His Last Wife

by Grace Octavia

  “I am happy to be here to see you. Your home is wonderful. So beautiful. I support you—I mean this. But I have not—”

  “That is all we have time for,” Brother Krishna said, much louder and overpowering Kerry’s speech.

  Nzingha expeditiously grabbed her arm and pulled her back from the Juliet.

  Brother Krishna quickly closed the doors.

  “What the hell was that?” Val snapped as soon as the doors were closed.

  “Why did you say that?” Kerry followed up, looking at Brother Krishna. “That I saw Jamison? I haven’t seen him. And I don’t know anything about what you’re preparing for. What was that? Why wouldn’t you let me speak?”

  “I will explain in time,” Brother Krishna said.

  “No! We need to know right now, because this is some bullshit,” Val said. “What’s going on here? You just lied to those people. All of them. Kerry hasn’t seen Jamison.”

  “But they needed to hear that,” Nzingha spoke up, but Brother Krishna shot a stare at her that silenced anything further.

  “What?” Kerry asked. “What does that mean?”

  “What Sister Nzingha means to say is that we had some confusion with our scheduling today and the people were expecting the Oba to be here to greet you. So, we merely needed you to say that so they weren’t troubled,” Brother Krishna tried to say nonchalantly, but he was clearly covering something up.

  “That doesn’t even sound right. Look, I’m from Memphis and I’ve known the best liars with the best lies and that didn’t even come close. You need to come harder to impress me,” Val said, getting up in Brother Krishna’s face, but then Nzingha made it clear that whatever Val thought she was going to do to him wasn’t going to happen without her stepping in.

  “Oh, you want some too?” Val said. Any Buckhead bourgeoisie Val had garnered during her days as the first lady of Atlanta were gone from her then. She was pointing her index fingers at their foreheads and everything.

  Luckily, Kerry was there to calm her.

  “Wait! Wait!” Kerry tried. “I don’t think you understand. I am not here to speak to your people or to help them. I am here to find Jamison Taylor. I was told he was here and that’s it. When will I see him?”

  “In time, my sister. You must believe,” Brother Krishna said, trying to take Kerry’s hand.

  “I need a definite date and time. I came all this way and I need to see him. Now,” Kerry said firmly.

  “Let’s get out of here, Kerry,” Val said. “These people are fucking crazy.”

  “Excuse your words, sister,” Nzingha ordered Val.

  “I have something for you to excuse,” Val said.

  “When?” Kerry posed again loud enough to stop their bickering.

  “Tomorrow,” Brother Krishna said nervously. “Tomorrow will be the time.”

  Back at the hotel, Val and Kerry were sitting on the bed in Val and Ernest’s room explaining what had happened at the compound in words that sounded like something out of a science-fiction movie. Not one part of it sounded real—well, maybe the part about Val cursing the holy man out. Ernest sat on the small pullout couch, trying to keep up with it all.

  “It was just fast. I was standing there and then he said—he claimed I’d seen Jamison,” Kerry explained to Ernest.

  “Why would he do that?” Ernest asked.

  “Because he’s fucking nuts. Because they were all nuts,” Val said.

  “Did you think the same thing, Kerry?” Ernest posed, trying to ignore one of Val’s outbursts.

  “Not crazy. Different. They were different.”

  “Different? Please. Dude was up in there talking equality for all, when he was in the big-ass building with air-conditioning and three teenage girls running around behind him.”

  “So?” Kerry said to Val.

  “So, did you see his nails? He ain’t building no houses. He ain’t working in no fields, and I doubt those girls are just feeding him fruit and putting flowers around his neck. I know Nzingha ain’t.”

  “I doubt that,” Kerry said.

  “Humphf.”

  “Anyway,” Kerry continued. “The main thing was that they said Jamison was there. So, different or weird or crazy, that’s all I care about. That’s why I came. Right?” She looked at Val to remind her of the little speech she’d given Kerry before they left for the compound.

  “Right, but that still doesn’t get to what the deal was there. And where was Baba Seti?” Val added.

  “He wasn’t there?” Ernest said.

