Double Dead

by Gary Hardwick

  “I'm gonna have a fucking heart attack,” said Jesse out loud.

  He almost cheered when he saw Sula walking out with Ramona at her side. They got to the car, and he got out and rushed Ramona inside.

  “You okay?” he asked. “I saw you in there and--”

  “I'm okay,” said Ramona without emotion. “Let's get out of here.” Ramona got inside the car's backseat. “You're welcome,” said Jesse sarcastically. Sula started the car, then waited. To Jesse, she said, “You're lucky. Old Bob just got back from a vacation tonight, and he's in a nasty mood.”

  “Then he doesn't know who we are,” said Jesse.

  “Didn't have a clue,” said Sula. “But neither do I.”

  “Can we get the fuck out of here, please?” asked Ramona curtly.

  “Sure,” said Sula. “God, I'm gonna be late.” She drove toward the street; then to Jesse she said, “How much money you got?”

  “I don't know.” He reached for the money Dick Steals had given him. He'd never bothered to count it. Sula grabbed the money.

  “That's enough,” she said. “You don't know what I had to

  promise Bob back there, but you just paid for it.” She looked at the money. “A lot less than I usually get, but it'll have to do.” Sula drove away from the border onto Jefferson Avenue and into Detroit.

  

  Sula pulled into the little motel on Eight Mile. She got out of the car and headed for the business office. “Be right back,” she said. She looked at her watch. “Oh, I am so damned late!”

  Jesse and Ramona sat in silence. They were each full of hamburgers from Rally's. Sula had stopped on the way to the east side.

  Jesse could feel Ramona boring a hole in the back of his head. He heard her take a deep breath. He thought that she would speak, but she didn't.

  Ramona was a proud woman, Jesse thought. Too proud to admit that she'd screwed up tonight. He wondered if she would have stopped to save him. He supposed that she had to. She needed him as much as he needed her.

  Sula came back with a room key on a cheap plastic key chain. “Here you go, kids,” she said. “Enjoy.”

  The two got out of the car. Jesse pulled the duffel bag from the car's floor. He could use a shower and a change of clothes, he thought.

  “Thanks,” said Jesse as he shook Sula's hand. “I can never repay you.”

  “I'll remember that if I ever need something,” said the stripper.

  “Thanks for everything.” Ramona extended her hand.

  Sula leaned in to Ramona, grabbed her hand, and whispered something to her. Then she walked back to the car and drove away.

  “What did she say to you?” asked Jesse.

  “Nothing,” said Ramona.

  C-3 was a nice little room, clean and comfortable. The bed

  looked great, but Jesse knew he'd never be in it. Even if Ramona would let him, he'd never get any rest with her body so close.

  Jesse closed the door and turned on the TV. He dropped the bag and sat on the little sofa against the wall. His body eased at the softness of the old sofa.

  “Thank you,” said Ramona.

  Jesse was surprised. He caught her eye and said, “No problem. I wasn't about to leave you there.”

  “Thanks for taking that knife for me too,” said Ramona. “I'm used to taking care of myself, you know.”

  “I understand,” he said. “It was my pleasure to get stabbed for you.”

  “You know, your rap is gettin' better all the time.” She smiled, and Jesse smiled back. “I'm gonna take a shower and wash these clothes. They should be dry by tomorrow.”

  Ramona went into the bathroom, and soon Jesse heard the shower running. He turned up the TV and searched for reports about them, but there were none.

  Then he heard a strange sound from the bathroom. He went to the door and he heard it again. Ramona was moaning softly. The hot shower must have felt good after so long, he reasoned. He heard her sigh. He thought of her inside the shower, naked and wet.

  Jesse moved away from the door. He could no longer deny that he was taken with her. She was everything that men wanted. She was beautiful, sexy, and she had a vulnerability that lived just underneath her womanliness. He wanted her, and given her recent gratitude for saving her life, he thought he had a chance. And then he thought about Connie, his promise to her and the faith she'd shown in him. Life was a bitch, he thought.

