by Sienna Mynx
“Oh I know, little girl. It’s why I’m so upset you got involved with that band of heathens in the first place. I don’t want you to worry about your brothers. I’ve alerted the authorities. They’ve gone out to that swamp and arrested many of them hillbillies. Pops Bondurant will not chase us from this city or any other. I’ve handled it.”
“But, daddy… I told you not to involve the police!”
“I said it’s taken care of,” he tells me in a stern voice.
I shake my head in disbelief. My father is still arrogant and stubborn as ever. He stands up and goes around his desk and sits. He rocks back in his chair. “How did we get here?”
“I dunno, daddy. You tell me. You seem to know everything.”
He chuckles, but its not from humor it’s a sadistic satisfied sound of triumph. My father thinks he’s won. I’m still clueless as to what.
“I guess I just wanted you to trust me. Let me make my own choices. I wanted a relationship with you that felt… like you respected me.”
“You think I don’t respect you?”
“Do you?”
“Not anymore. No. I didn’t raise a daughter who would throw her future away on the likes of a Bondurant. I can’t respect any girl who picks up boys in bars and brings them in my mother’s home. Oh yea, the neighbors saw you and him. I know all about it. You’ve been whoring yourself for months.”
“I’m not a whore! But I feel like one every time you try to sell me off to marry Xavier Lacroix. It makes you nothing more than a pimp, daddy. Did you know that?”
His smile fades.
He sits forward with rage and contempt contorting his face.
“Forgiveness is earned daddy. I can’t forgive my father who cares more about his reputation than he does about his wife and children. I think you meant to hit me. I think you meant it and you don’t regret it. And that’s un-forgivable to me. Because contrary to what you think, I do love you. You’re my father.”
I get up from my seat without being dismissed. My father picks up the phone and starts dialing a call before I leave the room. He’s talking and laughing with the person on the other end as I wipe tears and walk down the hall. I don’t know him. I don’t think I ever did.
I find my grand-mère waiting for me. She’s staring out the window. I’m angry with her too. Why did she call daddy and bring him here? I thought at the very least we could talk. Really talk. I see now that’s not what either of them want.
“Sit down Coco,” grand-mère says.
“No, ma’am,” I say. “I’d rather stand.”
My grand-mère glances over to me. She turns her wheel chair and rolls it toward me. She stops and looks me up and down with that critical stare that used to make me hide from her in shame. I’m wearing the faded blue jeans Brick likes and white shirt tied to the front. It reveals my navel. Grand-mère hates when I show my cleavage or navel. This act of rebellion seemed foolish at first, but now I’m glad I did it. Whatever the outcome of our family reunion, they won’t control me.
“You know your mother left Heathcliff? Went to Atlanta?”
“Yes, mam,” I say.
“Disgraceful. She’ll regret it, Coco. Your father loves her but he has his pride. She won’t see a dime from this family. And her brothers in her family won’t offer her any financial help either. I don’t even think she’s ever held a real job. How will she take care of herself? That’s what I want to know. Do either of you think of consequences?”
“I… do.”
“You still seeing that Cajun boy? The one whose family out there trying to kill your brothers?”
“He’s not responsible for that.” I say.
“He is. I know his people. What his father and grandfather are, what they do out there in those swamps. How on earth did you ever get mixed up with these people? I raised you better than this!”
“Stop it! Just stop!” I shout at her. My grand-mère looks at me startled. “I’m sorry, I am, from the bottom of my heart, but it’s done. You raised me to love and respect my family. To give charity. To believe in people and not judge them the way we’ve always been judged. And that’s what I did. What I continue to do. And this didn’t start because of the Bondurants, grand-mère. Mama is right. It started because of you.”
“Me?” she scoffs at me.
“Yes. You. I have been struggling to do everything your way. And I got sick of it. I’m twenty-two. I tell people that I have an arranged marriage and they laugh. No one believes me. Women my age are just starting to enjoy life. Growing into their own person. All I’m expected to do is marry a man who I don’t love just to please you? To make Daddy dreams of politics come true?”
“He’s a good man. A forgiving man? We had dinner with Xavier and his family last night. Do you know he still wants to marry you?”
“What?” I recoil in disgust.
“He does! He wants to marry you. And I for one can’t believe it after all that you’ve done.”
Stunned I back away from my grandmother. I’m sick by the hypocrisy in this family. I can’t even look at her. But I must do what I came here to do. I came here to help my mother. Mama’s taking a stand, one that would cripple her for years with legal battles. I don’t want her to have to suffer through this because of me.
“Grand-mère. I want you to help mama. I want you to have daddy give her the divorce, give her what is rightfully hers.”
My grandmother scoffs once again. She turns her chin up as if I smell.
“I’m serious. Daddy isn’t happy, and neither is she. They need to part ways. Only you can make sure that it’s not messy. Not a scandal. Mama, will sign whatever you want about the confidentiality of this family. Just let her go.”
“She’ll be the wife she is supposed to be ’til the day I die,” my grandmother says.
