The Million Dollar Demise

by RM Johnson

  “No. And I do apologize. I’m not making light of this situation. But comas have to run their course. No amount of money will change that.”

  “So you’re telling me there is absolutely nothing that can be done? Nothing that has ever been done, been tried before? I will not believe that, Doctor.”

  “Okay, Mr. Kenny,” Dr. Brooks said. “Yes, there was a man, trapped in a comalike state for six years. He was brought back to consciousness by doctors who planted electrodes deep inside his brain. The method is called deep brain stimulation, or DBS. It successfully roused communication, complex movement, and eating ability in the man, but there was resulting brain damage.”

  Dr. Brooks closed Monica’s file, hung it back on the foot of her bed.

  “Monica’s case is not that serious. It’s only been a couple days. I strongly urge you to not consider that treatment, or any other at this time. I do believe she will wake from this.”

  Nate stared helplessly at the man. He felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of his face. Nate wished this doctor could guarantee his beliefs, because without that, they meant nothing.

  “So,” Dr. Brooks said. “If you have any other questions or concerns, you have my pager and cell number. Call me anytime, okay?”

  “I’ll do that,” Nate grunted.

  “And, Mr. Kenny,” Dr. Brooks said, before stepping out of the room. “You’ve had surgery just days ago. You really shouldn’t be on your feet like this.”

  Nate didn’t tell the doctor what he could do with his last remark. He let him walk out of the room, then Nate walked to the chair that sat in the corner of Monica’s room and gingerly lowered himself into it. He let out a long sigh. There was pain, but not nearly as much as yesterday. And he was able to stand for a longer period, even without the walker. A knock came at the open door. Nate looked up to see Abbey there.

  “Come in. Did you contact Ford’s people?”

  “I was able to speak to the ex-girlfriend and the mother. The uncle is out of town on business.”

  “And?”

  “Both the girlfriend and the mother hold you responsible for what happened to Ford and refuse to talk to us. The girlfriend said she would tell the father not to speak to you, either.”

  Nate angrily slapped his palm down on the arm of the chair. “Have they at least been interviewed by the police?”

  “I assume they would have been,” Abbey said. “But neither they nor the police will confirm that. I spoke to Detective Davis today, and he told me to, quote, butt out, end quote.”

  “Abbey, I don’t have to tell you how important it is that we speak to these people. The police have not found anything out, and with each day, each hour that passes, the chance of me seeing my son, of catching this maniac, becomes smaller and smaller.”

  “I know, sir,” Abbey said. “So what do we do now?”

  “Dammit!” Nate said, striking the chair again, this time with the side of his fist. “I can’t think of anything else.”

  In the next moment, Nate was shocked to see Lewis Waters standing just inside the hospital room door.

  “What are you doing here?” Nate said, not fully believing his eyes. “You’re supposed to be in jail.”

  “Sir, shall I—” Abbey began, taking a step toward Lewis.

  “No! Let him answer.”

  “I came to see Monica,” Lewis said, looking over at her.

  “Why aren’t you in prison?”

  Before Nate had even finished speaking the question, it all came back to him. The day after they had gotten shot, he and Monica were supposed to show up at court to press charges against Lewis. Nate figured the judge had probably given them another day to appear, and when they didn’t show, Lewis was released. And then there were the countless voice mail messages on his cell phone. Nate was sure his attorney had called several times, trying to inform him of Lewis’s release. Nate just hadn’t had the time to check those messages.

  “No one to press charges,” Lewis said, answering Nate’s question.

  “So they let you go,” Nate said.

  “That’s right,” Lewis said, starting toward Monica’s bedside.

  “Don’t you go over there,” Nate warned.

  Lewis halted. “Is she okay?”

  “Does she look okay?” Nate said. “She’s in a coma, and even though they believe she’ll wake up, they don’t know when.”

  “I guess it could be worse,” Lewis said. “You have Layla. I’m gonna need for you to give her back.”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, no?” Lewis said, starting toward Nate. Abbey stood in his way, her hand sliding into her jacket. Lewis froze.

