Army of One

by A. K. Henderson

  * * *

  After explaining everything to his most trusted friend, Shamar felt relieved that he had finally been able to get it all out of his system. He had always been an emotional person, having been raised by his mother. It was the Gangster Disciples and other neighborhood OGs who taught him everything he knew about being a man. In the streets, he couldn’t afford to show feelings. As Kaduwey would say, “Feelings will get you killed.”

  “All right, folk, enough talking about feelings. You cried it out; now, let’s get back to this money. You blowing my high,” Kaduwey said, laughing. “You gonna be straight my nig, all right?” he added, trying to redirect the conversation.

  Shamar agreed. It was time to check out the whips he had for him to pick from so he could run the errands he had planned for that evening. They walked to the garage in the back of the trap house where there were two cars hidden under dusty cloths.

  “Aw, yeah, what you hiding under there, Wey? Let me find out you still got it.”

  Kaduwey smiled, looking almost as excited as Shamar appeared to be. He knew what the “it” was Shamar was referring to. Under the first cloth sat an ’87 box Chevy Caprice with a candy-apple red custom paint job and matching rims.

  Shamar’s eyes lit up, and memories resurfaced in his mind, taking him back to the first pack he’d ever moved. He was staring at the first car he had ever bought with his own money. Kaduwey knew how much it meant to Shamar, so he restored it and kept it for him. “Man, bruh, this is crazy! Thanks, yo,” Shamar exclaimed, giving Kaduwey some dap and a hug, thanking him for looking out for him. For the moment, everything was back to normal for them; it was like the old days. While they celebrated, an all-too-familiar feeling came over Shamar. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He began to scan the area for something out of the ordinary.

  “Yo, G, what’s up? What’s wrong? You got that look in your eyes,” Kaduwey inquired.

  “I don’t know, Wey. Something don’t feel right. You recognize the blue Impala over there by the train tracks? It’s just sitting there and you know a minute too long could mean jump-out boys or a drive-by.” If there was one thing the streets and combat taught Shamar, it was to always follow his instincts.

  “Naw, man, I don’t think so. It is kinda weird them fools just decided to stop right there.”

  Suddenly, the Impala’s tires screeched as the car took off, heading in their direction, swerving left and right and making the right-hand turn just in front of Kaduwey’s house. The front and rear driver’s side windows rolled down. Just like a scene from a movie, everything seemed to slow down. As the shots rang out, it sounded like a war zone. Bullets ricocheted off of the house and cars as Shamar and Kaduwey ran from the front of the house and ducked behind his SUV parked in the driveway. “I can’t believe I let a fool catch me slippin’,” Kaduwey shouted, trying to reach for his pistol, which was tucked beside his driver’s seat.

  Bullets continued to blaze past their heads for what seemed like forever. The smell of gun powder filled the air. Glass shattered all around them as neither were able to return fire. All they could do was stay down and take cover. The Impala drove completely past the house and headed away from the scene, turning the nearest corner and almost taking out a light pole.

  Shamar could see images of Iraq flashing in his mind. This was the reason he left the city in the first place. Kaduwey could be heard breathing heavy and coughing. He moaned and groaned, holding his stomach. When the shooting stopped, everything went quiet. That was, until the sound of sirens could be heard coming from every direction.

  “Ahh, I can’t believe this! Wey, you good?” Shamar called out from the other side of the SUV as he continued to survey the block, making sure those would-be assassins didn’t circle back. He couldn’t see Kaduwey on the other side of the vehicle. When he looked over, blood was pouring from his side, and he wasn’t moving. He bear crawled around the back of the vehicle and discovered his best friend slumped over on the ground. His breathing was shallow, and suddenly his medic training kicked in as he snatched off his T-shirt, balling it up and pressing it on top of Kaduwey’s wound.

  Shamar got on his phone and called 911, giving them the details. The police and ambulance arrived while he was still on the line. The police wouldn’t let him ride in the ambulance; but, the last he knew, Kaduwey was still breathing. Shamar called and told Jelisa to meet him as he rushed over to the ER.