“What if I tell you that I’ll stop seeing Brick… uh Byran Bondurant? Would you agree then?”
My grand-mère narrows her eyes on me. I see nothing of the kind sweetness I’ve known from her all my life. I see someone I don’t know. A cold shrewd woman who is better at negotiating than me.
“You’ll have to do more than that, cher. You’ll have to marry Xavier for me to grant that wish.”
“Marry?”
“You heard me. Your father has worked night and day to get our family into the Senate. To have his chance. Xavier is his chance. Our families together will show the power of the Larue’s still alive and well. The influence is there. Xavier could one day be President. He sho’ is a lot smarter than that Barack Obama.”
“I won’t do it. It’s ridiculous for you to even ask me to do this.”
“It’s my terms. You think about it. The wedding is booked. I’ve contained your little messy affair, and like I said the Lacroix family is all forgiving.”
“That’s why you agreed to see me? Why you had daddy give me that fake apology. You two both plotting this? So daddy could one day sleep in the White House? It’s sick.”
“Your mama spent all her beauty and life in her marriage to Heathcliff. What can she do at sixty-two? Work as a cashier at a grocery store? How long before her sister and her start fighting like they always does and she got no place to go? You two gonna get a trailer together out in the bayou? Hmpf! You want to be a grown up. Well, here is life. It’s not about the fairytale with some dirty Cajun. It’s about sacrifice. We all have to make it. Women been making sacrifices for centuries. You gone make yours. Ya hear me!”
My heart drops as my grand-mère rolls out of the room. She stops in the foyer and looks back at me. “You got a week to decide to do what’s right. One week.”
And then she’s gone.
I sit down on the chair and close my eyes. I’m lost.
“W’sup dar’e brah?” Marcel says and peeks his head inside the door. I’m so happy to see him. I pick up my whiteboard and start write before he can clear the door. I turn it around for him to read.
How’s Coco?
“Damn man? Can I get a hello
first?”
Hello. How’s Coco?
Marcel laughs. I wish I could smile wth him. He walks over to the bed with his hands in his pockets. My room is filled with flowers. I can’t stand the smell. It reminds me of. When I close my eyes all I see is her. I need my Coco. She’s not been back to see me since the first visit.
“She fine, brah, asking about you all the time, too. We told her to stay away, ya heard me? It’s for the best right now. Your Pops is still on a rampage.”
Rampage? I’ve talked to Pops. The hit is called off. What has Pops done?
Marcel groans. “Man, I don’t want to be the one to tell you this.”
I wipe away my words hard and fast. I write even faster and this time in all capital letters.
WHAT HAS POPS DONE?
“It started with Coco’s father. That jackass had police raid Golden Meadow, your home. Arrested many of your family. Whatever peace you had going with Pops is over. He’s pissed. Got everyone released in an hour. But you know how he is about that territory. They say the cops weren’t locals. And they broke up a lot of Pops shit. Hurt some of the women too.”
My heart drops. Is Coco’s father crazy? He would have to be to send in the cops to the bayou. And who were these cops? It made no sense. Pops owned the police. There is no turning back from this war. Not now. Not after this.
“And there’s something else,” Marcel says.
I glance up at him.
“Domino is dead.”
My brow wrinkles.
How?
“Don’t know. I can guess. Throat was cut on Bourbon Street. Witness said two big white dudes grabbed him off the street and pulled him to the corner and did it in broad daylight. Police looking for them. Rumor has it that it’s Pops.”
I sigh heavily through my nose.
“That’s why Coco ain’t been here, Brick. I’m not sure it’s fucking safe for me to come here. Pops is on a warpath. Until he captures one of her brothers there won’t be no peace in the streets.
I need you to get a message to Smoke.
Ask him to come see me.
Go to the club and tell him.
“Can’t do it brother. The club is gone. Smoke ain’t been seen in weeks. I think he out there in the swamp with your people.”
You have to see Pops.
Tell him to come see me.
Go to the bayou and tell him.
“Fuck that. Fuck you, Brick. Your father is nuts. Crazy. I’m not getting involved. I’m just here to tell you what is going on.”
Coco?
“Brick, I told you man. She shouldn’t come out here. What if Pops walks in and sees her with you? What you gone protect her with, your white board?”
I need her.
“Yeah, well I won’t do it. Not until things cool off. And right now it doesn’t look like that will happen any time soon. Man, I’m fucking sorry about this, Brick. I really am. With Domino dead, and you in this condition I had to call Paris. The job is off man. They are going with another band.”
I close my eyes to the news. I hadn’t told Marcel that even if my jaw wasn’t held together with wires, I’d never play again. There will be no future in jazz for me. And now I’m beginning to realize there is little hope for me and Coco. I’m lost without her. I can’t win this battle lying here like some fucking dead man. I don’t know what to do.
“Tell you what. I’ll talk to my cousin, Arlana. See if he can set something up where Coco can see you again. Let me try.”
Thank you.
