have it. About three of my mates back in London have had it for years.”

  “OLIVIA! I DON’T HAVE HERPES. Stop being such an alarmist.” I was between screaming and laughing at her paranoia.

  “Okay, okay . . . So what are you going to do, Kylie? Call him and let him know about his psycho woman?”

  “I want to see his face, I’ll probably do it via Facetime or Skype, since I want to see if I can tell if he’s lying.”

  “Why not just call Jacques? Helloooo! How many women can say they have a personal psychic in their circle? Use him! He can probably read that girl and find out if she is telling the truth in five minutes.”

  “Good idea, I will try to remember.”

  A few hours later, before I had the nerve to reach out, Chauncey texted me.

  CHAUNCEY: This is your late afternoon drive-by! Peeking in on you.

  KYLIE: Keep on driving. Wrong exit.

  CHAUNCEY: Huh? WTH does that mean?

  KYLIE: Oh, Skype me. We need to talk about it. Your boo Le-Le emailed me.

  Long pause . . .

  The phone rang.

  “Yes,” I said flatly.

  “What are you talking about, Kylie? My boo?”

  “Oh, Le-Le hit me up. I feel like I’m in the freaking eighth grade. I had to block her ass.”

  “What, Le-Le? How did she? Wait . . . she posted that photo today! I already took it down. It was an old photo. I forgot to block her.”

  “That wasn’t this weekend?”

  “Nooo, that wasn’t even this year, Kylie. Listen, she is full of drama, why do you think I have been lying low for a while and not dating? She can’t take rejection and just keeps coming for me. I needed to decompress from all of her shit. I’m really sorry that she contacted you. Please do not entertain her. It’s so beneath us. We’re building something special and I’m loving your vibe, you know that. Don’t let her mess with your mind,” he pleaded.

  “But wait. . . . She knew things that she shouldn’t have known. About us, things you told me.”

  “Fuck, I already know. She is always hacking into shit. Well, it was partly my fault. I changed my password, but I didn’t change my hints and she knew all of them. Fuck!” He slammed something down hard. “I know she did all of this shit yesterday. She called me tripping, trying to get back together again, and she said ‘no problem,’ she had something planned for me and I would have no choice. I had no idea it was this shit!”

  Made me think of all of the spy programs I had access to. Le-Le probably used something similar to hack into his accounts. I had to ask, “She kept talking about you not using condoms. Like you were some ho out there screwing everything. Is that true?”

  “What! Hell no, of course I do. Use condoms, that is. Come on! With her I didn�
��t for a while, but we were exclusive. Trust me, I’m gooood. When you are ready we can get tested together for everything. You don’t have to worry, Kylie. I’m so sorry. This is so childish.”

  I actually believed him, even though I would rather have seen his body language for confirmation, like Vince’s been teaching me. . . . I felt he was just caught up with a crazy bitch.

  It always troubled me to know a solid and seemingly grounded guy could pick a crazy chicken-head like that. I mean . . . how could you miss those signs? I’ve seen it one too many times, a good-looking, educated, and well-rounded brother pulling out his hair for a crazy gold-digging chick who is “in love with him.” Well, they think it’s love.

  I figured as long as he put that chick in check and she was now blocked, it wouldn’t happen again. I decided to let it slide for now, but my radar was up.

  Chauncey tried to get off the Le-Le topic. “I want to see you this weekend. Want to meet in Naples? I found a really nice dinner cruise. That way we both only have to drive two hours.”

  Only two hours? Humph! But . . . I did want to see him again, too.

  “Okay, cool.” Even though his past was full of drama, I felt Chauncey had a good heart. He must be doing something right since Madame Butterfly couldn’t stop thinking about our little peekaboo game. Breeze was still a possibility, but until I had a true Big Mac step up to the plate, French fries it would be.

  Chapter 31

  Jacques

  When I got home to warm Coconut Grove, the box of journals were waiting for me in my home office. To save time, I figured Kylie and Vicky could help put more of the pieces together. It would take me days to go through them all by myself. Besides, I thought it would be a great way for Vicky and Kylie to meet and connect. Vicky might end up being a good mentor to Kylie since she was new to the investigative world.

  It was a Friday night and Kylie headed over to my place right over after work. When I opened the door, she hugged me and smiled gently. She smelled very good—earthy, like a mix of essential oils.

  “How are you, Jacques?”