“What about Martin? Team Leader got a power drill?”
“Yeah, he likes being prepared. But Baby, I don’t want him involved.”
“Why’s he gotta be involved?”
Sigh! So that’s how my Love & me wound up sneaking into my own house in broad daylight. Kenji didn’t want me going by myself. I didn’t want Kenji staying home & looking at the ceiling by himself. We called ahead to make sure nobody was there. I’d texted Martin already that morning to say hi, so he had no reason to think anything “unusual” was going on.
We bundled Kenji up in a sweatshirt. We took South Shore Road so I could show him the ocean & beaches & lighthouse & bay grapes & banyan trees, all the stuff we’ve been looking at forever but it’s different now. Now I’m saying, “Check all the tents down Church Bay, Baby,” meaning Don’t you want to stay & enjoy stuff like this, stuff that’s all about life & color & noise?, but without actually saying it cuz saying it would be too much. Now I’m sneaking glances at Kenji in the passenger seat of his own car, he’s looking out the window & I can’t tell if he’s seeing the blue-gray sky & snow cone guy or not, I’m worrying like maybe I shouldn’t have pointed out the tents cuz it means it’s Cupmatch weekend coming (& it’s true all the other cars got their red&blue/blue&blue flags flying for the Cupmatch teams), Bermy’s favorite long weekend that K & me never spent together cuz, well, it was a long weekend.
“Feel OK, Baby?” & he took my hand in both of his. He didn’t say nothing, maybe he felt carsick, the more we drove the more he looked like he was concentrating like crazy on looking at my fingers & then not looking at them.
Anyway, we got there, Martin’s car was gone, he was at work. I sorta wanted Kenji to stay in the car cuz he’s slow-moving, poor sight, & he could honk if there was “trouble” (???). I also didn’t want him staying in the car in case he started to feel bad & went & sat down in the road instead. Kenji really wanted to stay in the car, he was breathing real deliberately, he said, “It’s just the pictures.” & that settled it, I wanted him where I could grab him, I dragged him in the house.
I offered to get a chair, but we thought we wouldn’t be too long. K leaned on the counter & I felt him watching me like he was scared to look anywhere else. I thought the drill would be in the junk drawer with the stuff Martin uses to hang pictures. It wasn’t. Sigh! So I tried the cabinets. That kitchen’s got a lot of cabinets. I started with the less used ones high up, no luck. Poor Kenji sat down slowly on the floor in a corner, & I started on the lower cabinets.
Part of me kept thinking I didn’t really want to find it. But I did want to find it cuz Kenji wanted to find it & I knew that hardheaded bye would insist on going into town if we didn’t find it. Maybe I thought if we found it, got that much out of the way, I could snuggle him into forgetting what he thought he wanted to do with it. I looked under the sink.
“Oh look, Baby. DeWalt. Don’t they make drills?” It was a black & yellow bag like an overnight bag. It had the drill, all the little pieces to go with it, & a screwdriver set too. & now I think about it, I must’ve been the one who bought it, prbly for Martin’s birthday or something (this head & soul of mine need a vacation). “OK Baby, we’re good to go.”
Then the front door opened.
“Nabilah? You’re here? You’re home?”
Martin.
Do you, Martin Alan Furbert, take…
Martin.
He came around the counter, spotted Kenji in the corner.
My boys gaped at each other. The 2 boys gaped at me. The 3 of us who’ve known each other for how long, & the shock of being together turned us all to stone.
“Good afternoon?” said Martin.
Like that, like a question. Not sarcasm, just shock.
“Hi Honey. How are you?”
Kenji murmured, “I’m so sorry. I’ll go. I’m really sorry—”
“No, Baby, stay right here. It’s OK, really.”
I set my hand on Kenji’s shoulder. He was trembling & everything, instantly almost-off-the-charts distraught. Some days it takes nothing whatsoever to upset him. Like when he fell asleep & let the cup of tea I’d made for him get cold, I think the word for that is “inconsolable.”
“Martin, you doing OK?” I said. Too loud, I think.
Martin nodded & shrugged & tossed his hands in the air all at the same time. He looked thin, poor Honey. Tired. Not as thin as K & not even half as tired, but anyway I just don’t want to think about the silence.
