The Donor: When Conception Meets Deception

by Brother Dash

  “Listen, I know I messed up. I messed up big time. But if you would just let me explain. I can. I can—“

  "You can what Chase? You could have explained the day we met. You could have explained in our first phone conversation, our first date, the first night we slept together, our first vacation, the night you met my parents, the night you fucking proposed for crying out loud. You had four goddamn years to explain. Why now? You done found religion or something? You wanna confess your sins to the church? There’s no fixing this. You’re on a child sex offender list, Chase,” Jenae yells.

  “Bumbaclot!” Mrs. Mahone shrieks and drops her broom.

  “Jenae, I am not a sex offender,” Chase whispers. “It was all a—“

  "Misunderstanding? Conspiracy? Travesty of justice? Have you forgotten I'm a lawyer? I’ve heard it all.”

  “Actually, it kind of is all of those, if you would just—“

  “Oh my God. This punk bitch here,” Shauntelle says and tosses her hands up. “‘Nae, let's get the rest of your stuff and leave this pervert on the street with the rest of the trash.”

  Shauntelle pushes Chase to the side and walks up the steps. Jenae follows.

  "Jenae wait. I love you. Please listen to me. You're my world. I can't. I can't do this without you. I need you. Baby I'm begging you. I don't care. I don't care about anything, anyone else but you. You're my heart Jenae. Look at me. Don’t do this,” Chase drops to his knees. “Please, please. I love you.”

  Jenae pauses at the top step. Her back is to Chase. Shauntelle looks at Jenae with a, Why are you hesitating? stare. Chase hopes the fire of his plea can melt the frost around her heart. But her arms stiffen like wood planks and her fists clench.

  “You…love…me? What do you know of love?…Answer me," she yells. "What do you know?"

  "Jenae I—“

  “Love? Love is when a woman’s heart opens just from a man’s smile. Love is when she ignores her eyes, to believe his tongue. Love is tolerating corporate men gawking at her like a tasty slab of beef, but she gets to come home to a man who holds her tight, and tells her everything’s going to be alright. Love is dreaming that you will still slow dance with that man on a country porch fifty years from now. That’s love. What do you know of love? You know nothing of love. But you know a hell of a lot about another word. A word called, hurt.”

  Jenae hovers over him as he remains on bent knee. Both of their eyes burning, and filling with the scalding heat of pain drenched tears. Without hesitation Chase leaps. He seizes her shoulders, corrals her chest to his, and forces a kiss. She squirms and wriggles in his vise like clutch. He protrudes his tongue into her resistant mouth.

  "Mmph. Argh. Ugh. Mmph,” she protests as his mouth refuses to release. His fingers spindle her mahogany twists as he makes a fist, locking her hair in his grasp. Shauntelle comes bounding down the steps but before she could interrupt, Chase screams in pain and immediately let’s go.

  "Arrrgh," Chase yells as he hunches over and grabs his mouth. A drop of blood drips from his bottom lip.

  “You bit me,” he slobbers.

  "That's right girl. Bite his ass. Bite him, bite him, crunch that shit,” Shauntelle says. “Boy, what you think? You think this is some corny ass chick flick? You gonna shove your nasty, lying ass tongue down my sister’s throat and she’s just gonna melt ‘cause you said, baby I love you? How your tongue feel now, muscle man?” Shauntelle taunts.

  "How could you do this to me Chase? To us? To Devantay…Oh my God Devantay. I didn't even think about him. Did you…touch?”

  “No. Hell no. Never. Not ever. No. I didn’t even do what that envelope says I did,” Chase says.

  “You did something far worse Chase.”

  “Jenae, I love you.”

  “And I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!” Jenae paces back and forth on the rough concrete. Her arms flailing and her tears flowing. ”You destroyed us. You humiliated me. You hurt me. You ripped my heart out. You-You-I just-Aaah-Aaah.” Jenae bawls and hyperventilates. “You know what? I can’t. I just can’t. I can’t talk. I can’t breathe. Keep whatever is left in that house. Keep it all. I can't stand the sight of you. I can’t stand the smell of you. I can't stand the taste of you.”