  “No. Well, maybe. No one was really talking about him. It was like he didn’t exist. I don’t know and I’m too exhausted to worry about it.” Kerry rubbed her forehead and got up from the bed. “Let me go to this room and see about this little boy. I know he’ll be looking for me soon.”

  “I doubt it,” Ernest said. “He was pretty tired when we got in from the beach. Little buddy went hard in the water. Fun kid.”

  “Really?” Kerry asked. The whole time she’d been away she’d been worrying about him, wondering if he’d started asking for her or crying.

  “Yeah. I took him to the restaurant downstairs to get a little dinner before we came upstairs and he was going on and on about how much he loves it here. He asked me if people live here or if it’s just for vacation. That little guy asks some interesting questions. You know he asked me if I knew his father? I told him no, but that I heard he was a great mayor who did a lot for Atlanta. He told me he loved the beach so much because he remembered his father taking him to a beach just like the one here.”

  Kerry held back tears as she stood there at the door listening to Ernest recounting his time with Tyrian. She remembered that trip Jamison took Tyrian on. Just the two of them went to the Dominican Republic after the divorce. Kerry told Jamison she felt he hadn’t been spending enough time with him and Jamison booked the trip. He’d called it the boys’ trip. When they got back, every single picture Jamison had taken on Tyrian’s iPad was on the beach.

  When Kerry got back to her room that night, she opened the blinds at the window and got into bed with Tyrian. She sang a song Thirjane used to sing to her when she was just a girl and longed for the past when things weren’t simpler, but just the same.

  The next day, after a long breakfast that included strategizing how they’d function when they returned to the compound, Ernest decided to accompany Val and Kerry, so Tyrian did have to stay with Anna at the hotel. While Kerry calmed herself preparing him for her departure, the little boy easily left her side again.

  Yuxnier was waiting in the lobby, ready to dispatch the threesome back to the Fihankra.

  In the backseat of the car, Val looked through her cell phone, checking the same blogs she’d read the day before and for sure she found images and recordings of her and Kerry arriving at the compound the day before and even more history presenting Kerry standing there on the Juliet with Brother Krishna. Headlines were more shocking: KERRY JACKSON CONFIRMS JAMISON TAYLOR IS ALIVE AND LIVING IN CUBA. One image had made it to the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, the largest newspaper in circulation in Georgia. The articles about it on the AP wire were national. Kerry’s face was everywhere. In the pictures she was smiling and looked like she supported whatever the headline dictated. Even the video made it seem as if she was in agreement with everything Brother Krishna had said on the balcony. When she’d waved to the woman with the baby in the audience, it was made to look like she was holding out a Black Power fist. Kerry looked like a new revolutionary.

  Val passed her the phone.

  “What is this?” Kerry asked as she looked through. “Who is doing this?”

  The gates at the checkpoints they’d passed just hours ago were now fully decorated and prepared for their return. Yuxnier drove right through with no problem and at the final checkpoint, they allowed the car to pass and continue on to the main building before the obelisk.

  The crowd was thicker still. And the plain, working clothing everyone had been wearing was repl
aced with all kinds of cultural celebratory gear and headdresses.

  Yuxnier, who hadn’t been allowed inside the day before, and Ernest looked out of the window in awe. Somehow, Ernest thought, everything the women had explained in what sounded like lies was so true. Now he worried about how he could sum this all up to share with someone else.

  The people flooded the car and the chanting from the day before continued. Yuxnier had to drive slowly, near a crawl, to ensure that he didn’t hit any of the spectators.

  “What is that? What are they cheering?” Ernest asked.

  “Queen,” Kerry said. “It’s what they named me.”

  At the wooden doors, Nzingha was waiting in red with the three girls beside her. When Kerry, Val, and Ernest got out of the green Beetle, the girls ran up to them and placed the new flowers around their necks.

  Nzingha nodded to them, but there was some hesitation in her smile. Val noted it, but she couldn’t explain it to herself.

  Again, they entered the wooden doors. Tables were covered with food and flowers so lovely it was hard not to touch. However, socializing or even eating was not in the mission the threesome had devised over breakfast. They were to go there and demand to see Jamison. That was all. That was it.

  “Please eat,” Nzingha said, pointing to the tables.