  The shower stopped, and he heard Ramona get out. She came out of the bathroom in a towel. He saw clearly the outline of her breasts. Her long legs made the towel seem very short.

  “It's all yours,” Ramona said.

  Jesse went in the bathroom quickly, not wanting to look at her or think about the suggestive words she'd just said. He took a hot shower, and it did feel good. He finished up and dried off.

  Jesse stopped to check himself out in the mirror. The white bandage on his wound stood out against his dark skin. Not bad, he thought. He had a pretty good-looking face; his chest was broad with just enough hair on it. He was muscular from his workout regime, and although he didn't like to brag, he was sufficiently endowed.

  Maybe Ramona was attracted to him too, he thought. Maybe she was out there, listening to the door as he had. You could never tell with women. He pulled a pair of shorts from the duffel bag. He put them on, then put on a pair of pants.

  Jesse walked into the room shirtless, hoping that Ramona was still up. She was perched on the edge of the bed watching TV. The white towel was pulled up to the top of her thighs, and she struggled to keep it down.

  “You can have the bed,” Jesse said.

  “Hey, listen to this on the news.” Ramona turned up the volume.

  “... that was Police Inspector James Cole. And so there are still no

  arrests in the violent incident at Trapper's Alley in Greektown that left one man dead,” said the reporter. “Police say their suspects, three young women, are not talking, and it appeared to be a confrontation between young black men and women....”

  “LoLo and Cane,” said Ramona.

  “Yeah,” said Jesse. “But what good does it do us?”

  “If she was hurt,” said Ramona, “she might be back at that safe house we went to the other day. Remember, she goes there when she's hurt. She's got a man there.”

  “Right,” said Jesse, brightening at this prospect. “That's our first stop tomorrow. Let's go to sleep and get an early start. Fewer cops out then.”

  “Okay.” Ramona got up from the bed. “I have to wash my clothes in the bathtub.”

  She went back into the bathroom. Jesse sat back on the little sofa. Not much of a bed, but it beat sleeping in a car or on the street.

  “You know, I bet we'll be laughing about this when it's all over,” Ramona called from the bathroom.

  “Assuming we're not in jail,” said Jesse.

  “You're so down about everything,” said Ramona. “We'll get that black case, then we get my tape, and we'll both be free.”

  Jesse didn't respond but listened to her scrub her clothes in the bathtub. The tape. He had forgotten all about it. He got up and went to the door.

  “Ramona-I lied about the tape,” he said.

  She stopped scrubbing. She rose from her crouch and walked to him, her hands covered with wet soap.

  “Lied?” she said. “What? You didn't find it?”

  Jesse regretted telling her, but now it was too late. “No, I did find the tape,” he said. “But I lost it. The killers must have taken it when I was knocked out. And anyway, it didn't prove anything. Someone cut it off before the killers got him.”

  “And when were you going to tell me?” asked Ramona, her voice rising. “After I helped you and they took me back to jail? You sorry ass bastard!” She was right in his face.

  “Look,” said Jesse, trying to diffuse her anger. “I've been thinking about this a lot. The black case is the key here. All of this has happened because of what's inside it. I'm sure that once we get it, it will exonerate
you too.”

  “You mean, you don't even know what's in it?” she yelled.

  “No,” Jesse confessed. “But whatever it is, it was worth killing the mayor for. Listen, if I had told you I didn't have the tape, would you have still come with me?”

  “That's not the point,” Ramona said. “How could you lie to me about something like that? I thought we...” She trailed off in her anger. “You men, all you do is hurt people. All my life, whenever I trust one of you, you treat me like shit.”

  “Just listen to me for a second, will you?” said Jesse.

  “I'm just another ghetto bitch to you,” she said. “Something to be used to get what you want. Then you go back to your little world of rich people, niggas with suits, and your white woman who thinks she's black. Well, you know what? Fuck you, Jesse. Tomorrow I'm outta here.” She went back into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  “Ramona, I won't let them put you in jail, I swear!” he said. “I-- I was wrong for lying to you, but I know I can help you.”

