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Clown Niggas

Page 11

by T. Styles


  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ll love it. Trust me. It’s the poor man’s meal.” She paused. “And since you hungry as hell you’re also gonna eat it too.”

  He walked to the refrigerator, grabbed a beer and popped it open. It bothered Amelia that he picked up a drinking habit, heavily, but who was she to judge when she favored a crack rock here and there?

  “You’re the only Latina I know who doesn’t know how to cook Latin food.” He drank half of the beer. “Now how did that happen?”

  She shrugged and remembered to keep the lie alive. “The trials of an orphan I guess. But since you’re fine as fuck I’ll be sure to pick up a few recipe books and learn how to make Spanish dishes.”

  “You do that.” He smacked her ass and walked into the living room where E.M. and Spyrit were sitting on the sofa watching television.

  It had been two months since Spyrit and E.M. were attacked and a week since Spyrit had been out of the hospital. Although home, he walked with a limp and suffered excruciating headaches due to the trauma. To add to Spyrit’s burden to alleviate the pain he had developed a taste for prescription pills, which he couldn’t shake.

  E.M. on the other hand refused to give details about her horrors although it didn’t matter to Wyld. Since the last words he said to him about E.M. was that he would find her full of cum he figured he’d raped her and for that he had to pay.

  It didn’t matter if he did or didn’t at this point because Wyld saw the nigga as his worst enemy and as a result placed a bounty on his head for one hundred thousand.

  “How you guys feeling?” Wyld asked sitting back into the sofa.

  “We’re fine and I wish you stop asking us over and over,” E.M. said.

  “Yeah, man, me too,” Spyrit added.

  Wyld finished his beer and E.M. and Spyrit looked at one another. Although Spyrit had given up his alcohol love in exchange for another Wyld on the other hand was pushing toward full-blown drunkenness.

  “Why won’t you live your life?” E.M. said. “Why are you delaying making Amelia your wife since it’s obvious how much you care for her?”

  “I think it’s too early, E.M.,” Spyrit said popping a pill with no water. He swallowed. “If they gonna be together anyway why rush it with a situation so serious?”

  “Keep your voice down,” Wyld said looking into the kitchen. “I…I don’t want her hearing you. Even though what you’re saying is true.”

  “Son, it’s been months,” E.M. said. “Maybe Ryan has moved on and we—” Wyld cut her off.

  “He hasn’t forgotten. He’s waiting on the perfect time, which is why you two are staying here until I can catch this fucker.” He pointed at her. “Now I don’t know why he turned into this thing but when I catch him I will find out before I kill him.”

  “I been digging in my mind for months. And I keep coming to the day on the steps,” Spyrit said. “But to your point I think it’s something more. He’s always been selfish but now he’s turned violent and it’s geared toward us. His eyes aren’t even the same.”

  “I know you are twenty-seven Spyrit and that you’re about to be twenty-nine, Wyld, but how old is Ryan?” E.M. asked.

  Wyld shrugged. “About twenty-seven I think. Why?”

  “There’s a story circulating in the neighborhood that one day Ryan ran and left you two to fight for yourselves. And that you never forgave him.” She looked at Wyld. “Is it true?”

  “My family said the same thing to me but I can’t remember those days.” Wyld looked at Spyrit. “Do you, man?”

  “Most of the shit we went through as kids I tried to forget.” He readjusted in his seat and it was clear he knew something but wasn’t ready to deliver. “But if it happened I can’t remember either.”

  “Go see Diane,” E.M. said softly. “She’s never home but someone at her apartment will know something. I believe it in my heart.”

  Wyld moved closer to her. “You mean Diane from East Baltimore? The one my mother used to roll with?”

  She nodded.

  “E.M. do you know something that you not telling us?” Wyld continued. “Because if you do I need to hear what’s going on now. Nothing is making sense these days when it comes to Ryan.”

  “Wyld, please go see her.” She placed a heavy hand on his knee. “She won’t be kind to you but if you’re persistent enough you’ll get an answer.” She paused. “Whether you like it or not.”

  A soft jazz band played in the background of the elegant dark restaurant Wyld had taken Amelia too. Although she was getting use to life with a rich man she was still overwhelmed with the beauty of it all. If she wanted something she had it and money was not an issue.

  Gazing out of the floor to ceiling window overlooking Baltimore’s Inner Harbor she sighed. “We haven’t been out in months, Wyld.” Amelia adjusted in her seat. “What marks the occasion?”

  “So I can’t take my lady on a date?” He cut a section off of his succulent steak.

  She giggled. “Not sure how romantic this is with 5 soldiers hanging around the table and all but I love it.”

  He sat back and placed his utensils down. Wiping the corner of his mouth with the dark linen napkin he looked over at her. “I’m not about to let Ryan control my life, Amelia. But I do want you to feel safe.”

  “But you are letting him control your life.” She yelled. “We all are!” She took a deep breath, reached across the table and touched the top of his cool hand. “And I’m okay with that just as long as I’m with you, Wyld.”

  “I want you to be my wife,” he blurted out. A soldier suddenly moved closer to the table and opened a velvet red ring box with gold trimming. “Will you marry me?”