  The waiting room was full of police and all of the homies from the block. Jelisa tried consoling Kaduwey’s girlfriend, Ashley. As they sat in the waiting area, Shamar fortified himself in a corner. Jelisa cautiously approached and sat down next to him.

  “Baby, you okay?” she said, placing her hand on his knee. “I’m so sorry about your friend. Is there anything I can do?”

  Shamar was growing more irritated by the second. He kept his head down and whispered under his breath, “What you could do is get your hand off of me.”

  Jelisa was offended. She leaned back, scrunching her nose up. Shamar checked himself. “My bad, baby girl. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I’m just saying, I’ve been home two days and look at everything that’s happened. I flipped out on you, Wey’s lying up in there with holes in him, and I’m supposed to be here trying to keep things together. Why is this happening to me?” Shamar lamented.

  “Baby, I wish I could make it better, but I know I can’t. Don’t worry about what happened with us earlier. I know you would never hurt me on purpose. I just think you need to take some time to really get away from all of this. Let’s pray your friend pulls through, and then we can pick somewhere and just go. Okay?” Jelisa did her best to comfort her brokenhearted soldier, but the best she could do was just be there for him. Shamar was slowly shrinking away into his own shadow, reaching the darkest places of his mind.

  A nurse came out a few hours later to deliver an update to Kaduwey’s family. He must have had angels around him because she said he should make a full recovery, but it would be touch and go for the time being. Everyone looked at Shamar for some kind of confirmation as to how to react. He stood with his arms folded and a blank stare on his face, still visibly disturbed. The family sat and stood around crying and hugging each other in disbelief. They finally let the family go back and see Kaduwey. Shamar stayed behind out of respect for them.

  Kaduwey asked for Shamar to come into his room after he’d had a chance to talk with his family. “What’s good, folk? Why you standing way over there? Do I look that bad?” Kaduwey said jokingly as Shamar remained in the doorway.

  His mind was telling his feet to walk, but seeing his brother laid up with tubes everywhere paralyzed him. “I’m cool, bruh,” he said, inching his way closer to his partner. The only thing he could think of was the beeping sound of the machine next to the bed. “Wey, you sure you good? I don’t want to touch nothing or mess nothing up.” Shamar nervously walked to his bedside and sat down in the chair next to him. You would think with being a medic he’d be used to seeing things like this. However, this wasn’t like any situation he’d been in before. It was his best friend, not some random civilian on the battlefield. It was his brother, and he never imagined he would ever see him like this. Kaduwey’s mother and girlfriend stood off to the side as the friends talked.

  “I can’t believe this happened, man. I should have been strapped. I should have done something,” Shamar repented. He was feeling guilty for not being able to protect his friend; much like he felt when he found out Omar had been killed. He wished he could have been there as well.

  Kaduwey appreciated his concern, but he wasn’t much for the dramatics stuff. “Look, G, I know you’re feeling some type of way about all of this. But trust me; it’s already taken care of, ya dig? But I need you to do something for me.”

  Shamar glanced over with a puzzled look on his face.

  “I know you don’t like talking about it, but I’m telling you that you need to handle that Chrissy situation.”

  “Wey, co
me on now, man, I told you—”

  Struggling to sit up, Kaduwey cut him off. “I know, I know, but hear me out. Man, lying up here with the holes and tubes in me gave me a lot to think about.” He let out a gut-wrenching cough, sounding like he was about to spit up one of his lungs. “You need to find out the truth about that little girl. You can’t let her get away with avoiding you and the truth. You keep on worrying about messing her family up, but it’s going to tear your family apart in the end.”

  Shamar remained silent, replaying memories of the last encounter with Chrissy. “All right, man. You ain’t going to let this go, are you? This better not blow up in my face. I know that much.”

  “It won’t. Trust me.” He let out another violent cough, this time spitting up blood all over himself.

  “Wey, you all right, man? Nurse!” Shamar shouted.