  “Go to hell!”

  Jesse turned away feeling miserable. After the fight with her mother, and hearing her bare her soul about her dead sister, he could see that he'd betrayed Ramona in the worst way. Jesse was now her mother, her father, and every other person who'd let her down.

  He sat on the sofa for ten minutes, listening to her scrub her clothes and curse. Then it grew quiet. At length the bathroom door opened.

  Jesse looked up and saw her standing by the door. He stood up and moved toward her. Her eyes were red, and her face was sad, like a child. She walked over to him and took off the towel, revealing her naked body to him.

  Her wet hair hung over her shoulders and dripped water on her breasts, which stood up, full and perfect. Her flat stomach flowed into her narrow waist. The curve of her hips was slight, moving into her long legs.

  Jesse was overcome. She was even more beautiful than he'd imagined. Even the motel's cheap soap was perfume on her. He felt an erection build, and he was powerless to stop it. Ramona came closer to him. She stopped just in front of him, her hard nipples brushing his bare chest.

  “Don't touch me,” she said. She stared up at him with her teary, hurt eyes. “You see,” she said to him. “See what you did to me?”

  “I'm sorry,” Jesse managed to say. “I swear--”

  Ramona pushed him aside gently and walked to the bed. She got under the covers and rolled onto her side.

  Jesse realized that she had exposed herself to him to let him know that she had intended to make love to him. But not now. She was showing him what he would never have. He went to the bed and sat on it next to her.

  “I won't let anything happen to you,” he said. “I lied to you before I knew you....” He trailed off. He had to find some way to make her believe him, to see that he was not going to hurt her again. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly. “Please don't leave me,” he said.

  Ramona sat up sharply. The cover fell from her, exposing one of her breasts.

  “You don't care about me,” she said. “You just want your lucky-ass life back. “

  “How can you say that after--” Jesse didn't want to bring up taking the knife for her. “You know I do. Maybe not at first, but after being with you, I do.”

  He paused again. He sounded like a boy professing his love at recess. He had to make sense now or he would lose her. When he continued, though, his thoughts were still a jumble of emotions.

  “When you left me in Canada, all I could think about was if you were safe. Then when I saw you being held, I had to help you. If I didn't care--”

  “It was the case,” said Ramona. “You just need the case.”

  “No, no!” he said loudly. “I wanted to get you out of there.” He stopped, frustrated. Jesse slid off the bed and got onto his knees so he could look her directly in the face.

  “If I can't clear you, I'll help you get away,” he said. “I'll break the law again, but I won't let you go back to jail.” Then softly he added, “Even if I have to go in your place.”

  Ramona didn't respond for a long time. She just stared past him, thinking and looking at a wall. He sat next to her on his knees, his face a picture of his emotion and frustration.

  “You know, men say the nicest things when I'm naked,” she said finally.

  “A chance,” said Jesse, “that's all I'm asking. You don't have to be with me. Just let me prove I'm not out to get you.”

  The sadness and anger started to fade from her face. Ramona put her hand on his chest.

  “You want me, Jesse?”

  “You know I do.”

  “I mean, do you want me, the real me, just like I am?”

  Jesse hesitated. He was thinking about Connie.

  “It's just you and me in this room right now,” she said as if sensing his thoughts. She moved her hand to his cheek. “Just you and me.”

  Jesse felt his body ease. He was not thinking rationally, but right now nothing was rational. All he knew was that this woman was a part of him now, and he didn't want to lose her.

  “Yes, I want you.”

  “I never ask men that question until it's too late,” she said, “until I'm broken down and scraping my heart off a wall.” She smiled her crooked little smile. “You have a good heart, Jesse. That is the only thing in the whole world I'm sure of right now. And if I'm really in your heart, you'll never be able to betray me.”

