by Rita Ewing
He lifted himself from the chair, grasping the edge of the desk, just in case. When he felt steady, he moved forward, but he’d taken only two steps before the pain punched him. He reached for the frame of the chair, but collapsed to the floor. It took minutes for him to rise to his knees, then to a complete stand. Using the back of his hand, he wiped the saliva that seeped from the corners of his mouth.
There was no way he could do this without help. He needed the drugs. He’d take them, just a little bit at a time, until he was well.
“This is best,” he said as he grabbed the telephone. He repeated that thought over and over as he dialed, then listened to the ringing on the other end.
“It’s me,” Allen said when the phone was answered. The baritone snicker that came from the other end made Allen want to slam down the phone. But the ache that held its place in his side kept his grip on the receiver.
“So what is it this time?” the voice asked.
Allen took a deep breath. “I need–”
“I know what you need.” The chuckles continued. “Drop by this afternoon. What time–”
“Allen.” Nona swept into his office with only a perfunctory knock on his door.
He slammed down the phone without saying good-bye. “Uh, I was just making a call,” he stammered.
Nona frowned.
“I mean, I’m finished now.”
He could see the questions in her eyes. The way shetilted her head, he knew she was wondering why he was explaining.
“I’m sorry, do you want me to come back?” she asked.
“No,” he said, waving his hand. “Come on in.” He hoped she didn’t notice the tentative steps he took around his desk before he sat. “How did the meeting go with Derrick?”
She sighed as she slumped into one of the chairs in front of him. “Painful.” She shook her head. “The video is supposed to be a good thing. But working with Derrick is no different than working with those assholes that we have to face from the Harlem Empowerment Office.”
“Maybe he’ll be good practice for facing those assholes,” Allen said.
It took a moment for the ends of Nona’s lips to slip into a smile. “You’re right about that.” But a second later, her smile faded, replaced by a grimace of apprehension.
Allen took a breath before he stood and moved to sit next to Nona. “You know we’re gonna win this, right?”
She shook her head. “I’m gonna fight, but–”
He squeezed her hand, stopping her. “Don’t even think about anything except winning. I promise you, Brickhouse will be standing and you’ll be victorious. No matter what I have to do.”
The return of her smile made his return too. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Do you know how much I depend on you?”
He hugged her. “I’ll always be here, Nona. I’ll never let you down.” He closed his eyes and prayed that the words he uttered were true.
nine
The grandfather clock in the corner of the office chimed twelve times. Anna raised her glasses from the bridge of her nose and rubbed her eyes. She couldn’t believe she’d been working for six hours. She’d risen with the sun, expecting to be finished by nine so that she could dash to Nona’s Saturday class. But she hadn’t lifted her head from the Children’s Literacy Outreach proposal until now.
She squeezed her eyes tight, and smiled. It felt good to have this kind of passion back in her heart. The ends of her lips turned down just a bit at that thought. Much of her love of life had died with Todd. But as each month passed nudging her into the future, the past didn’t hurt as much. She felt as if she were being slowly resurrected. It was time for her to rejoin life in every way, and with this program, she’d be making a difference in the lives of the most important people on earth–the children.
She slipped her eyeglasses back in place and glanced through the pages of notes she’d written with the input she received from Nona, Leila, and Toni last week. “Okay,” she said, pleased. “All I need to do now is make suggestions for the board.”
She pushed aside the papers on the desk, searching for another notepad. Not finding one, she stood and walked across the room. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worked in Anthony’s office. The room was gloomy and heavy with the dark oak, oversized desk, credenza, and file cabinets. And Anthony always kept the window blinds closed. It was the most depressing space in Gracie Mansion.
But today this was paradise. Far away from Anthony, who always used Saturdays as his days to sleep in–and then requested that she service him, demanding either their once-a-week sex session or a three-course breakfast.
But she didn’t feel like being a wife in either way this morning. The literacy proposal had to be complete today so that she could begin sending out the corporate letters Monday.
Anna slid open the cabinet where Anthony kept his supplies. She pushed aside the file that sat atop the pile of notepads, but then frowned as she noticed “Harlem” scribbled across the folder’s width. Leaving the drawer open, she took the file with her to the desk. She sat as she glanced through the papers, her eyes widening with each turn of the page.
“This is what Nona was asking me about,” she whispered.
Her eyes scanned the pages, moving at a rapid pace. Each page was a shocker, but it was the letter at the back that left her with her mouth open.
“Reverend Watkins?” she said aloud. She read the letter twice. “Oh, my God.”
“Anna, where are you?”
She jumped at her husband’s voice, then stuffed the papers she held back inside the folder.
“Anna.”
Anthony’s voice was getting closer. She didn’t have time to return the folder to the cabinet. She pushed the manila file underneath the pad with her notes.
“Anna.”
“I’m in the office,” she yelled out.
A few seconds later, he appeared at the door. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
She shook her head. “No,” she said, hoping he didn’t notice the squeak in her voice.
He squinted before he stepped into the office. “What are you doing in here?”