Martin: “Well, I was actually just coming to call you. Coming here. That is. To call you. Instead of calling from work. & then after that I was going to go back to work. Cuz it’s a work day.”
“Nabi, I should go,” K whispered.
“No, Kenji, don’t move a muscle. Oh really, Honey? What about?”
M & K were back to staring at each other. Not like cowboys in cowboy movies, more like stray cats staring at oncoming cars. Except both of them were already in pain. Cuz of me.
“Martin? What did you want me for, Honey?” I said gently.
He cleared his throat & said, “Well.”
He looked at K & cleared his throat again. My hand on K’s shoulder was a clamp, the other hand had the bag with the drill in it. Of all things, Martin came out with: “Char Richards.”
Kenji closed his eyes. Like the executioner’s right behind him with the axe.
“I understand she’s left Clocktower,” said Martin.
My hand gave K a squeeze. He blinked at Martin, blinked at me.
“You didn’t get the email?” Martin took out his phone.
I said, “No, we…” We’d been zonked most of the time. Kenji held onto the hand I’d put on his shoulder.
“One of Falk’s secretaries copied all 3 of us. ‘Mrs Furbert. The employee concerned in your inquiry is no longer with the company. Regards.’ So I did a little digging. You may be aware that I have certain official-unofficial contacts with access to sensitive information. They’re unofficial in the sense that I can’t share what they say or who they are with anyone, but I can use what they say to point my team in the right direction, if you follow me. They’re official in the sense that they’re intimately connected with law enforcement—”
“Char’s dead, isn’t she,” said Kenji.
“What? No, she isn’t dead. What gave you that idea? Actually, you know what? Don’t answer that,” said Martin.
“Honey,” I said gently.
“She’s joined the FBI,” said Martin. To Kenji, really. Then my husband looked at me & said, “FBI.”
Kenji groaned. Martin looked at the kitchen counter like he wasn’t sure it really was his own kitchen counter.
I said, “Just like that? Any so-&-so can just up & join the FBI?”
“Typically, no,” said Martin.
“& she can’t have got fired all that long ago. When’d you say the secretary wrote you?”
“They wrote to you, Nabilah. They copied me. Nabilah, you start a stone rolling down a hill like this & don’t keep track of it?! Don’t answer that either. Richards wasn’t fired, she resigned. You’re right she left the company mere days ago, prbly after you sent that reckless email. I’m not claiming there is any correlation between the 2 events—”
K: “Course there is. Char wouldn’t risk triggering an investigation. She doesn’t want anyone presuming to decide her fate. If she was gonna take a dive, she’d want to do it her own way.”
Me: “Excuse me. You do not live in no demon-woman’s head, thank you.”
M: “She’s an expert financial auditor. There’s no doubt she’ll be a certified fraud examiner within weeks.”
Me: “Prbly got lots of practice. Looking for ways to portray people as embezzlers or gambling addicts or whatever. So it’d make sense that they’d you know.”
“Do themselves in,” said M.
; I gave him my kick-under-the-table look. K was rubbing his head & frowning at the drill bag. M has a way of not noticing looks or kicks when they’re inconvenient. He looked at the drill bag too.
“I’ve inferred from what I’ve heard that as soon as she decided to resign, Richards offered her services to the Bureau & was recruited on the spot.”
“Power means more to Char than money. Sticking it to whoever,” said K.
“Yes, well, it seems to me, though this will never be confirmed, that they recruited her on the spot not only cuz of her credentials & the Bureau’s sorry track record as an equal-opportunity employer, but also cuz she offered in exchange, on the proverbial silver platter, the names & details of multiple corporate executives whom she claims are guilty of insider trading, inflating expenses, selling nonexistent shares, & so on. & not just in the insurance sector. Not just men either, contrary to what you might—”
Kenji grabbed the drill bag. “Can we borrow this? I mean, I guess, can I borrow this?”
Me: “Baby, wait. Sit down. We gotta process this. Obviously the Bureau (!) don’t know about Aetna Simmons. Or about Erik. Or I mean anything about Bermuda, right, Martin? Kenji, bye, gimme that thing.” I put the bag of sharp hole-making things on the counter.