  She took her hand from his face and pulled back the covers, revealing herself to him. “Come on,” she said. “I'm all ready for you now.”

  Jesse leaned over and kissed her. He struggled out of his clothes, careful not to rip off his bandage. He climbed into bed with her. They embraced and kissed for a while, feeling each other. He rolled on top of her, and she parted her legs. He settled between them, then slipped inside her. The warmth surrounded him and took his breath away.

  He savored the moment, their connection, then felt her moving under him. Jesse started his rhythm, catching up to hers. Ramona pulled him close to her, clutching him tightly, as if she would never release him.

  4

  All Hallow’s Eve

  The sun woke Jesse the next morning. He stirred, then grumbled when he realized that his night of rest and peace was over. He had to get back to the job of solving his problem.

  Ramona slept peacefully next to him. One long braid lay across her face, and she looked like innocence itself. Jesse slipped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. She moved, then hugged him softly.

  “Good morning,” she murmured. Jesse felt her hands move over his body. She kissed him, and he returned it. She rolled on top of him, and they made love again. When it was over, they lay next to each other, staring at the motel's old, cracked ceiling. Ramona hummed her tune.

  “Why do you hum like that, you know, after you have sex?”

  “Sex, music, they're the same,” she said. “So, when I feel like sex, I feel like music. You got a problem with that?”

  “What do you think?” said Jesse. Then he kissed her again. “I have a better question. Where in God's name did you get the condoms we used?”

  Ramona smiled a little. “Your friend Sula gave them to me last night. She pressed them in my hand and said, 'He's cute, give him one for me, eh?' “ Ramona imitated Sula's voice.

  “Women,” said Jesse, chuckling. “So damned sneaky.” He ran a finger down her hair as he grew serious. “I meant everything I said last night.”

  “I don't wanna talk about that anymore,” said Ramona. She adjusted her body and propped herself up on one elbow.

  “I'll have to tell Connie about us as soon as this is over.”

  Ramona didn't respond. She got up and went to the bathroom. She took her dry clothes from the shower rod and got in. Jesse joined her, and they showered together.

  After they got dressed, they peeked out into the motel's parking lot. Only two cars there. One was a new Toyota, and the other, a Chrysler, had a big red antitheft bar on the steering wheel.
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  “Damn,” said Jesse. “We can't get either one of those.”

  “We have to get moving,” said Ramona. “These little motels have early checkout times.” She pointed at a woman knocking on a door and going inside a room with a passkey.

  “We can't walk the street,” said Jesse. “Someone will notice us for sure.”

  “I say we get on the bus and chance it.”

  “Too dangerous,” said Jesse. “Let's stick to the neighborhoods. Once we get there, something will turn up.”

  “I know you don't wanna hear this,” said Ramona. “But I know some people that way.” She pointed south.

  “Me too. I used to live over there,” said Jesse. Painful remembrance settled in his face, then quickly faded. “Okay, let's check them out.”

  Jesse packed up their stuff in the green bag and left the room. They headed to Dequindre and went south. The day was beautiful. The sun was out, and it felt warmer than previous days. Ramona walked next to Jesse, holding his hand. He surged with energy. His passion for Ramona had lifted his spirits. He felt a little strange at his newfound emotion, but he did not betray his joy to her. He gripped her hand tightly and smiled at her.

  They walked for an hour, taking side streets and hiding to avoid the occasional police cruiser. Soon they had crossed Six Mile Road when Jesse stopped short at a corner.

  “What?” asked Ramona. “You tired?”

  “No,” he said. “I grew up not too far from here.”

  They looked around the area. It wasn't a pleasant sight. The neighborhood had definitely seen better days. The streets were in need of paving. Billboards touted the joys of malt liquor and cigarettes, overshadowing a small antidrug billboard. In the middle of the despair, bright, shining fast-food joints stood in bitter contrast with their surroundings.

  “You come a long way,” she said.

  “Not today I haven't,” he said woefully.