“Working.” She paused and noticed the file cabinet drawer she’d left open. “On my proposal,” she added quickly.
He was still frowning when he handed her the cordless phone. “It’s Nona.”
“Okay,” she said, taking the phone with trembling hands. “Thanks.” She waited until he stepped out of the office before she breathed. It took a few more breaths before she lifted the receiver to her ear.
“Hello,” she said as she exhaled and rushed to the file cabinet.
“Hey, girl. Just checking on you. Missed you this morning.”
“I was working on the literacy proposal.” Anna slammed the file cabinet shut and then slumped into the chair behind the desk.
“That’s great. I can look over the proposal for you, if you’d like.”
“That would be terrific.”
“By the way, did you ask Anthony about the rezoning project?”
Anna sat up and glanced at the folder on the desk filled with pages of information–everything that Nona needed. “No, I haven’t had the chance to talk to him.”
“I don’t mean to be a pest, it’s just that the first public meeting is on Monday.”
“Really?” Anna said, fondling the folder between her fingers. “I didn’t realize it was that soon.”
Nona sighed. “Reverend Watkins is rushing this through, and I’m going to need all the help I can get.”
Anna paused. “Nona, do you really think you could lose Brickhouse?” she asked, staring at the folder in her hand.
“I don’t know, Anna. I’m trying my best to fight this … and to keep a positive attitude at the same time.”
Anna slipped the last page from inside the folder and scanned the letter. “I promise, I’ll talk to Anthony.”
“Thanks, Anna.”
“And, Nona …” She paused as she stared at the
paper in front of her. “I have a feeling that you’re going to be fine.”
“Can I get that in writing and then send it up to God?” Nona chuckled.
“You never know. I just might be able to get that in writing for you. I’ll speak to you later.”
Anna read through the pages once again before she replaced the folder. She’d wait for Anthony to leave the house on his way to one of his many meetings or whatever he did to fill his day. Once he was gone, she’d make copies. Then she’d plan her strategy.
It wasn’t even a choice for her. Anna knew who held her loyalty. When she went to Nona, and when she gave her friend what she needed, Anna was going to make sure that Nona had a fully loaded gun.
ten
“Promise you’ll call the moment you get out of the meeting,” Anna said.
Nona smiled. She really did have good friends. Toni and Leila had both phoned this morning with the same request.
“I will.”
“I mean it, Nona,” Anna urged. “I need to know everything that happens in there.”
Nona’s eyebrows rose in surprise at her friend’s tone. “What’s going on, Anna? Has Anthony told you something?”
“No, no,” her denial came quickly. “It’s just that I’m praying for you and want to know everything so that … I can know what to say to Anthony.”
Nona frowned, only half believing her friend. “Okay, I’ll call you when I get out.”
It still took a few minutes for Nona to reassure Anna, and when Nona hung up, she wondered what was behind the stress she heard in Anna’s voice.
By the time Nona walked downstairs and into the kitchen, her thoughts about Anna’s phone call had been re-placed with thoughts about the meeting. She’d been to public hearings before, but never one that affected her so personally. She couldn’t imagine what this meeting would yield. There would be only two meetings for the public–a month apart. Today was the first one, but she knew very well the stage could be set. Today could be the beginning of her losing everything–everything that was important to her.
“Morning, Mom,” Kelly chirped with a smile that stretched to her ears. She was sitting at the kitchen table with Odessa.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” Nona kissed her daughter’s forehead and eyed the small bowl of half-eaten oatmeal that sat in front of her.
“I was just telling Odessa about Ms. Lee’s movie. It’ll be my first premiere, you know.”
Nona laughed. “Well, how do you know I’m going to let you go?”
Kelly stood up and wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist. “Because you’re the best mother in the whole world. And almost two weeks have passed and you haven’t said no. And you know that I can handle this. And you’re the best mother in the whole world.”
This time Odessa joined in the laughter. “Well, you’re right…” Nona said.
“Yippee.” Kelly cheered and jumped in the air as if she were an NBA cheerleader.
“I am the best mother in the whole world.”
Kelly paused. “But what about the premiere? Can I go, Mom … please?”
The skin in Nona’s forehead creased as if she were in deep thought. She lowered her eyes. “Well … I’ve decided …” She paused and looked at her daughter through her long lashes. “You can go to the premiere.” Kelly’s cheers returned, and even Odessa clapped.
“I love you so much, Mommy.” Kelly hugged Nona.
“I love you too, baby. Now finish your breakfast so that you can get to school.”
“Okay, Mom,” she said, returning to the table. She stirred the oatmeal in the bowl. “I am so excited.”
As Kelly chatted about the premiere with Odessa, Nona filled a bowl with granola. She smiled as she sat at the table with Odessa and Kelly, but her face belied the thoughts in her head.
What would she do if she lost Brickhouse? It was as much a part of her as the blood that coursed through her veins. Brickhouse kept her alive.
“Mom, do you think I could have a new dress for the premiere?”
Nona nodded as she took a sip of her juice. “Of course; we’ll go shopping for both of us.”