Martin: “One would infer that since what Aetna Simmons did would be of no help to anyone besides an insurance company, it would hardly be in Richards’ best interests to mention her or Erik. For the same reason, I should think former-VP Richards would avoid drawing any connection between herself & Bermuda.”
My sigh of relief nearly floated me to the ceiling. Then it went all the way thru my toes into the floor.
“Thank you, Martin,” I said.
“Not a problem,” he said softly. He put his phone in his pocket.
The knot in Martin’s tie was a little off. Not askew, just not precise enough for Martin. I pulled the wraparound bit down about 2 mm to finish covering the knotty bit. I’d forgot about my rings, but Honey saw of course, he looked horrified. Kenji in his corner had his head in his hands. Martin & I looked at each other, poor Honey bursting to say something & wishing with all his heart I’d say it for him. Something to do with hope.
I said, “Thank you. We should go.” I put my hand in Kenji’s hair. “Seriously, the drill & stuff. Can we use it?”
Martin sighed. Not like my sigh.
“Just don’t tell me what it’s for,” he said.
“I’ll bring it back.”
“You will?”
My husband of 8 years looked at me with hope & terror. I glanced at Kenji on the floor, the man who loves me more than his own life looking at me with hope & terror.
I’d never imagined this. I’d been trying not to think about this. Trying like crazy.
I looked at Martin & told myself I wouldn’t cry.
I said, “Yeah, I will, but I won’t stay.”
Kenji let his breath out. Martin looked at the floor.
“I’m real sorry, Martin. I’m real grateful—”
“If we’re finished, Nabilah, say it. Say it or make a promise. Don’t expect me to do it for you. & don’t make Kenji do it. Whatever you do now is entirely your doing,” said Martin.
His face was trembling. Kenji’s too. I felt like I was dying. I know I’ve got enough love & laughs & strength in me for both of them, I know I do.
Then again, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m just arrogant. Maybe being arrogant almost made me a murderer.
& by the way, acegirl, who are you kidding about the strength? You looked at Kenji, you looked into his eyes, you lifted up his chin so you could see his love & soak it up & turn that strength of his, the courage to go on loving you, into courage of your own—but a whole different kind.
“We’re finished, Martin. I’m sorry.”
You wouldn’t have thought anything, not gods or anything, could love with the love that hurricaned in Kenji’s eyes right then, acute just like the storm, lavish like leaves & grass & snails & whistling frogs & things the rain brings out of the woodworks, mixed up & excessive like the colors that the sun flings all over the sky for no reason, & the thing is, he couldn’t help it! Kenji wouldn’t have done it if he could help it, he wouldn’t have exposed himself like that in front of Martin, especially not in that moment. That was the kind of moment where Kenji would’ve held everything in, swallowed it & hidden it & even smiled at me, just so no matter what I did I’d feel like I was doing the right thing. But he can’t do that no more. Doing it all those years used him up to the last drop, so now my Kenji is too weak not to show the helpless strength of his love. & instead of holding it in, he surrendered to it, he had to, he surrendered everything, & the strength not to resist it anymore filled his eyes up, & if it wasn’t for that strength, I kid you not, I would’ve puddled on the floor in the awful silence.
“Yes. Well,” said Martin.
& in the other awful silence.
“Please go now. Both of you,” said Martin.
Kenji flung out his hands. I pulled him up, & he made sure I didn’t fall.
We couldn’t say anything. We held each other around the waist as we walked down the drive. Kenji walked me to the driver’s side of his car cuz he saw I was dazed, but he didn’t say nothing, he was dazed. By the time we got to Middle Road, I couldn’t see. Kenji said, “Pull over, Nabi, quick.” & I did & I crash-landed in the arms of the best friend I almost killed.
We didn’t even think about who might be watching, we couldn’t have cared less, Kenji kept crying, “I promise! I promise!” as we blocked up the entrance to the plant nursery, Kenji’s expensive car all slanty half in & out the street cuz the driver kept on crying. & Kenji held my face & Kenji kissed me everywhere that there were tears & Kenji said, “Nabi, we have to go get rid of everything. We gotta go & do it now.”
