by Carl Weber
When I opened the door, Tiffany was sitting on the couch, still in her workout clothes. “Sonny, what are you doing home?”
“I came home for lunch. Why, did I miss something?”
“Well, sort of. The police were here.” She looked at me, probably wondering if I’d already known, considering how many times I’d demonstrated my “mind-reading” ability over the last few weeks.
“Yeah, I know. Mrs. Pollock from down the street told me when I pulled up.”
Tiffany shook her head. “Doggone it, Sonny. Why do you have the whole damn block spying on me?”
I smiled. “Don’t get mad at me because I’ve made friends on the block and you haven’t.”
“It’s kind of hard to make friends when everyone in the neighborhood thinks they’re on your payroll. I’m surrounded by spies. And how did she know those guys were cops, anyway? Did you have her listening at the door or something?”
She didn’t know how close she was to the truth. “C’mon, Tif. People in this neighborhood can spot an unmarked cop car from a mile away. Anyway, you wouldn’t be calling our neighbors spies if you didn’t have something to hide.”
“That’s bull and you know it.”
I waved my hand at her. “Whatever. So, why were the police in my house? And were you wearing that when they came in?” I gestured in the direction of her tight short shorts.
Tiffany wasn’t stupid. She knew what I was implying, and she did not want to be punished for breaking another rule, the one that said that no other man should be allowed to see her in anything shorter than knee-length. She avoided the second question, looking frightened as she said, “They came to ask me some questions about Kareem. He’s missing, and he hasn’t been seen in over a month.”
“Well, good riddance. He’s probably somewhere doing some shit he’s not supposed to do,” I said nonchalantly. Tiffany didn’t respond to that. “Hey, can a brother get a sandwich? I’m starved.” I figured I better eat before I put my foot in her ass.
“Sure, baby.” She got right back to the subject of Kareem as we walked into the kitchen. “This sure isn’t like him to disappear like this. They said he didn’t even cash his income-tax check, and I know that’s not like him.”
“Well, you never know. If we’re lucky, they’ll find him floating in a river somewhere and you can collect that life-insurance policy you took out on him.”
“Sonny, I don’t want him dead,” she said with mild disapproval in her voice. “That’s my kids’ father.”
I slammed my hand down on the kitchen table and spun around to face her. “No, they’re my kids! That motherfucker didn’t do shit for them or you. That’s why I killed his ass.” Tiffany froze, and I realized that my temper had possibly gotten me in trouble. I tried to clean it up. “I didn’t mean that. I was just joking.”
“You killed him?” This sounded like some kind of cross between a question and a statement.
“No, I didn’t. I just said that in anger,” I answered, opening the refrigerator casually and assuming the conversation was finished.
She wasn’t ready to let it go yet. “Sonny, tell me you didn’t have anything to do with this.”
I took the orange juice out of the refrigerator and placed it on the counter. “I already told you, I didn’t have anything to do with it. Now, can I get my sandwich?”
I expected to hear, “Sure, honey,” but when I turned to look at her, she was staring at me like she was still waiting for me to say something about the subject.
“What the fuck are you looking at, damn it? I told you, I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“You fuckin’ killed him!” She knew I hated it when she talked to me this way, especially when she got up in my face.
“Lady, you better slow your fucking roll, ’cause you are fuckin’ cruisin’,” I warned.
“Cruisin’ for what? You gonna kill me like you killed Kareem?” She put her finger in my face, and that was the last straw.
I grabbed her by the neck and dragged her to the basement door. “You wanna know if I killed him? I’ll show you if I killed him!”
“Sonny, noooooo!”
I opened the door and threw her down the stairs. “I told you to get outta my face, didn’t I?”
At the bottom of the steps, she was still moving around pretty good, but she wasn’t so damn talkative now. I walked down the stairs and over to a wine barrel in a corner of the basement. I pried off the cover, and the strong scent of vinegar filled the room. “You wanna know if I killed that motherfucker? You damn right I killed him. I beat his head in with a bat, then I put him in a barrel of vinegar so he wouldn’t smell.” I reached into the wine barrel. Tiffany screamed as I pulled out Kareem’s head.
“I love you, Tiffany, and as you can see, I’ll kill anyone who tries to get between us.” I walked over and pulled her to her feet. She was shaking as if it were fifty degrees below zero. “I think we have a little dilemma right now. I may love you, but I don’t trust you. I never did. That’s why I built this room before I asked you to move in.” I pointed to a cinder-block room with one door. “From now on, when I’m not home, you’re going to stay in there. I can’t have you talking to those cops again now that you know the truth about what I did for you.”
“No, I’m not. I’m not,” she protested, struggling to free herself from my grasp.
I smacked her. “Oh, you’re going in there, all right. And when I let you out, you’re going to be the perfect wife. ’Cause if you aren’t, I’m going to use Tony and Nikki for batting practice, then put them in barrels right next to their daddy.” She covered her mouth, her eyes wide open in horror. “Do we understand each other?”
She nodded as the first few tears escaped from her eyes.