  “I mean, this is all your fault,” Nate said. “Because of you, that psychopath tried to kill me and my wife.”

  “She’s not your wife.”

  “And he’s taken my son. You won’t get your daughter till I get my son.”

  “Fuck that!” Lewis said, starting toward Nate again.

  This time Abby threw back her jacket, revealing the 9mm weapon, her hand wrapped around it. “Mr. Waters, I wouldn’t if I were you,” she warned.

  “It seems as though we have a situation, Waters,” Nate said. “I could call my attorney right now and tell him what’s happened and get you back in court, have you convicted and sentenced.”

  “Try it. I’m not a fool. It’s too late. You can’t do that.”

  Nate nodded. “Maybe not. But I could try, and you’d be surprised what a very well-paid lawyer can pull off. I could at least have you taken back into custody under suspicion of having something to do with the shooting.”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with this! I would never hurt Monica!” Lewis shouted. “I ain’t going back in there!”

  “Fine. Then you and I make a little deal. I need help finding your friend Ford. You help me find him and get my son back, you stay out of jail, and you get Layla. Will you help me?” Nate said, extending a hand to Lewis.

  Lewis hesitated.

  After a moment he took Nate’s hand and said, “Yeah, okay. I’ll help.”

  22

  Daphanie and Brownie roamed leisurely through the aisles of Best Buy looking for the new Me’shell CD.

  They had wandered over to the flat-panel TVs and were both standing in front of a fifty-inch Samsung LCD model.

  “See, that’s what you need,” Brownie said.

  “Exactly,” Daphanie said. “One more welfare mama with a fifty-inch flat-panel sitting in her living room on a milk crate.”

  “Please. You’re not gonna be a welfare mama.”

  “I know,” Daphanie said, stepping away toward the Toshibas. “Because I made an appointment for an abortion.”

  Brownie froze, staring at Daphanie, her mouth hanging open. “What did you say?”

  Daphanie walked back to her friend, stood right in front of her, and whispered, “I said, I’m getting an abortion.”

  “Why?” Brownie said, grabbing Daphanie by the wrist. “You said—”

  “Because it’s my right.”

  “Besides that?”

  “I thought about it and I’m about to be out of a job. And my child will be a bastard, with a father who’s married to another woman. And because I love another man.”

  “You aren’t talking about that motherfucker Nate—” Brownie said.

  “Yes, I still love that motherfucker Nate. And the plan is—”

  “Wait. You have a plan?”

  “And the plan is,” Daphanie said, continuing, “to get rid of this baby and go to Nate and tell him that I understand that he might have missed his wife, but that he divorced her for a reason. It was the right decision, and he should come back to me.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “Yeah. And me getting an abortion is the punch line,” Daphanie said. “No. I’m dead-ass serious.”

  “He’s not worth it, Daph.”

  “Really,” Daphanie said, raising a finger to Brownie. “Let me tell you why you
say that.”

  “Please do.”

  “You’ve been in a monogamist relationship with John for three years. He loves your dirty bathwater, and you’re only thirty-two years old, so you still have time to have a baby. Me, I’m thirty-seven. I need to get pregnant now.”

  “Hello! You are!”

  “I’m not talking by anyone. It’s not just about having a baby. It’s also about getting a good man. Nate is the man I want. A handsome millionaire who I’ve fallen in love with, and who I know loves me,” Daphanie said. “That’s what I want. And I know he ain’t gonna go for that with me carrying some other fool’s baby.”

  “So Trevor’s a fool now?”

  “Okay, no. I’m the fool for getting pregnant by the wrong guy. That’s why I’m getting the procedure. When I’m done, I’m going to get my man back.”

  “Daphanie, sometimes you don’t make a lick of sense,” Brownie said, raising a finger back at her friend. “Right now I need distance from your ass.”

  She walked away, leaving Daphanie standing in front of the wall of flat-panel televisions.

