She eyed him like he was speaking French. “What?”
“Venus, I have to.”
“Claude, don’t tell me.”
“I just have to, Venus. I can’t go on like this.”
Her mouth hung open while she watched him walk away, get in his car and then pull off, driving slower than usual. She just stared out the door, leaning against the doorframe in her robe with her legs crossed at the ankles.
“Neither can I,” she said out loud.
The long line of visitors stretched around and around, wrapping its way from under the aluminum awning, which blocked out the morning sun all the way to the middle of the parking lot. The line moved slowly, full of people who looked fairly upbeat, some even full of anticipation, excited to see their dads, husbands, boyfriends, brothers, and sons. But Claude was not having anything but answers today.
He filled out his visitation paper, writing the inmate name Owen Chambers. The lady behind the bulletproof glass entered his name into the computer. Owen had not had any visitors that day so Claude was allowed to proceed. He passed through the security detectors and took the filled-to-capacity county bus up the long hill to visit the maximum-security inmates on the north side of the prison.
After about ten minutes of sitting in a sterile room upon a dingy bench, they called Claude’s visitation number.
He was instructed to sit at window eighty-three. He took his seat on the low, cold metal stool and waited. He noticed the many faces of the inmates wearing their prison blues. All of the inmates with visitors around him had arrived. Yet the seat on the other side of the thick glass was empty. Then, he heard the sound of rattling chains approaching as a guard escorted a prisoner to the opposite seat. He looked up and their eyes met. It was Owen, Fatima’s murderer.
Even though Owen’s ankles were chained, his hands were free and he had the nerve to carry a big black bible in his right hand. He even had a gray plastic rosary around his neck. His neck was small, he was small, and he looked old. He took a seat.
Owen reached for the receiver as the guard walked away. Claude stared at him, just examining his face as if his eyes had the ability to snap pictures, or shoot bullets. He saw Owen’s lips move. Owen tipped his head toward the receiver. Claude picked it up, grabbing the base with all of his might.
Owen spoke first. “Don’t tell me.”
The exact same, weak ass voice from the cell phone message, Claude thought. “You got it, it’s me.”
“It’s about time.”
Claude shook his head in disgust. “You are one punk ass muthafucka, dude. You are really one poor excuse for a man.”
Owen shook his head as if in agreement. “That’s your opinion.”
Claude was choking the phone with his tight fist. “You should be dead.”
“I will be, soon enough,” Owen said as if dying was routine.
“Yes, but to die while incarcerated ain’t shit compared to what you did.”
“Don’t forget, Claude. I’m insane, you know.”
“That you are, or just one slick, tired ass nigga. Which one?”
Owen was smug. “You came here to make yourself feel better, I see. Get it out.”
Claude leaned back, as far away from the glass as he could get. “You don’t even have the decency to tell me you’re sorry.”
“For killing my woman? Why would I owe you an apology for that?”
Claude’s eyes narrowed. “You killed the love of my life.”
“Oh, spare me. I couldn’t get her to marry me. But why didn’t you, bro?”
Claude spoke with a deeper voice. “That’s none of your damn business. And I’m not your bro.”
“I’ll tell you why. It’s because you were too busy doing your thing. She used to tell me how busy you were.”
“You know what? I heard your tired ass message that the police took into evidence. That’s some fucked up shit to threaten a woman like that.”
Owen smirked. “I don’t think they needed your tape, considering I was sitting in a car outside of where she was shot with a bullet in my chest. I confessed.”
“You couldn’t even kill your damn self right. Next time aim for your big ass head.”
“Believe me, if I could, I would.”
Claude sneered as he spoke. “I hope the rest of your life is a living hell, because mine sure is.”
Owen sounded like a prophet pimp. “Heaven on earth, or hell on earth, it’s our choice.”
“This was not my choice.”
“You asked God to be here in this life. He gave you life and all that goes along with it”
Claude leaned closer. “I didn’t asked God for shit.”
“Oh, certainly you did, that’s why you’re here.”
“Oh, so now you’re the mystic spiritualist, huh?” He sat up straight as a board. “Why is it that every man in jail suddenly finds God?” Claude asked, looking around and behind himself. “Where is he?”
“He’s in my life, that’s all I can say.”
Claude looked at Owen’s hands, examined each grubby finger. His unkempt pinky fingers had extra long nails, and dirt had collected underneath. He looked at his tired, tiny, beady eyes, with his cloudy, gray eyeballs. His Afro was a mess, in need of a serious haircut, with gray at his temples and sideburns. His aging skin was medium brown and he was unshaven. He had bad, yellow teeth and chapped lips.
“I don’t know what the hell she saw in you,” Claude said with malice.
“What she saw you can’t see right now, brother. But I’ll show you if you’d like.” Owen grabbed his crotch with a naughty stare.
“No, keep that Vienna sausage tucked away for your new woman on the cell block. I’m sure you’re used to bustin’ asses with it by now.”
Owen acted like that was a compliment. “That I am.”
“I just want you to know one thing.”
“What’s that, chief?” Owen replied as if it was all a joke.