She spoke as if she were listening, but she couldn’t shake the overwhelming thoughts that rattled inside her head. She didn’t know what she was going to say at this meeting. Over the last two weeks, she’d contacted other Harlem businesses that would be affected. But no one shared her concern.
“Oh, Ms. Nona,” the lady who owned the Orient Express, the largest Chinese restaurant in Harlem, exclaimed. “I’m so happy to go into the mall. They said I could have six months’ free rent. Lots of people will come and I will make lots of money.”
Mr. Robertson, whose family had owned the cleaners on Frederick Douglass Boulevard for more than fifty years, told her, “I’m going to take the buy-out package, Nona. I’m seventy years old and this is perfect timing. My wife and I are headed down to Florida.”
And B.J., the owner of the most popular soul food restaurant in the city, had said, “Girlfriend, I couldn’t believe the tax break they’re offering. And did you know I’d been thinking about buying my building? Girl, I’m so glad that I just sat still and waited on the Lord because clearly this rezoning is a blessing straight from Reverend Watkins and heaven.”
Nona had almost choked after B.J.'s comments. But by the time she spoke to other retailers, she was gagging. The moving incentives, plans for residential redevelopment, buy-out packages, and tax incentives had Harlem’s business owners leaping as if they’d won the lottery. But maybe that was because no one else was losing a forty-thousand-square-foot facility.
Her next step was to approach the politicians she’d worked with over the years, but not one had returned her calls.
“They know why you’re calling,” Allen had said. “Everyone believes Harlem East is going to mean big things for Harlem. The word is Harlem East is going to revitalize this area in a way nothing else can.”
What was she supposed to do?
All she had were a few friends and a few thousand members of Brickhouse–half of whom didn’t even live in Harlem. How was she supposed to stop Reverend Watkins’s speeding locomotive? A sudden vision hit her. In her mind, she saw a train, Reverend Watkins, train tracks, and thick braided rope, the kind that was used to anchor a boat–or strap someone down. She smiled.
“Mom, can I?”
It took a couple of seconds for Nona to mentally return to the kitchen. “I’m sorry, honey, what did you say?”
“I said some of my friends are taking the train home from school today. Can I ride with them?”
Horror contorted her face. She shook her head to erase the image that just seconds ago she had enjoyed. “No. Odessa will pick you up.”
“Oh, Mom,” Kelly whined. “It’s just a couple of train stops.”
Nona held up her hand. “Remember the premiere.”
Her mouth had been open, ready for her next protest, but Kelly locked her lips together and smiled. She leaned over and kissed Nona’s cheek.
“Have a good day,” Nona said. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Mom,” Kelly began softly. “I can tell that you’re really worried, but you don’t have to be. I prayed a lot last night, and everything is going to be all right.”
Nona dropped her spoon into her bowl, then hugged her daughter. She never wanted Kelly exposed to the challenges of her business, but she couldn’t imagine anything better this morning than having those words from her daughter.
“Thank you, sweetie.” She hugged Kelly as if she didn’t want to let go.
When she leaned back, Kelly grinned. “You’ll get this over with today, and then it’ll be all about you and me and the premiere.”
Nona laughed. It could never be that simple. But maybe, just maybe, with Kelly’s prayers, it would be.
Nona stood at the top of the concrete steps and took a quick glance at her watch again. When she looked up, she exhaled as Allen sprinted toward her.
“Sorry I’m late
,” he said, breathing as if he’d just run ten miles.
“That’s okay.” Nona smiled, but as she stared at her friend, her grin disappeared. She rested her hand on his arm. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead and loosened the blue paisley-print tie that choked his neck. “It’s just this suit and being late. Sorry.”
She nodded. “I guess you just look like I feel.” She smiled and leaned over as if she were about to share a secret. “But don’t worry. We have Kelly’s prayers.”
Allen chuckled and put his arm around Nona’s shoulders. But their fleeting cheer dissipated the moment they stepped through the oversized glass doors of the 125th Street building. The Harlem Empowerment section of the New York City Zoning Commission had moved from the Empire State Building offices into this building that was best known for housing former President Clinton.
As soon as she stepped off the elevator on the sixth floor, the dull ache began at the edges of her brain. With each passing second the pounding increased until even her toes pulsed. She closed her eyes for a moment as they approached the zoning offices that occupied almost half of the floor. At the doors with the gold letters that read “Harlem Empowerment,” Allen squeezed Nona’s hand. “Let’s do this.”
“I almost feel like we need to pray first.”
Allen chuckled and opened the door. Inside, the receptionist led them to the conference room.
Nona had been in these offices for other hearings when the room was packed. Today the seven chairs around the conference table were occupied by the committee members, but the seats that had been set up for the interested public were empty–except for one, where a single reporter from the Amsterdam News slouched in one of the folding chairs.
Nona sighed. It was worse than she expected. With no time to garner support from the community and little chance of any businesses coming to her side, she hoped there was a miracle waiting inside Kelly’s prayers.
“Don’t worry,” Allen said as if he could feel her waning confidence.