  HACH-TUCH-SPIT

  Jenae spits in his face. The wet glob oozes down like a slug. She stands with hands trembling and body shivering in the warm spring air. Shauntelle rushes to her aid. She smoothes her palm over her sister’s wet cheeks and kisses her forehead.

  “Shhhh. It’s okay. You gonna be alright. I got you. Come on sis. Let's go,” Shauntelle braces the crying Jenae on her shoulder and ushers her into the minivan.

  "Wait. Please. Jenae. Baby I’m so sorry,” Chase runs to the passenger door, still wincing from his sore tongue. Shauntelle slides into the driver seat and rolls the power windows up in Chase’s face. A distraught Jenae buries her face in her palms; the van drives off. It reaches the street corner but waits at the stop sign. Chase’s heart jumps as the van suddenly reverses and slows in front of him. Jenae leans out of the window; Chase smiles. She flings a perfect strike—CLINK—CLUNK. A piece of metal ricochets off Chase’s forehead and lands on the pavement. Chase looks down to see Jenae’s diamond engagement ring in a pile of poop. Shauntelle leers at Chase and shifts the van’s gears. It zooms forward. The vehicle slows at the stop sign; the yellow blinker flashes, and makes a right turn. Jenae, the love of his life, is gone. Chase trembles as the black exhaust from the tailpipe dissipates. He has little time to brood however.

  “Hmmm, now would you look at that. That is literally a poetic pile of shit,” a voice says. It belongs to a well dressed middle aged man. He’s leaning over the mound of manure, peering with one eye, like a pop-up street philosopher. Chase sniffles, wipes the salty tears from his blurry eyes. The stranger comes into focus.

  “Frank? Attorney LaRocca? What—what are you doing here? You followed me?” Chase says.

  “Followed you? Oh no, no. I’ve been sitting in that black Audi over there. I got here as your girlfriend, well ex-girlfriend now I presume, was moving her stuff out.”

  “This day can’t get any crazier. Now I have a corporate lawyer stalking me,” Chase balls up his fists and lunges at the attorney. “Look motherfu—“

  “Whoa, whoa, relax Chase. I’m not stalking you.” Frank holds up his palms and steps back. “Remember in the restroom I told you that you should go home? That was because I was expecting this call,” Frank says as he holds up a cell phone.

  “A call?” Chase says, relaxing his hands.

  “I wanted to prep you when we were in the restroom but your mind wasn’t quite right. I didn’t know your girlfriend was going to be here. That was, whoohoo quite the scene,” he says with a chuckle. Chase fires a screw-faced glare. “Uh right. Sorry. I wasn’t laughing to be laughing. It was more of a…hey…small chuckle kind of…uh…never mind…here, you need to take this call.”

  “I’m not interested Frank. I’ve had enough surprises today. I know the bastard that did this to me. I’m going inside my house to figure out how I’m going to find and destroy him.” Chase walks towards the brownstone. A voice shouts from the speaker phone in Frank’s palm.

  “Chase, get back here.”

  Chase halts at hearing the familiar voice from the phone.

  “Bam? Wait that can’t be—”

  “Yeah, it’s me boy. Take the damn phone.”

  Chase is confused as to how this is possible. Frank hands it to him. He puts the phone to his ear.

  “Hey, all I see is your earwax. I’m on video,” Bam says.

  Chase looks perplexed. He cups the phone in both palms and extends his arms.

  “Bam? How are you on video chat? You got out that quick?” Chase says.

  “Out? Does it look like I’m out?” Bam pans the camera around. It is the same grey room Chase was in three months ago. Even the barrier that secludes Bam from the rest of the visitors is there. “I’m Bam Hickson. Why are you so surprised that
I can be on video from in here? But I didn’t call you so you could see my pretty face. We have other matters don’t we?”

  “Hell yes we have other matters. Starting with that asshole son of yours.” Chase’s voice rises. “Bam, I don’t know what Eugene told you, but he lied. He didn’t go away like he promised. He just laid low. Until now. Today he sent letters—”

  “Chase,” Bam says.

  “Sent them to the school, Devantay’s group home—”

  “Chase.”

  “And the worst thing Bam. The worst thing. This snake. This, this fucking weasel. He goes and sends one to Jenae’s job. My fiancée’s job Bam!”

  “Chase, you’re not listening,” Bam says.