  “We ain’t hungry,” Val said directly, but Ernest had already forgotten the plan and was eating a piece of pineapple that was the sweetest he’d ever had. Val shot a stare at him. “Really? Really?”

  “Oh, don’t trouble the brother. He is just eating our good food,” Nzingha said.

  “Mind your business,” Val said. “And where is Jamison? That’s why we are here. Not to eat. We just came for what we were promised.”

  Kerry stood beside Val, nodding along.

  “In time,” Nzingha said, ushering them through the pleasantries. Again, Val sensed her little hesitation, a slight distance in her voice. Val still couldn’t explain it to herself, but she just knew something was wrong.

  Nzingha led them to another room, this one just as big as Brother Krishna’s office, but less cozy. There were seats in a row that made it look like maybe the room was a classroom or some kind of study room.

  “What is this?” Kerry asked. “Is this where Jamison is coming?”

  “Have a seat,” Nzingha said. She pointed to the chairs in a row and left the room, closing the doors behind her.

  “Something isn’t right,” Val said. “And I know it. I can sense it.” She didn’t take the seat Nzingha had offered her. In fact, none of them did.

  Ernest went over to the bookcases at the back of the room and read titles of what looked like legal manuals and guides.

  “Well, she did say Jamison was here,” Kerry said, but in her voice it was clear that she’d sensed Nzingha’s change. “Let’s just see—”

  The doors of the room opened again and Baba Seti walked in, wearing the work clothes the others had been in the day before. His kufi was gone.

  “Baba Seti,” Kerry said when he walked in. “Where have you been?”

  “I apologize for my absence, sister,” he said. “I have been with my people preparing. And now you’re here, so we are ready.”

  “Bump all that, why don’t you try explaining how all of those pictures were taken of us at the airport and yesterday?” Val asked. “And then you put them up on your blog with all of these lies about us and why we’re here?”

  “It is a part of the preparation,” Baba Seti said. “I apologize if you saw it as anything else. You will soon understand. All of you will.”

  “What is the preparation you keep talking about?” Ernest asked.

  “The return,” Baba Seti answered.

  “Do you mean Jamison? Because he’s coming here?” Kerry asked.

  “Yes.”

  Kerry smiled and looked at Val. The smile wasn’t returned. Val instead looked at Ernest, concerned for what Kerry wasn’t seeing or didn’t want to see.

  “Where is he?” Kerry asked. “Is he near? Is he close? Is he in this building?”

  “He is everywhere,” Baba Seti said. “All around us. The ora. Yes.”

  Nzingha stepped into the room and gave Baba Seti a nod.

  He smiled and took Kerry’s hands. “It is time, my sister. He is here.”

  “Really? Really?” Kerry said.

  “Really?” Val said with less cheer and more surprise. “Really?”

  “Yes. Please have a seat.” Baba Seti stood there and pointed at the chairs until Kerry and then Ernest and then Val, who held out the longest, would sit.

  Outside the crowd was cheering “Ora!” so loud it sounded as if the windows would burst. This chorus flooded Kerry’s heart with expectation. She was red on the inside. Her heart was aflutter.

  Babe Seti left them to go to the door. He opened it and Kerry immediately popped up, ready to see Jamison.

  “Jamison!” she screamed ahead of herself before anyone walked in.

  Then there were footsteps. The sound of a man’s shoes against the floor.

  Val stood too, trying to get a look.

  And then, in walked Brother Krishna.

  Kerry looked past him and repeated, “Jamison?”

  “Hello, Sister Torkwase,” Brother Krishna said, walking and standing in front of Kerry.

  She kept looking over his shoulder and calling for Jamison.

  “Where is he?” she said to him finally. “Where?”

  Baba Seti closed the door.

  “Won’t you please have a seat? All of you?” Brother Krishna said. By then Ernest was on his feet too.

  “No!” Kerry hollered. “Where is he? You said he was here!”

  “Please sit,” Baba Seti said.

  “I won’t sit! You promised me him! Where is he?” Kerry was entering into a rage. The red of love inside of her had turned to fire.

  “Where is he?” Val asked. “You said Jamison would be here. That’s why we came.”

  “Sisters. Please sit,” Brother Krishna offered again.

  “Come on, y’all,” Ernest said, pulling an irate Kerry and angry Val to the seats.