“Good. Now get in there. The phone’s ringing, and I gotta go back to work. I’ll call the school and tell them that I’ll be picking the kids up from the after-school program on my way home this evening.”
42
James
I’d just stopped off at the Jamaican joint over by Rochdale Village for a beef patty and some coco bread when my cell started to ring. I got back in my UPS truck and checked the caller ID. It was my house, which didn’t make any sense because Cathy should have been at work.
“Hello.”
“Can you talk?” It was Cathy, all right, and she didn’t sound happy.
“Yeah, Cathy, what’s up?” I was still pissed off at her about the booty call last month, but she had been good about letting me come to see the boys whenever I wanted. She’d even let me bring them to my mother’s house to meet Marcus once. So, even if there wasn’t much warmth between us right now, we were on speaking terms, and I was grateful for at least that much. I still loved her after everything we’d gone through, and until she was ready to try again, I would always be there for her and the boys.
“I just got back from the school,” she said. “It seems we have a problem with Jay-Jay.”
“What type of problem? I know he ain’t fighting again.”
“Yes, he was fighting, but that’s not just it. I had a meeting with the school psychologist today. Jay-Jay’s grades are down, and he’s been acting up in class.”
“I’m gonna whip that boy’s ass.”
“No, James, it’s not his fault.” I was surprised by Cathy’s tone. Normally, when our sons misbehaved, she was right there with me, ready to discipline firmly.
“Not his fault? Whose fault is it?” I asked.
“Yours and mine. The psychologist seems to think that our separation is directly related to James’s behavior….” She was quiet for a few seconds. “And I think she’s right.”
Now I understood why she sounded so defeated, so tired. Our problems had been taking their toll on everyone, and now that it was following the boys to school, it felt like the final straw.
“Well, what are we supposed to do?” There was no sound on the other end, and for a moment, I thought maybe my cell phone had dropped the call. “Cath
y? You still there?”
She answered quietly. “Maybe you should move back in.” My mouth dropped open in shock, but before I could respond, she added, “Not in my bedroom, but in the basement. What do you think?”
Now it was my turn for silence. This was exactly what I’d been waiting for, a chance to move back home, but did I really want to do it this way? I wanted my wife to ask me back home because she wanted me there, not only because it was the right thing to do for the kids. And, of course, there was still one major obstacle—Marcus.
“I’m sorry, Cathy, but I can’t do it….” I didn’t even finish my sentence before she jumped in.
“What?” If it was possible, she sounded more upset than she’d been in a while, and lately her emotions had been running pretty high. “How could you not do this for your son?”
I didn’t let her anger get me riled up. “Cathy,” I said gently, “you know I love them and I’d do anything for my sons. I love you too. There’s nothing I want more than for us to be together as a family again.”
“Then what the hell is your problem, James?”
“It’s Marcus. Don’t forget, Cathy, he’s with me now, and he’s my son too. Are you ready to handle having him move in with you?”
After a long pause, her voice was less agitated when she answered. “That’s a lot to ask of me, James.”
“I know that, but his mother already deserted him, and I won’t do it too. He’s a good kid, and I’m going to do right by him. If you want me to come home, then he’s coming with me. But I’m giving you the choice. If you can’t handle it, tell me you don’t want me to come home, and I’ll understand. We’ll find another way to help Jay-Jay get through this.”
“Can’t you just ask your mother to keep him?” she asked, but her tone told me she already understood that solution would be impossible.
“That wouldn’t work, and you know it. My mother needs her life and her house back, and Marcus needs at least one of his parents with him.”
Cathy didn’t speak for a long time. I waited patiently, knowing this was not an easy decision for her to be making.
“You’re a good father, James,” she finally said. “Jay-Jay and Michael need you home.”
“I love my boys, Cathy. But do you think you can handle this? I don’t want you to say yes now and then take it out on Marcus once we’re living in the house.”
I heard her release a long sigh. “You know, we both made mistakes when we were having problems back then. The only difference is that she got pregnant and I didn’t.” The reminder of Cathy’s affair stabbed at me a little, but I knew this was a huge step toward reconciliation, so I remained silent. “He’s innocent in this whole thing, just like our boys are. We have to do what’s best for the boys…all three of them. Come home, James.”
“We’ll be there tonight,” I said, unable to suppress my excitement.
“You know, you’re going to have to do a lot more around the house and with the kids,” she pointed out.
“That would only make sense,” I responded, still unable to suppress the huge grin on my face.
“Don’t be asking me for no sex, either.”
“I won’t even go near your room unless you invite me in.”
She sighed heavily again. “All right, we can try it. But I reserve the right to kick both of your asses out at any time.”
“Done. We’ll see you after I get off work.” I closed my phone and started the truck, confident that my family would soon be whole, and my marriage could once again become strong.
43
Brent
I woke up to a blinding bright light. Was I dead? I knew I’d been attacked by a man with a baseball bat, I did remember that, but I felt no pain. It was almost as if I were floating. The light seemed to get more intense and closer to my eyes. Was it the light I’d heard people talk about on those documentaries about crossing over? In the church, people always talked about wanting to go home. Was that light the road home? Was I about to meet my maker, the Lord Himself? And if so, did this mean He’d forgiven me for my homosexuality and my adultery and was allowing me into Heaven? I waited for a voice. It didn’t take long before I heard one.