  “We gotta get this dude. Where is he? I need your help finding him. I want to know where he is right now.”

  “Chase stop pacing back and forth you’re making me dizzy. Eugene is right here.”

  Chase stops.

  “Here? What do you mean? He’s there visiting you right now?”

  “Chase, where’s Frank? Frank, Frank can you hear me?” Bam says.

  “Yeah Bam I’m right here,” Frank hollers from a maple tree he’s been leaning against.

  “Wait a sec that reminds me,” Chase says. “How in the world do the two of you know each other? Bam, this guy is a lawyer. He was in Dean Ganges’ office when she showed me the envelope.”

  “Chase calm down. First of all, what did I always tell you about conducting business?”

  Chase shrugs.

  “Look around. Where are you?” Bam says. Chase does as asked. He sees the couple in the brownstone next door acting as if they are talking amongst themselves. He sees Mrs. Mahone across the street, broom back in hand. He has an Aha moment.

  “Of course. I wasn’t thinking. I’m outside putting my business in the street,” Chase says into the phone screen.

  “Exactly,” Bam says. Frank gestures for Chase to walk up the stoop. Chase does so and Frank follows him inside. Chase enters the living room and hesitates by the leather sofa. The clear visual of Jenae’s absence punches him in the mid-section. Paintings, sculptures, knick-knacks from trips abroad are all gone. But now is not the time to sulk. Chase leans the phone against the spine of a book on the mantle as if it were a painting he was placing on an easel. Bam’s bald head and full red freckled jowls fill the smartphone’s screen.

  “Okay that’s better. Hmmm, nice place you got. Anyway, listen up because I don’t have much time. Eugene is here at Jesup. I had Frank put me in touch with him and I made him turn himself in.”

  “Turn himself in? For what?” Chase asks.

  “Eugene got cases Chase. Extortion crap, nothing like me. He ain’t quite big time, but he was sloppy down here before he caught up to you in New York. We dropped dime on him and then Frank pulled some strings to get his extradition to Georgia expedited a couple of months ago. I made him cop a plea, and I called in a favor with a judge to have him serve his time in Jesup. I need that boy near me. I realized that after your mess. He won’t be here for too long. But it should be long enough for me to straighten him out like I should have. Frank hooked it up nice. He’s good with shit like that. He’s the best Italian-Jew lawyer in the business. Ain’t that right Frankie?”

  “And you’re the craziest biracial, mulatto, octaroon, ethnic mutt I’ve ever met,” Frank says looking into the camera. The two men start laughing.

  “Bam, what the hell? What are you two? Besties?” Chase says.

  “Let’s just say we go way back. I owe Bam my life. Literally,” Frank says.

  “Same here,” Bam replies.

  “Okay, whatever with this middle aged buddy flick. I’ll be on the next flight down there Bam,” Chase says.

  “No, you won’t,” Bam says.

  “Bam, Eugene destroyed my life. He lied to you. You should be just as upset about this as I am.”

  “Chase.”

  “You know how you get when people betray you? When they lie to you.”

  “Chase.”

  “He sent packages to everyone that matters to me. Why is this even a debate?”

  “Chase, Eugene didn’t send the packages I did,” Bam says.

  "Eugene needs to pay for what he—wait—huh? What? Wuh-Wuh-What did you just say?"

  "Sit down Chase."

  Frank walks over and grabs the phone from the mantle. He places a hand on Chase's shoulder and ushers him to the couch. He props the smartphone on the coffee table in front of him.

  “You look a little shell-shocked. Yes, Chase. I was the one that sent the packages. Technically, I had Frank send them.”

  “I don’t under—How could—-But why would you—?”

  “I’ll get to that Chase. Frank's law firm has been under contract with the university for years. It's how we got you in as a grad student and how you got to be a full tenured professor so quickly. Hell, one of Frank’s dummy corporations owns the house you’ve been living in all this time. It’s been nice only having had to pay utilities on a million dollar Brooklyn brownstone all these years hasn’t it?"

  “Gee, thanks," Chase says rolling his eyes at Frank.

  “Look, Chase. Don't act like an ingrate," Bam says. "Understand your situation. You are a convicted child molester."

  Chase flinches.