  The coughing continued, becoming more painful; and the machines in the room beeped faster. When the nurse arrived, she asked everyone to leave the room. Kaduwey’s mother and girlfriend were stricken with fear as they were ushered out of the room. Shamar’s heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach as he followed them. He paced back and forth, trying not to add to the family’s worry. Panic filled the waiting area as the curtains were drawn while the medical staff continued to work.

  Twenty minutes later, a doctor emerged from the room with a disappointed look on his face. “I’m sorry, everyone. There has been a change in Mr. Jones’s condition. There was some internal bleeding, which we’ve managed to stop, and he is still breathing on his own. But, unfortunately, he isn’t responding.”

  While the doctor was still talking, Shamar got up, stormed out of the waiting area, and left the building. Jelisa, who was around the corner in another hall on the phone with Shawnie, ran behind him, following him to his car. All Shamar heard was “coma” and “we’ll have to wait.” Everything else was a blur.

  Jelisa finally caught up with him. “Baby, wait up! Hold up, honey. It’s going to be okay, baby,” she said, rubbing small circles on the middle of his back.

  Shamar ignored her attempt to encourage him. He climbed into his car, followed by her climbing into the passenger’s seat, and they drove home in silence. Jelisa knew better than to press the issue, so she left Shamar to his thoughts. He slept through the night with only one other thing on his mind: Chrissy.

  * * *

  It didn’t take long for the hood to find out who was responsible for the attempted assassination. One of Kaduwey’s many enemies from Gary had put some of his goons on him. By the end of the night, the two men responsible were floating somewhere off the coast of Lake Michigan. Street justice came swiftly when it came to someone as respected as Kaduwey.

  The next morning, Shamar awoke with a massive headache and a knot in the pit of his stomach. With Jelisa gone to the shop for the rest of the day, he was faced with his friend’s last words to him. He questioned if he was really prepared to relive the madness that had once ensued between him and Chrissy. She, being the live wire she was, came fully packaged with years of self-hate and low self-esteem. She hated her black heritage that made her who she was, and she looked at every black man with disdain because of it which was odd to Shamar because she always had a thing for him.

  Shamar logged on to his laptop and pulled up his Facebook account, which he rarely used. He knew to be careful contacting Chrissy as she was known for blocking people and later stalking their page to make sure she wasn’t being blasted over the Web.

  After some brief research, a picture of Chrissy Reynolds came up as her profile picture. Shamar sighed as he anticipated her reaction to him reaching out. She was married, so it would make sense for her to be defensive of the life she had built over the years. Selecting her page, he clicked on message and hesitated before typing.

  Hey, Chrissy? he typed, and then anxiously awaited her response.

  What? she replied.

  What you mean what? We need to talk ASAP. Shamar couldn’t stand when females were short with him, but he was careful not to push her too soon.

  Shamar, what do you want?

  He wasn’t in the mood to argue with her, but he knew she was going to test him and he was determined not to fall for it. His face frowned up as he changed his posture, preparing to dig into her.

  Chrissy, stop playing with me, hear? We need to talk about shorty and don’t blow me off ’cause I’m not backing off of this. Call me now. You got the number. You’ve got five minutes. Try me if you want to.

  Chrissy didn’t respond right away, and Shamar wondered if he had blown it. The moments that passed were hell to live through. After ten minutes, his cell phone vibrated.

  “Hello? Chrissy, what’s good?”

  “Shamar, stop talking like we cool or something!” Chrissy snapped. “The only reason I called you is because you putting me in a bad situation. You know this ain’t even fair. I told you she ain’t yours.”

  Shamar figured she would plead with him to change his mind, but it was already settled. He owed it to himself to find out. Plus, the weight of Kaduwey’s words wouldn’t let him leave it alone. “Chrissy, I’m not trying to argue with you; and stop trying to put this all on me. You’re acting like I’m doing something wrong to you. We in this together whether you like it or not. At the end of the day, you have to prove me wrong.”

  Chrissy was starting to get agitated by Shamar’s nonchalant attitude. “Shamar, how many times do I have to tell you that she don’t look like you? That child is white, period, point blank. So I don’t have to prove nothing to you. Now, why don’t you just leave me and my family alone?” Her voice began to tremble the more she tried to convince him to let it go.