  Brownie had everything just the way she wanted things in her life, so Daphanie’s opinion didn’t mean squat. Daphanie turned to face the screens in front of her, when she realized she recognized the scene that was on the TVs.

  It was a house roped off by yellow police tape, with squad cars out in front of it and detectives and uniformed officers milling about. Only after staring glossy-eyed at the screens for ten seconds did Daphanie finally realize it was Nate’s house she was looking at.

  “Brownie,” Daphanie called, her voice barely audible.

  Brownie heard her. She turned and waved Daphanie off, still angered by their conversation.

  “Brownie!” Daphanie screamed this time. “Come here!”

  Brownie ran to Daphanie’s side.

  Daphanie had thumbed up the volume on the closest TV. She felt light-headed, like she was about to faint listening to what she was hearing.

  A thin woman in a purple pantsuit, holding a microphone was in midsentence. “… shooting occurred two days ago, and only now the names of the victims have been released. Monica Kenny and ex-husband Nate Kenny have been taken to a local area hospital. Both are in critical condition. There are still no suspects in the shooting, but we’ll keep you up to date as we get more information.”

  Daphanie, her face covered with tears, turned to Brownie and said, “Nate. He’s been shot. I’ve got to see him.”

  23

  Lewis stood at the front door of Freddy’s uncle’s home. Freddy’s mother had to be here, Lewis figured. There was nowhere else she could go.

  After Lewis left the hospital, he had taken the bus to Freddy’s house, hoping Freddy’s mother would let him stay there. When he got off the bus and walked down the street to the house, Lewis was shocked to see what lay before him. What once was a house was now just a huge pile of old splintered wood. A giant metal dumpster sat to one side of the mess. The entire site was encircled by a temporary chain-link fence. Fastened to it, a yellow sign read DANTE DEMOLITION.

  So Freddy hadn’t been lying. Nate really had used him. Lewis felt a moment of sympathy for his onetime friend, because he knew how evil Nate could be. Lewis shook that emotion. Freddy should’ve come to him. They could’ve worked against Nate. But Freddy chose to do things his way, and now Monica and Nate were in the hospital. —

  Lewis knocked on Freddy’s uncle’s door, hoping that Henry wasn’t there. He didn’t know how happy the man would be to see Lewis, considering all that had happened. Lewis saw someone peek out from behind the curtain shading the front door’s window. The locks were undone, then the door opened. Freddy’s mother, a big brown woman in her sixties, stood there, a sad smile on her face. Her graying hair was tied in a scarf. “Lewis, is that you?” She pushed open the screen door and opened her arms. “Come here, child.”

  Lewis stepped forward, allowing her to embrace him. He hugged her back, almost wanting to cry, considering what they had both gone through—what they were now going through.

  Moms was what Freddy called her. It was what Lewis had been calling her for almost twenty years as well. She asked Lewis into the house. Lewis hesitated.

  “Don’t worry. Freddy’s uncle is out of town. Won’t be back for a week.”

  Inside, Moms insisted that Lewis have a seat in the living room. She brought him a cold glass of lemonade and sat on the couch before him.

  Lewis guzzled half the glass down before saying, “Moms, you know why I’m here?”

  “I thought you was in jail.”

  “I was, but they had to let me go. It’s a long story. But you know why I’m here, right?”

  Moms dropped her face in her hands.

  “Moms, Freddy—”

  “No!” Moms said, looking frightened, her palm up. “Fred was here. He said he did something horrible. The police came for him. I ain’t have to lie to them, and I don’t want to start.”

  “But—”

  “I said I don’t want to hear it!” Moms cried, her hands covering her ears.

  Lewis stood from the sofa and sat on the couch next to her. He put his arm around her broad back. “Can you tell me where he is, Moms?”

  Her hands still to her ears, her eyes closed now, she said, “I don’t know. I told him not to tell me that, too.”

  Lewis pulled his arm away, stood. He looked down at Moms. She was devastated. This was one more reason to hate Freddy, Lewis thought. He had to have known this moment would happen, had to have known the grief he would cause everyone who loved him, but obviously he didn’t give a damn.