  Her eyes widened as the sparkle from the diamond made her pupils light up. Her stare was glued on the spectacular stone and she felt as if she were about to pass out. “Wyld, you don’t have to do this.” She looked at him. “I’m yours now.” She placed her hands over her heart. “With our without being your wife.”

  “I know. But I’m asking you to make this official.” He rose, removed the box from the soldier’s hand and got on one knee. “Amelia Rios, I love you. At times I felt guilty for finding you so soon, believing that Anna would never forgive me for moving on. But the more time I spend with you, the more I get to know you I realize that I want you in my life. So I’m putting down my guards in the hopes that you will do the same.” He exhaled. “So baby, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  She looked at the ring and back at him, large tears filling the wells of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Wyld. I love you but I can’t be your wife. I hope you understand.” She pushed back in the chair, stood up and ran away.

  Leaving Wyld on his knees.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Wyld

  “What You See Is The Face Of An Angry Man.”

  Wyld sat on the edge of his bed with the laptop on his knees. His fingers moved rapidly over the keyboard and he was irritated that he couldn’t find a meaning for the ‘Minator’, which Ryan told him to research at the tattoo shop. As hard as he searched nothing he found made much sense and the anger was boiling up inside of him.

  Frustration was mounting and then Amelia walked into the room and sat next to him, weighing the mattress down a little to compensate for her 125 pound frame. She looked down at the computer and back at him although he hadn’t bothered to give her eye contact. “What you searching for?” She whispered.

  “I’m busy.” His fingers continued to zoom over the keyboard.

  Amelia sighed. “Please don’t shut me out, Wyld. I…I wanted to let you know that I care about you and—”

  He laughed. “You care about me?” He focused on her. “Is that the reason you don’t want to be my wife?” He frowned.

  She played with her red fingernails. “I know what this is about. You’re not use to rejection very much are you?”

  He slammed the laptop closed and tossed it on the bed. “So you think this is a game?”


  She scooted away, unfamiliar with his brand of anger. If it was in his nature to hit her or not she couldn’t be certain. So she thought it best to back up and offer the man space. “Wyld, I want nothing more than to be your wife. I use to dream about it before I met—”

  “Before you what?” He frowned.

  Realizing she was about to fuck up and remind him of their drug dealer and the crack head roles in the past she took a deep breath. “I meant to say that I wanted to be your wife before I knew it was even possible.”

  “That’s why I still got the ring in my pocket? Because if you wanted to be my wife there should be nothing stopping you.”

  “Please don’t—”

  “You’re scared to be with me, Amelia.” He exhaled. “I’m not sure why but I believe it has to do with that nigga.”

  “That’s not true! I love you and I’m sorry I hurt your feelings but it’s not the right time to make that move. You may not understand now but I want to be right for you, in all the ways you deserve.”

  He looked into her eyes. “I’m busy. Bounce.”

  “Wyld.”

  “Get the fuck out!” He pointed at the door.

  Startled because he never spoke to her like that, slowly she rose to her feet and moped toward the exit. With her hand on the gold knob she was about to leave out until he called her name. Just hearing him say each syllable felt refreshing, as he hadn’t bother to speak to her for a week since she publicly rejected him. “Amelia.”

  She turned to face him. “Yes, Wyld.”

  He sighed heavily. “What you see is the face of an angry man. Of a…a…hurt man.” He exhaled. “This nigga Ryan fucked with my life long enough. He’s preventing me from making the woman I love my wife because you don’t feel safe. And I’m enraged because of it.”

  She looked at her bare toes and back at him. “So what…what you gonna do?”

  “Kill him.” He said through clenched teeth. “I’m certain of it.”

  Tears fell from her eyes and she stroked them away. “I love you and you don’t have to say it back because I know how you feel. And that you’re angry with me. I…I just want you to know that I believe we will get past this. Together.” She trudged out the door.

  When she disappeared he refocused on the Internet and after a few letter changes finally came upon the word MINOTAUR, which was a character within Greek mythology. The story was long but the gist was quite simple. Minotaur was the son of Pasiphae, wife of King Minos of Crete.

  When Pasiphae cheated on her husband and slept with a bull, resulting in a half human half bull child, King Minos was embarrassed. To hide his shame he sent Minotaur to a secret chamber. And frequently Minos would direct his enemies to the chamber to be eaten. Basically he was getting the child he hated to do his dirty work.

  Wyld sat back and looked out into the room. He found a few more articles on the story but for the life of him he couldn’t understand what the Greek myth had to do with him and Ryan acting like a stone cold bitch.

  “What the fuck you trying to say nigga?” He said out loud. “What do you want me to know?”

  Confused he rose and said, “I have to find this bitch E.M. was talking about. And now!”

  After speaking to a few people he finally located Diane’s address. She lived in a run down tenement in the worst part of East Baltimore. It was almost impossible to locate her because she moved five times since Wyld and his cousins were kids. What shook Wyld to the core was that when he saw her he remembered her and there was something about the unrecalled history that scared him.