  “Chrissy, you already know what’s next if you keep testing me. You know me. I don’t play about my kids.”

  Chrissy began to panic. She knew exactly what he would do next, and she couldn’t afford to have her secret blasted all over the city. If Shamar took her to court, there was a strong chance he could be right, and she’d have to own up to everything. “Shamar, please don’t ruin my life or my daughter’s life. I swear to God she is not yours. If she were darker, maybe I could see that; but she don’t even look like she has any black in her. And, no offense, but I’m so glad she doesn’t. I would just kill myself if I even thought there was a possibility she was yours. I’m sorry you feel this way. But I promise you she’s not yours. Just let it go,” Chrissy pleaded with him with everything she had in her, but he wouldn’t budge. “Shamar, let it go. Let me go. You don’t have to do this. Just leave us alone! Don’t call me, don’t message me, just leave me alone. She’s not yours!” Chrissy proclaimed, hanging up on him.

  Frustrated, Shamar slammed his fist on the computer desk and let out a loud grunt. “This girl is going to make me hurt her. I guess it’s business as usual. Let’s make it happen,” he said, giving himself a pep talk.

  He looked across the room at Mya, who had fallen asleep playing in the middle of the living room. As he approached her, he stood there staring at her, trying to see if there was any resemblance to Chrissy’s daughter. The uncertainty was driving him crazy. But, for now, there was nothing he could do. He’d have to handle things once he was back from Iraq for good.

  Chapter Twelve

  By the end of the first week, Shamar was beyond ready to leave Indiana. Who would’ve thought he’d actually be looking forward to returning to Iraq with his unit? Things between him and Jelisa were strained, and he knew at some point his conscience would force him to tell her about Chrissy and her daughter. They hadn’t talked about the fact that another guy answered her phone. With everything that was going on it was the last thing on his mind. Compared to everything else it was minute.

  While he was on the way to meet with up with Jelisa’s father, he stopped by the shop to pay her a surprise visit. Making his way through the parking lot, Shamar caught a glimpse of Jelisa through the front window. She looked so unhappy standing behind her client and looking up every so often. As he caught th
e door behind someone coming out, Shamar managed to get near Jelisa’s workstation undetected.

  The women looking on watched with envy as Shamar crept up behind her, holding a bouquet of pink roses. He admired her curvy hips and the way her smock hugged her chest. Jelisa had no idea her lover was standing there, ready to romance her; but as a shop door swung closed, a cold breeze let her catch a whiff of Shamar’s cologne. It stopped her in her tracks as the aroma gave her chills.

  “Um, well, look at that. What I gotta do to get with that?” Shamar said, disguising his voice.

  Not taking too kindly to the offensive gesture, Jelisa, barely looking over her shoulder, responded with an attitude, “I know you’re not talking to me like that.”

  Trying to push her to pop off, Shamar slapped her right butt cheek.

  Jelisa immediately spun around, fully prepared to snap. Before she could get another word out, Shamar grabbed her by the waist, bringing her closer to him. He planted a romantic kiss on her lips, and it was as if her body completely melted.

  “Oh my God. Shamar, what are you doing? Boy, you better quit playing with me. I thought I was tripping at first when I smelled your cologne. What are you doing here?” Jelisa displayed a huge smile and was filled with excitement, seeing him standing there.

  “I just wanted to come and see about you. I want to take you out to lunch so we can talk. You up for it?”

  “Yeah, we can do that. Give me like fifteen minutes and I’ll be ready. Where is Mya, with my mom?”

  Just then, Donny appeared from the back room, talking on his cell phone. Before Shamar could answer Jelisa’s question about Mya, his attention was drawn to Donny, who was now standing across the room, laughing. Shamar’s grin turned into a frown as he recognized that voice.

  “Baby, what’s wrong with you? Why you looking like that?” Jelisa asked as a look of worry covered her face. She knew that look, and it meant things were about to go from good to horrible real soon.