Claude clenched his jaw. “You are one sad excuse for a man who is in need of every word that Bible has to offer you. You had no respect for my relationship with Fatima Clark and you took her life because you couldn’t control her. I despise you for that. My son despises you for that. And her family despises you for that.”
Owen almost grinned. “Speak for yourself. I know for a fact that Cameron does not despise me.”
Claude raised his voice. “Don’t you dare speak his name. You don’t even know that young man.”
“Oh, but I do. I met him a few times but around him she always referred to me as Bobby Cujo, her old friend. And ask Venus about how well I knew him. You did end up marrying her, I understand.”
“News travels fast behind bars, huh?”
“Shit, you’re a prominent figure. You’re a hot ass boy, right. News around here doesn’t travel as fast as you, putting a ring on her finger when Fatima was still warm in the ground. I guess that makes you a fine one to judge. Is pussy that hard to come by nowadays?”
Claude slammed the phone down, without replacing it on the hook. Visitors nearby gave him their full attention. He sprang to his feet and started to reach for the receiver again, but instead spoke by mouthing the words, “Fuck you.”
“Anytime,” Owen mouthed back, laughing while he pushed the buzzer for the guard, hanging up the phone.
Claude watched as Owen was escorted away, looking back, taking choppy steps with a haunting smirk. Claude’s legs and heart gave way to his pain as he sat back down and cried.
Claude’s voice was shaking as he phoned his wife from the car. “Venus, I’m on my way home. We need to talk.” Claude disconnected the phone without even hearing her reply. He raced down the freeway and off at the Howard Hughes Parkway exit. He pulled into the driveway and entered the front door two seconds later. He sat on the leather recliner in the den and called out for Venus.
Venus ran downstairs, rushing up to her husband as if he were in trouble. “What’s the matter, Claude?”
“Is Cameron h
ome?”
“No, he’s at his grandparents’ house. They came to pick him up.”
“Sit down,” he instructed her like she was a child. She did just that. “Bobby Cujo? What the hell do you know?”
She cursed under her breath. “Bobby who?” You could hear a pin drop.
He studied her, knowing she was playing dumb. “Venus, I want to know now.”
She felt her stomach contract. “Claude, calm down. Your mom is down the hall.”
He spoke louder and more defiant. “You start talking. Now!”
Venus looked uneasy, eyeing the floor. She crossed and uncrossed her legs as if she was trying to get comfortable with herself and her words. She raised her gaze and went for it.
“Claude, Owen is Cameron’s father.”
He snapped his fingers loudly. “I fucking knew it. Dammit, Venus. And you knew all this time and didn’t tell me?”
“Fatima made me swear that I wouldn’t.”
Claude struggled to put two and two together. “She knew him that damn long?”
“Yes.”
“So when she told me Cameron’s father abused her and that she didn’t know where he was, that was a lie.”
Venus tried to explain. “He abused her back then and swore he would stop. And he did. After that, the two of them just always managed to keep in touch. They had some sort of chemical bond or something. She just couldn’t seem to really get him out of her life. And at times, it was like she really didn’t want to. Maybe because he was Cameron’s father.”
“Oh please, it’s not like he ever got to know this fool. I still can’t believe that she brought him around Cam without telling that boy he was his own father. Cameron’s been thinking his dad is out there lost in the wilderness. She could have at least told him who he was instead of bringing him around and calling him fucking Bobby Cujo. I won’t even ask why that name was her choice other than the fact that Owen is a damn dog himself. How confusing for Cameron.”
“Cameron was so little, I’m sure he doesn’t even remember meeting Owen. Anyway, Claude, those were not my personal decisions. These were choices that Fatima made. She knew that Owen wouldn’t be the best father to Cameron. And she knew that eventually, she had to get away. But she never did.”
“Fourteen years of never did. And now you have the nerve to wake up every day in the very house that Cameron wakes up in, knowing his own father shot and killed his mother. How do you live with that?”
Venus looked empty. “I ask myself that very question every day.”
“At least you have some conscience,” he snarled.
“Claude, I don’t think Cameron needs to know now.”
“No, the time to tell him was years ago. It would kill him now. That boy has a crazy-looking, grown half brother and a new sister he’ll never know. It was hard enough with him just dealing with the two of us marrying each other. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“So did I. Claude, we both wanted what Fatima wanted. She asked me to look after the two of you if anything ever happened to her and I agreed.”
“Oh, so you married me on a promise? Like some sort of agreement?” he asked.
“Something like that. But Claude, I really fell in love with you after Fatima died. It seems we had so much in common, so many similar memories and we each knew her so well. It just felt comfortable to grieve with you. But on a daily basis, I wonder about myself. What kind of woman falls in love with her best friend’s man? That’s a hell of a secret to keep.”
“You’ve been keeping a lot of secrets lately, huh, Venus?”
“Yes I have.”
“So now what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Venus, all of this allegiance to Fatima is tearing our lives apart. She’s just as powerful in death as she was in life.”
“I agree. But my concern now is about us. Can you love me the way I need to be loved after all that’s happened?”