“Brent. Brent, can you hear me?” Was that it? Was it the voice of God calling me? It seemed so normal. I guess I was just conditioned to think that God’s voice would sound as deep as James Earl Jones’s or be followed by an echo or something spectacular. Then again, the Bible says that man was created in God’s image, so why couldn’t God’s voice sound normal?
“Brent, can you hear me?” the voice called again.
“Yes, I can hear you. Is that you? Is that you, God?”
After a momentary pause, I heard laughter. The light seemed to be moving farther away, and I started to panic. “God, is that you?” There was more laughter, and for the first time it hit me. Maybe I wasn’t in Heaven; maybe I was in Hell. Maybe that voice wasn’t God’s, but the voice of the devil. I closed my eyes in fear and called out for God one last time. “God, is that you?”
I finally got a reply.
“No, Brent, I’m not God.” When I opened my eyes, the light had been removed, and leaning over me, although my vision was still blurred, I saw a bearded white man. “I’m your doctor. My name is Dr. Rosenthal, and you’re in Long Island Jewish Hospital.”
A voice came from behind him. “Do you remember what happened?” The figure came closer, and as he came into focus, I realized he was a black man in a police uniform.
“All I remember is getting out of my car and some guy attacking me with a baseball bat,” I said in a voice that was still weak.
“Did you get a good look at his face?”
“He was wearing a mask.”
“Did he say anything before he hit you? Was there anything familiar about the person?”
“Hey, leave him alone. He just woke up. You can ask him all the questions you want once he gets himself together.” There was no mistaking Sonny’s distinguishable voice as he approached. “You okay, buddy? You don’t have to answer this guy’s questions right now.”
“Where’s James?” I asked groggily.
“I’m right here, Brent. We’re all here.” James came up on the right side of the bed, across from Sonny. “Alison’s here, too. So are Cathy and the kids. They’re outside in the waiting room.”
As my memory came into focus, I recalled the most recent events in my life. I remembered the conversation with Jessica in San Francisco. I had called Sonny from the plane to ask him about it, and not long after, I was waking up in a hospital bed. Now I had some serious suspicions about my attack and the possibility that the two incidents were related.
“Sonny, where’s Tiffany?” I asked.
“She’s…with the kids at the house.”
“Tell her I wanna see her. It’s important.”
“Sure, Brent. I’ll tell her…but I can’t promise you anything. Tiffany hates hospitals.”
I tried to turn my body to Sonny to get a good read on his body language, but for some reason, I couldn’t move. I tried to sit up, but my limbs wouldn’t react to my commands. Panic overtook me. “Oh, Lord, I can’t move. I can’t move!”
The doctor pushed Sonny out of the way. I think he rested a hand on my shoulder, but I couldn’t feel a thing. “Calm down, Brent. During your altercation, your back was broken, and you have some severe spinal injuries.”
“Oh, Lord! How bad is it?” Again I tried to get up. “Will somebody tell me something?” I screamed.
The next voice I heard was Alison’s. She’d taken James’s place and was holding onto the bed railing. “Brent, honey. You’re going to be all right, baby. I’m going to take you home and take care of you, and we’re going to raise our baby together just like we planned.”
“What are you talking about? You know what I had planned.” I was about to out myself right then and there, but Alison stopped me.
“Brent, I think God has changed your plans. Baby, I don’t know how to tell you thi
s…. the doctors think you can regain the use of your upper body, but you’ll never walk again.”
“Nooo!” I screamed, closing my eyes. “No, this can’t be happening to me. Where’s Jackie?” I continued to try to move something, any part of me, but the only things that were mobile were my head and my neck. I glared at Alison. “Where’s Jackie? Did you tell Jackie?”
“You mean the organist dude from your church?” James chimed in. “He came by earlier. Dude was crying too. Said he couldn’t take seeing you this way, that it was a sign from God, and that he knew what he had to do. He was going home with his wife and kids to pray.”
“Amen to that,” Alison hollered.
I closed my eyes again and wondered if death would have been preferable to this.
44
James
I knocked on the front door and got no answer, so I made my way around to the back door, peeking in the sliding glass door. Why the hell I was snooping around Sonny’s house was beyond me. Believe me, if Brent hadn’t been in the hospital and hadn’t insisted I do this, I’d be sitting up with Cathy, happy that we were finally putting the pieces of our lives back together. I hated the idea that she had me sleeping in the basement, but our complete reconciliation was not going to happen overnight, and I was just happy to be sleeping in my own house again, with all three of my boys under one roof.
I went to the side of the house, and before I used the key that Sonny had given me when he first moved in, I pulled out my cell phone and called Long Island Jewish Hospital.
“Can I have room 653, Brent Williams’s room, please?”
“Please hold.”
The phone rang twice before Brent picked it up. “Hello.”