“No Kenji, take me home, hide me forever,” I moaned.
“I will. I promise you I will. I love you, Nabi, I’m so sorry about everything, that’s why you gotta help me, I can’t do this by myself, I’ve gotta make sure you’re safe. I need us to be sure, Nabi, as best we can.”
His feverish look said clear & deafening he couldn’t rest till we’d done whatever he thought we had to do. Cars & bikes must’ve been wiggling around us, people trying to pass the plant nursery, but we lot didn’t have a clue. I whined some more, & Kenji whispered, “I know. It hurts real bad & you just want to fall asleep in the darkest possible place. Believe me, Nikkou, I know. Just this one thing. I can’t do it without you. Then we can sleep & then, you know, if you want, face the rest of it together.”
“I won’t get thru one more second unless you’re here. Now. Every now. You understand? Kenji, I’m serious. Do you understand how much I love you? Do you finally?”
We flooded each other, I felt weak like I would faint, Kenji breathed into my mouth again & again, & I couldn’t help throwing myself open, surrendering to the aching wish we’d always known & never understood cuz our love is better than both of us. & Kenji put his forehead against my forehead, Kenji said, “I understand.”
Then there was this BRRRPPP!!! from the water truck that was just trying to pass the plant nursery or visit the plant nursery. Baby & I jumped a mile, my Love wiped my face with his hands, his acegirl hollering, “Don’t go calling me an impostor ever again, don’t go acting like one either!” & Kenji said, “OK,” & said, “Get us outta here, Nikkou.” & ya girl made a squealing U-turn in the plant nursery & cut off the water truck & a minibus full of tourists to get back on Middle Road. My sweet genius was in the middle of telling me his idea when he spied Southampton Post Office & we peeled in. I jumped out, grabbed an armload of the phone books they had in the doorway, threw them in the trunk.
However many trips to & from the car, Kenji wouldn’t let me make a single one of them alone, he refused to take one step empty-handed. Besides our other stuff, it took 2 of us to
carry the charcoal from the shop at the marina. K looked terrible by the time he plopped on Ethelberta’s bench, feeling sick & fighting it. It was too much, he knew it & wouldn’t stop. I plopped beside him, but he’d only let me hold him for a minute.
“Sun moves so fast,” he whispered. He kissed me, anxious & badly out of breath. He went & started up the engines, I cast off the moorings. He didn’t want to stop at the gas station (“We lot gonna be out of gas long before the boat”), but I insisted on that one thing. We didn’t know how far we’d be going, not like accurately.
So while Ethelberta glug-glug-glugged herself up to the brim, Kenji & I made a point of not seeing how much it cost, I leaned against him & said, “Don’t do it. Just let me wipe everything from the past 2 months or so. I bet I can make it so it was never there.” Baby just shook his head.
We drove around Bermuda’s curly tip. The sun chased us southwest. I wanted Kenji close to me, the 2 of us squeezed onto Ethelberta’s driving bench. I made him promise to keep an arm around me at all times.
My need for him scares me, how it’s exploded. It’s physical need but not just about attraction, it’s psychological & I guess spiritual but not only about love. Maybe it’s not even new, maybe I just hadn’t noticed it. That scares me too cuz I can’t afford not to recognize what Kenji’s feeling anymore, cuz I need him & it scares me…
The ocean was restless, steely blue, it frightened me like it never did before. It’s too big for us, it has no sympathy for us, what if it doesn’t accept our secrets, what if it swallows us instead before we’ve even had a chance? & once we left Dockyard there was nothing to see ahead but ocean, & I could only look ahead. I was tired fit to cry, but I was driving. Over the Rim Reef & Terrace Reef we went (according to the sketchy maps we’d glanced at on our phones before we sailed away from all the cell towers). Outside the reefs, the ocean rocked us & spat on us. The swells got bigger & grayer, the sky got grayer & thicker, the sun & ocean closed in on each other. Ethelberta’s pointy end climbed & dropped & climbed & dropped.
Drafts of a Suicide Note Page 45