“I don’t know?
She looked stunned. “You don’t know?”
“You know what I do know? I know that I need to be alone.”
“So do I,” Venus said, standing up to walk out. She thought for a minute and then just decided to put it out there again. “Claude, Fatima fooled around on you. I didn’t. One day you’ll stop being so angry with everyone around you, and try to figure out why you’ve never been angry at her.”
Claude was silent. He squinted as he looked at his wife. “Did Fatima love Owen? Was she only with me for my money?”
Venus paused before she replied, “Those are two questions I’ll never be able to answer. I surely don’t need your money. You know, one day, you’re going to have to be okay with perhaps not having the answers to those questions about her. One day, you’re going to have to let her go so that you can tend to your marriage, Claude. But let me ask you a question now. Are you still in love with a dead woman?”
“Are you?”
Venus gave him a piercing look of distain. His expression mirrored hers. She exited the den and slammed the double doors together behind her.
Cameron arrived back home late. Venus greeted him at the door while Claude stayed in the den where he slept all night. Venus lay in bed alone, unable to doze off. She felt sick, she felt depressed, and she felt to blame. Tears were swimming in her eyes until the moment she finally shut her heavy lids, frowning as she slept.
Later that evening, Torino was winding down the last hour at the club. He stood back for a minute, watching the partygoers shake their butts off, meeting and greeting and engaging. From the corner of his eyes, he could see a woman coming toward him, walking at a fast pace. It was Colette.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
She sounded excited. “I need to talk to you.”
“Don’t make me call Bo to escort you out. Who let you in, anyway?”
“Torino, why are you so angry with me? I just don’t get it. I’m carrying your baby.” Colette touched her own stomach.
“I’m not gonna get into that.” Torino talked into his two-way. “Bo, please come here now.”
“I want us to talk. This pregnancy happened for a reason. It’s a sign that we need to be together.” She began to reach for his arm.
Torino moved away. “It’s a sign that you’re a ho’. Now get out of my face.”
“Mr. Wilson, are you okay?” Bo asked, standing behind Colette.
“How did she get in?”
“Sir, we have a new girl at the door. Colette paid the girl just as I turned my back to resolve another matter.”
Colette interrupted. “Torino, I am not leaving until you talk to me.”
“Oh, you think so?”
“Are you seeing Sequoia?” Colette asked.
“Bo, will you see Miss Berry out of here, please?”
“Yes, sir,” Bo replied, extending his hand toward the door.
“You’re really going to kick me out of here? I’ve been here by your side for all of your events for the past two years.”
“Not anymore.”
“You’d kick your own baby’s mom out?”
“I’m kicking Kyle’s baby’s mom out.”
“Torino you know for a fact that there were times that we didn’t use a condom. I’m way too far along for it to be anyone’s but yours.”
Torino turned his back. “Bo, don’t let this happen again.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, after placing his hand on Colette’s elbow. She walked toward the door, looking back the entire time.
“Faggot,” she yelled with vengeance in her voice.
Torino simply spoke into his two-way again. “Let’s meet in the kitchen to count the drawers. Out.”
Chapter 14
Venus pulled up in her Montero and parked in the driveway. She called Cameron from her cell to come out and help her remove the bags from the back of her SUV.
“How many bags are there?” he asked as if she could do it herself.
She insisted and raised her voice. “
Cam, come out now. I need your help.”
He hung up and ran outside thirty seconds later looking half dressed and undone. “All right. Here I am.”
“Here, I’ll take a few and you can take the rest.” He peeked inside of a bag from Robinson’s May. “What did you buy? Anything for me?”
“Not this time, Cam. Just something for your grandma.”
He pulled a box from the bag. “She needs this pillow?”
“Yes, if you must know. It helps her to secure the back of her neck. She’s been having aches in her neck and back lately.”
“You sure spend a lot of money,” he commented.
Venus threw her head back as if he had the nerve. “Excuse me?”
“You just buy things almost every day,” he commented, taking two bags under his right arm and three into his left hand as he led the way.
“Oh, like groceries so you can eat and clothes to put on our back and shoes for our feet, stuff like that?”
“Yes, and things for Grandma. I’m just saying you must like shopping.”
She looked displeased. “Cam, I can think of a lot of other things I’d rather do. Oooh.” Venus suddenly gasped and dropped a small bag.
Cameron immediately turned back toward her. “What’s wrong?”
“Uumh,” she said, grabbing the side of her stomach.
“What’s happening? Are you all right?” Cameron put the bags down and reached around her back with one arm.
Venus fell to one knee while Cameron leaned down on the concrete walkway with her.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Cameron, I think I’m just hungry. I think I need to eat. I’m just feeling a little dizzy.”
“Are you sure that’s it?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I think I have a cramp from… Ooh,” she said, panting loudly.
“Let me get you into the house.”
Cameron grabbed her under the elbows and helped her stand. She took a few steps, almost reaching the front door when she stopped and said, “Oh my God.”
Venus looked down and saw dark red blood running down from the inside of her legs to her feet. Her black sandals were soaked.
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