  E.M. was also on point about Diane’s personality because when she flung her apartment door open she was rude as possible. “Diane, you probably don’t remember me but—”

  “How’d you get my address, nigga?” she looked out into the hallway and back at him. “Who told you where I lived?’

  “I just want to talk to you about—”

  “I gave them what they wanted.” She pointed at him. “I never flinched when they asked me so why are you here now? Trying to ruin my life. Trying to tell people about me?”

  Wyld scratched his scalp and placed one hand on his hip as he looked down and back at her. He was hoping for the right words to get the information he needed but his patience was thin. “Listen, I don’t know what you talking about. If you can give me more information I would—”

  “We were high! All of us and I paid for it the worst way a mother should.” She cried. And they were big tears, the kind that built up over a lifetime and only releasing with the right words. “Now I’m begging you, Wyld, to please leave and never return to my home again.”

  She even knew his name.

  “I’m not trying to be disrespectful. I remember you but not really and all I want is a little information. And some help with the past. Some shit kicked off with my cousin and I’m trying to find out why. Please help me.”

  “I said get away from my door!” She frowned.

  She tried to slam it shut but Wyld extended his hand and used his bicep muscle to prevent her from shutting him out. “Lady, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck—”

  “What you say, my nigga?” A big light skinned man asked stepping out of the apartment, followed by an even lighter one. His name was Emilio.

  That didn’t matter.

  All that was important was that each had .45 handguns in their grasps aiming in Wyld’s direction.

  Realizing he pushed too far he raised his arms up slowly and backed down the stairs. “It’s cool, no beef from me.” His palms remained with the white side up all the way to his car.

  The men disappeared back into the building.

  Although well within his right, he wasn’t angry, just more intrigued than ever. Pulling his cell phone from his pocket he made a call. “Bosh, I need you to meet with me about something. Don’t worry about the block right now. This is more pressing.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Amelia

  “I Love Wyld. More Than I Love Myself.”

  Amelia stepped out of the bathroom and bumped into Spyrit who was using a cane to walk toward his room to take a nap. “Sorry,” she said lightly. “I didn’t mean to hit you.”

  Under a grumbled breath he frowned and said, “No problem.”

  He was about to hobble away when she said, “Spyrit, you don’t like me do you? If it’s true I just wish I knew why.”

  He turned to face her. “I don’t know you enough.” He shrugged. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have my opinions.”

  She moved closer but was careful about invading his space. “What is it about me that causes you to frown every time you see my face? If I make dinner and give you a plate you won’t eat it. If I offer you something to drink you pretend like you don’t hear me. It’s like you hate me and I don’t—”

  “I know you a drug addict, Amelia.” He paused and allowed the words to seep into her soul, careful to gauge her reaction. “I know who you are even if my cousin doesn’t.”

  She stepped back and leaned against the wall, unable to carry her own weight. It felt as if the air had been sucked out of her body and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. “I didn’t…I’m not—”

  “Please don’t fucking lie.” He said angrily. “I’ve known for some time now what you were. I’m just bringing it to your attention now.”

  “How’d you find out?”

  “My Ex is friend’s with someone you knew from the past and it got back to me.” He shook his head. “I have to admit, you’re the best looking addict I’ve seen in a long time. But a crack head all the same.”

  She lowered her head. “So I guess I should pack my clothes.”

  He sighed. “As much as I want to say yes it’s not my place. Besides, I’m in this physical situation from saying more than I should. I’m starting to believe that if you let things play out everything a person needs to know will be revealed, without extra help from me. Plus I don’t make it my life’s work to hurt my cousin. I
just want to know if you’re official.”

  She looked at the floor. “I’m not gonna lie, not a day goes by where I don’t think about drugs. The cravings are so strong sometimes I put my car keys and purse in Wyld’s trunk when he goes out just so I can’t act on the urges.” She paused and looked over at him. “I’m an addict, Spyrit. Probably will always be. But I’m trying.” Small tears crept down her cheek. “And I love Wyld. More than I love myself.”

  Spyrit looked away and back at her. “I was gonna tell him about you the other day. I wrestled with it for a long time and asked myself repeatedly what was stopping me?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “So why didn’t you?”

  “Because the nigga had an attitude all day. Pushing shit to the side and slamming doors around the house like he’s mad at the world. Or like I did something to him.”

  She laughed softly and shook her head. “Yeah, things have been heavy around here. I’m sorry for that too. I think it may be my fault.”

  “Heavy around here is an understatement.” He sighed. “But I learned from E.M. after he got drunk that when he asked you to be his wife you said no. And any female looking to jump at his pockets wouldn’t have thought twice. So I chose not to tell him about your past.”

  Tears rolled down her cheek. “I can’t bring myself to accept his proposal without being completely honest with him about my past. It’s not fair.”

  “That speaks a lot about your character, Amelia. In my book anyway.”

  “Thank you. For keeping my secret.”

  He sighed and leaned against the wall. “I don’t know what’s up with us as a people. We…we look for what can hurt us the most and move toward it. Maybe it’s because it’s all we know. Now I’m not a social worker. I’m going through my own shit that I haven’t figured out yet. But I do know you can’t get right until you work on things from the inside out.”

 

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