  “Where is he?” Kerry asked, crying.

  “The ora is dead. He died,” Brother Krishna said.

  Baba Seti bowed his head.

  “What?” Kerry said. “But you said—” She looked at Baba Seti. “You told me he was alive. You told everyone he was alive. You lied?”

  “Oh, no.” Val was ready to get up and walk out. Of course, she’d expected this the entire time, but she’d done it all to support Kerry and finally really did hope this wasn’t going to be the truth.

  “Sister, he is dead,” Baba Seti said. “He died that day on the roof. The day you were with him.”

  “But he was planning to join us here,” Brother Krishna added with so much sincerity in his voice, it now was clear that he was from Brooklyn. “He gave us money. He paid for all of this. Even gave us money when he died and we get a check every month.”

  Val knew then that they were finally telling the truth. She took Kerry into her arms and patted her head.

  “He really believed in our movement, you know? He helped bring so many people to us, to the Fihankra, when he died, we thought we were finished,” Brother Krishna said. “But then Baba Seti started writing about him and people believed it.”

  “Believed what?” Ernest asked.

  “That he wasn’t dead,” Baba Seti said.

  Kerry’s cries and whimpers were heard under the explanation.

  “Then we started thinking, maybe he wasn’t dead. Like, not his spirit,” Brother Krishna said.

  “Do you know what Brother Jamison was doing for black men in Atlanta? What his potential was in this world?” Baba Seti asked. “He was going to be the next Malcolm X. He was about to reveal to everyone the truth about the government and tell them what they needed to do to finally get free. Then he was going to lead us all to the Fihankra, then we’d prepare for the war. The fight.”

&n
bsp; “You think that’s why whoever killed him did it?” Ernest asked.

  “We don’t know. We don’t think anyone ever will. Rumors say the FBI. But there’s no way of knowing that,” Baba Seti explained.

  “Why would you lie to me? Lead me here when you knew this was all a hoax?” Kerry asked through her tears.

  “When I got your e-mail, I realized it was the final confirmation that what I was doing was right. With you aboard we could convince everyone that he was still alive and here and then we could somehow allow him to die and you could replace him,” Baba Seti revealed.

  “Me?” Kerry said, lifting her head from Val’s shoulder.

  “We’ve been watching you,” Baba Seti said. “We all have.”

  Nzingha stepped into the room.

  “We think you may be the one to unite all of the Fihankras around the world. To bring more people to us,” Nzingha said.

  “We know it is a lot to ask,” Brother Krishna added. “Me, Nzingha, and Baba Seti, we are the only ones who know. But we think it will work.”

  “No,” Kerry said, shaking her head. “No. Not this. No. No.” She looked at Val. “No. He was alive. He’s not dead.”

  “Please consider helping us,” Nzingha said. “It’s for our people. We can do great things.”

  “No,” Kerry cried.

  “Let’s go,” Val said, taking her hand.

  “Please don’t go,” Baba Seti begged, chasing behind them as Val walked Kerry to the door.

  But Ernest and all of his size jumped between him and the women. “Don’t,” Ernest said definitively. “You don’t want to do that.”

  Back in the Beetle with Yuxnier, there were no I-told-you-so’s. Mostly silence and comforting.

  It was like the ride in Jamison’s funeral car Kerry never got to take because she was in jail. While there was no rain outside, inside, she was in a storm. She leaned her head against the window and poured her soul into the tough work of accepting what she’d already always known. What she didn’t want to admit. What had kept her searching and sad. She needed to say good-bye.

  Chapter 15

  Between night and morning, the sun was busy beginning the complicated work of creating a horizon. Kerry was awake. Maybe she hadn’t even gone to sleep. She was standing by the window looking out at the spectrum of color in the sky that was emanating from a sun she couldn’t yet see, but knew was there. It was tucked away beneath the darkness that was becoming too weak to keep it below for much longer. It occurred to her then of how particularly peculiar it was that people rose to watch the sun rise. It was never a surprise. It was never a maybe. Just like the night sky, the sun’s sky was a sure a thing. There was always light. Even when it seemed impossible, it would come. Even if she was looking away. Even if she had her eyes closed or forget to get up just to see it. The light would be there.