  Lewis glanced down at the home phone sitting on the end table. “Can I use the phone, Moms?”

  “Do whatever you like, Lewis.”

  Lewis picked up the phone, dialed Freddy’s cell number. Without a single ring, the call went straight to voice mail. Lewis hung up. He sat back down.

  “Moms, Freddy did something bad. Really bad. He’s hurt a lot of people because of it, including you, and I don’t like that. I’m gonna have to find him.” Lewis took Moms’s hand, squeezed it. “I just want you to know. You understand?”

  Moms nodded. A tear ran quickly down her wrinkled bronze skin.

  Lewis embraced her, then stood. “I’ll let you know everything that happens, but I gotta go now.” Lewis walked toward the front door.

  “Where?”

  Lewis turned around to see Moms standing, wiping her face dry.

  “Um …”

  “Have you eaten?” Moms asked.

  “No.”

  “You got a place to stay?”

  “No, Moms, I don’t.”

  “Then I’ll fix you a meal. And like I said, my brother won’t be back for a week. You stay, do what you got to do from here till you find Freddy.”

  24

  After Daphanie had seen the report of Nate’s shooting, she was so distraught, Brownie had to help her out of the store and into her car.

  Instead of taking Daphanie home, Brownie drove her back to her house.

  Inside Brownie’s town home, slumped low in an armchair, Daphanie looked up from her damp Kleenex. “We have to find out what hospital Nate’s in. I have to see him. Can you call around?”

  Brownie stood in front of her friend, staring down at her without saying a word.

  “Brownie, can you call around, find out where he is?”

  Sadly Brownie said, “I can’t, Daph. I know it hurts, but that man is no longer your responsibility. He’s out of your life.”

  Daphanie shot up from the chair. “I don’t care. I still love him!”

  “But he doesn’t love you!” Brownie took Daphanie by the shoulders. With concern in her eyes, she said, “He told you that. The two of you are finished. You’re free, girl.”

  “I don’t want to be free. I want to be with him.”

  “And what if he dies?” Brownie said. “Ever thought of that? Maybe it’s not even your choice whether or not the two of you are t
ogether. You have enough on your damn plate already. Can you just deal with that?” Brownie released Daphanie.

  “I need to see him,” Daphanie said, her voice low.

  Brownie stepped away from Daphanie, then turned back to face her. “Your car is at home, and I’m not taking you back till you promise me that you won’t go looking for him.”

  Daphanie fell back into the chair, dropped her face in her hands, knowing her best friend was right.

  Two hours later, Brownie was dropping Daphanie off in front of her building.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Brownie said from her side of the car. “You want me to come up?”

  Daphanie smiled as best as she could, shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

  “No calling, looking around for Nate. This is killing you, I’m sure, but you know I’m right about this.”

  Daphanie nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

  An hour later, Daphanie had found the hospital where Nate was taken. It just happened to be where Brownie worked. After hanging up the phone and writing down some information, Daphanie quickly threw on a jacket, grabbed her keys, and hurried out the door.

  Daphanie exited the elevator on level three. She was excited to see Nate, but nervous about the condition he might be in. She pushed that out of her mind as she walked quickly down the carpeted hall. She told herself that he was fine. And even if he wasn’t, she would sit by his side until he was. Daphanie eyed the numbers on the doors as they passed: 328, 324, 322. She stopped when she saw a man walking toward her. He did not look at her, seemed to have a lot on his mind. He walked past her.

  “Tim,” Daphanie called.

  The man stopped and turned around. It was Nate’s brother. He walked back to Daphanie, a look of mild surprise on his face. “Daphanie. Um, what are you doing here?”

  “I came to see Nate. Is he alright? I saw on the news that—”

  “He’s fine, Daphanie. Did you speak to him? Does he know that you’re coming?”

  “No. I didn’t even know if he was in any condition to talk. I just came by. Is there a problem?”

  Tim looked as though he really had an issue with her being there.