  ”I know you got a raw deal. But I didn’t meet you until you got inside. Your case was already settled. It was high profile in the area too, so there were no strings I could pull. And that’s assuming I could’ve done anything anyway. The best me and Frank could do was to set you up right, for when you got out. I got you a new identity, and I set you up in Brooklyn because Frank had the right connections up there for you to have a fresh start. A new life.”

  "But Bam if you did all that to create a new life for me why would you destroy it? You did exactly what Eugene threatened to do. You exposed me.”

  “It’s simple Chase. I needed to kill you. You needed to die."

  Chase screws up his face and looks at Frank. Frank shrugs.

  "What the hell does that mean Bam?" Chase says.

  “Tevarus was a tall, athletic, gifted high school senior. Both on the field and in the classroom. But when it came to street smarts? Kid you were young and dumb. You walked down D block smelling like innocence.”

  “I was innocent,” Chase says.

  “I meant a different kind of innocent. The kind that’s like perfume to these monsters in here. I seen young boys like you come in, get turned out, ripped apart, broken, and didn't think much of it. I mean…I ain't Superman and I didn't get to be on top of the game by taking pity on every stray pup.”

  “Bam, we gotta cut this short. Warden’s about to do a sweep,” whispers a guard in Bam’s ear.

  “Alright I gotta make this quick. I saw something in you. You had a light, Chase. And I could see that you really shouldn't be in the joint. So I started asking around. Had my people look into your case and that confirmed it for me. They sent you to a place with some real bad dudes. Murderers, sadistic Jeffrey Dahmer white boy types, rapists that ain’t finished raping yet. You reminded me of what I could have been, maybe should have been to Eugene. Shit, I think the only time I ever hugged that little son of a bitch was when he was born. Anyway, you spend enough time locked up, alone with your thoughts, you start to realize you got some fucked up shit inside you. I guess you got lucky. You showed up right when I was having…I don’t know…a moment. So I took you under my wing.”

  "How does that translate into you blowing up my world Bam?"

  "I had issues with Eugene and I looked at you as a replacement. Kept you square. A straight shooter. You were a good kid. So I did what I do best. Hooked you up with a new identity. That type of thing is what got me locked up in this place. Anyway, you were my way of making up for not being who I should have been I guess."

  "So what does that have to do with me having to die? I still don't understand."

  “Eugene finding you, and blackmailing you, meant someone else cou
ld do it to. Tevarus would always be hovering over you. And that’s leverage that someone could use. And leverage leaves you vulnerable. Someone could eventually connect the dots back to Frank and myself. And I can’t have that. Not even for you. So I took away that power."

  "That wasn't your decision to make. This is my life Bam," Chase yells.

  "But that's just it Chase. It wasn't your life it was my life. I created Chase. You are Tevarus. So I killed Chase Archibald. Now Tevarus Huxley can live.”

  “That’s fucked up Bam. You promised me that you would fix this,” Chase says. His eyes looking like rose water.

  “I did fix it. One day you’ll see that.”

  "This is fixing things? Destroying my life is fixing things?"

  “How did things really unravel for you Chase? Was it because you were living your truth or because you were living a lie?"

  Chase slaps his palms on his head. His mind refuses to accept the possibility that there is some truth in Bam's words.

  "Listen to me very carefully Chase. You're a smart, ambitious man. I didn’t create that. That’s what’s always been inside of you. But I've done all that I can do for you. It's time for you to live. Frank will go over the details but you don't have to worry about anyone coming after you anymore. Not the university, and not the group home. We're taking care of all of that as we speak. Now, I can’t fix the part with your lady but I do hope you can work it out with her. You’ll have to move out of the house, find yourself a job, and figure out your life. Frank took care of your new Tevarus documents to get you started at least. All legit…mostly. Driver’s license, passport, new bank accounts, all that. Even started you off with five figures. Won’t last you forever but it gives you a leg up. Time to fly on your own. One more thing. This is the last you’ll see of me.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “I don’t believe in long ass goodbyes. Take back your life. Oh, and give your girl some time. You gotta give women that you did wrong some time to be in their feelings. Maybe she’ll come around. Maybe she won't. As for Devantay? I can’t fix that one either. The home won’t allow you back in his life. You’re just going to have to own the damage this has done to him.”