“Chill, Brick. There’s not much you can do. You just got to heal, brother, and that’s going to take time.
I’m out of time.
“Yeah. You are.”
Chapter Twenty
I’m not in ICU anymore but they won’t let me go home yet. Last MRI revealed blood clots in my legs and lungs. I can barely breathe and they tell me it is going to get worse before it gets better. I’m miserable.
Pops is in war mode. He shut down the club and Cajun Jack’s Crawfish House. He’s only let family out of the Bayou to work at the dealerships. That means visits to me are nonexistent right now. And I don’t know what Pops next move is.
There’s only one good thing to come out of this. With Pops plotting his revenge, it has opened me up to receive the only visitor I really needed. Coco. What I want more than anything is to talk to her. She fixes my flowers and puts fresh water in the vases. She fixes my pillow and blanket. She smiles for me. I can’t even smile for her.
I’m a physical man. I also like to be verbal with my woman. Touch her. Make sure she knows I’m hers and she’s mine. Right now I feel like a bystander in my life. A voyeur.
“There, you look great, Brick,” she smiles. “I’m glad, baby.”
Coco comes over and kisses my brow. She’s visited me three times this week. The first time she sat at my bedside and cried. She cried so hard and so long it made me crazy. The next day she sat in silence. I would write and ask her what was wrong but she remained in the catatonic state. On day three she can’t stop talking. It’s nervous banter. She tells me about the Saint’s putting an ass beating on the Atlanta Falcons, and gives me updates on all the drama between Georgie and Marcel. She’s building up to something. I can sense it. And it’s making me nervous.
What’s wrong?
She glances over to the whiteboard and the question I wrote. She bites down on her bottom lip and blinks away her tears. Now I know I’m in trouble.
Tell me? Is it Pops? Is it your brothers?
Your family?
Has he made his move?
I’m writing so fast I nearly break the dry erase marker.
“Stop it, Brick. Just stop, okay? I’ll tell you.”
I blink at her for answers. Get it out already. Tell me what it is.
“I won’t be seeing you again after today,” she says.
The comment stings, but only a little, because I don’t believe her. And even if I did believe her I know damn well when I get out of this bed I’ll convince her to be mine. Easily. Because she is mine. Always.
“Pops kept his promise, Brick. He didn’t kill my brothers. But he did catch Nathan. And he sent my father the message he promised too. Right now my brother is on the sixth floor in ICU.” She starts to cry. “Everything my brothers did to you your family did to Nathan. Except Nathan had the skin removed from his face and was left tied to a tree in my grand-mère’s yard.”
I’m grunting to speak. I’m trying to get my mouth open, but I can’t.
“Shhh, stay calm. Please, stay calm, Brick.” She touches my chest and I groan with so much regret. If I don’t do something quick I’m going to lose her. I can’t lose her. I can’t. I grab her hand with my good one and squeeze it. Her eyes sparkle with tears.
“It’s got to end Brick. This war. My brother is never going to be the same again. And that’s if he lives. He has pneumonia too. The doctors fear he won’t recover. And you aren’t going to be the same again either. What can you really do from this bed? What can I do to change any of it? I’ve decided to accept my grand-mère’s terms.”
What terms?
WHAT TERMS!
“She wants me to marry Xavier. My mother is in Atlanta and my brothers are going to get themselves killed with this vendetta against your family.”
I try again to write but she stops my hand. I’m powerless. I grunt and grunt but she kisses my lips and silence’s me.
“I’m sorry, Brick. But this is the future I’ve always seen. The one I’ve been running from.”
Why is she doing this?
Why!
Doesn’t she realize she’s worth more than this?
That I can protect her. That I can love her.
You won’t marry him!
I’ll kill him!
I will have him killed!
I’LL KILL HIM!
She stops reading my board. I hold it up for her to see what I’ve written, but she doesn’t look at me. She gathers her purse and things. She’s
leaving.
“I’m sorry, Brick. I love you with all my hear Brick,” she says and then she leaves. I throw the board at the door and it hits it with a loud clank and clammers to the floor. I throw the marker too. It’s the only act of rebellion I have left in me.
“I won’t let you do this. I won’t let you make the same mistakes as me. That old woman has gone too far.”
I stir my straw in my ice tea. I can’t even look up at my mother. I’m staring down at the brown liquid with ice cubes bobbing up and down below the surface. All I can think of his Brick’s grunts of protests. The look of pain and anger in his eyes when I walked out. I’m still not sure if I can go through with it. But Nathan’s prognosis has worsened. He’s got an infection in his wounds that they fear could turn septic. My family is crumbling all around me. Bobby was the second one attacked. Stabbed three times on the oil rig by someone Pops hired. He’s fine and recovering, but now the investigators are digging into Brick and my relationship. Every day it gets worse. This has to stop.
“Do you hear me,” My mother says and grabs my arm.
I blink out of my thoughts and look up into her eyes. I hear her. But she has no more power than I do. “You talk to daddy?” I ask.
“I could kill him,” my mother mumbles.