If it Aint One Thing it's Another

by Sharron Doyle

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Lydia put Janelle to sleep and laid her down in the spare bedroom. Kalif tied her hands back up again and ordered her to sit on the living room couch. He sat across from her at the dining room table and began to roll a blunt with the bag of dust he had left. Lydia asked him again what he planned on doing. ”Kill your man,” Kalif said flatly. ”Then I’m going home to watch a movie. Now don’t ask me no more questions.” Lydia wondered if there was any way that she could somehow notify the police, Ladelle or Janine.

  ”I’m having some discomfort sitting like this with my hands behind my back. It’s putting too much pressure on the baby. Can you please untie me? I’m not gonna try anything. I swear,” Lydia said. Kalif looked at her and thought about it. He put down his blunt and ordered her over to him. She did as she was told. He untied her hands and went back to rolling his blunt.

  ”Where’s the bathroom?” Kalif asked.

  ”Down the hall on your left,” Lydia replied, pointing in the direction of the bathroom. Kalif picked up his blunt and walked to the bathroom, and Lydia rushed to the phone and dialed 9-1-1.

  Hello, 9-1-1, what is your emergency?

  ”A man is holding me hostage at 2991 Eighth Avenue—hurry,” she whispered into the phone.

  I’m sorry, ma’am, please speak up. What is your emergency? the operator asked again, already putting a trace on the call.

  ”2991 Eighth Avenue—14C,” Lydia quickly said and hung up the phone before sitting back down on the couch.

  Kalif flushed the toilet in the bathroom. He came back into the living room and looked at Lydia through dust-filled eyes. She did-n’t look right to him. He asked her to stand up and turn around. Then he told her to sit back down before going to the kitchen and getting a beer out of the refrigerator. He came back and sat down at the table again, eyeing Lydia carefully and suspiciously. He was about to have another trip.

  Kalif looked at Lydia and wondered what was wrong with her head. Her hair was styled in a French twist, with Shirley Temple curls around the back and front. Kalif tilted his head and looked at her stomach now. What the fuck is going on? he thought. Why is her stomach so fucken big? Oh, God! Her hands look like claws! Kalif thought about Freddie Krueger and decided to tie that ass up again. It was the only way he could be safe; she wasn’t going to cut him up with those claws.

  Kalif grabbed the pantyhose from off the floor, and this time he tied Lydia’s hands over her stomach where he could see them. He backed away from her and rubbed his eyes, still wondering what was wrong with her head. Then he studied her face and wondered, Damn! Is she cock-eyed? Why she keep lookin’ at me? Kalif decided that he would have to fix that. He went back into the bedroom and took the pillowcase off of a pillow. He returned to the living room and put it over Lydia’s head. She began to cry, and she pleaded with him to not hurt her or the baby.

  Kalif mistook her crying for laughter and after a few moments, he was convinced that she was indeed laughing. Enough was enough. He went to the bedroom once again, and he took a pair of socks out of the dresser drawer. He came back into the living room and snatched the pillowcase off Lydia’s head. He shoved the socks in her mouth and put the pillowcase back on her.

  Officers from the 32nd precinct had been dispatched to Lydia’s apartment. The operator reported her call as suspicious because she had hung up before identifying herself. But it was still being treated as an emergency and not a prank.

  The police arrived at Lydia’s building and rang her buzzer three times. Kalif sat there looking at the house phone like he had never seen one before. Lydia knew, of course, that someone was ringing to gain access to her apartment and the phone wasn’t ringing. Thank God, she thought. She tried to talk, hoping that Kalif would take the sock out of her mouth.

  He walked over to the couch and snatched the pillowcase off her head. Lydia looked up at him with tears in her eyes. Kalif couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Her eyes were leaking. ”Yo, what are you?! Why your eyes leakin’?! Turn them off!!” Kalif was yelling like a madman. Lydia continued to cry. She had tried to be brave, but it wasn’t easy with this lunatic screaming at her. Kalif yelled again for her to turn off her eyes. Lydia was now totally convinced that he was insane.

  Kalif took the sock out of her mouth and threw it on the floor. He marched away from her like she was his arch enemy, and the look on his face was one of sheer horror. There was snot coming out of her nose now, and her eyes were red from crying.

  ”Aaaaaahh!! What the fuck are you?!” Kalif screamed when he saw the snot dripping down her chin, and he accused her of having worms. Lydia had no idea what he was going to do next. His back was up against the wall now, and if it wasn’t for the sheetrock, he probably would have gone through it.

  Lydia made an attempt to get up off the couch, thinking she might be able to talk to him in a way he’d understand. Kalif pulled out his burner and said, ”Back up, alien! I seen your last movie; I know how you disguise yourself. B-a-a-a-ck up!” he screamed. Lydia sat back down, wondering where the hell the police were. Kalif started asking her a bunch of weird questions like, ”How long you been on this planet?” and ”How did you get here?” There was no reply. ”Answer me, you freakazoid!” he shrieked.

  Lydia burst into tears, which only made matters worse. She didn’t know what to say to Kalif. All she could think about was that she was going to die at his hands and never get the opportunity to give birth.

  Kalif now stood with his back and the bottom of his right elevated foot against the living room wall. His burner rested on his knee, and it looked like he was posing for a picture as he kept his eyes on Lydia. As far as he was concerned, something might jump out of her stomach and onto his face. He wasn’t as stupid as she might think. He had seen Aliens—part one and two.... She has the nerve to look scared—ha! The nerve of her, he thought. Of all the chicks to take hostage, he had to pick an alien. The dust really had him zoning.

  The doorbell rang, and Kalif jumped up off the wall and stood erect. He put his index finger to his mouth, signaling for Lydia to be quiet. He thought more aliens were coming, and he tiptoed toward the door.

  ”Police! Anybody in there?!” the officers yelled from the hallway. Lydia wanted to scream out, but the only thing stopping her was knowing she might be putting Janelle, who was still asleep in the spare bedroom located way in the back, in harm’s way.

  The officers called out again. ”Police, open the door!” Kalif froze like an icicle.

  ”Help, he’s got a gun!” Lydia yelled, not knowing where she got the courage to do so.

  Kalif walked over to her and smacked her off the sofa. She hit the floor hard. He put the burner to her head and looked at the door. ”I’ll kill this bitch right now! Get the fuck out of here! I’m not playing!” he screamed.

  ”Please, he’s got a gun to my head! Oh, God, please, do what he says or he’ll kill me and my baby!” Lydia cried out. The officers at the door immediately called for assistance. They had a hostage situation going on and they didn’t want to be responsible if anything went wrong.

  When the Chief of Police arrived, he instructed his officers to evacuate the fourteenth floor and the two floors above and below it. He called the precinct to get the phone number in the apartment so contact could be made. Meanwhile, Eighth Avenue was swarming with emergency response vehicles, the Hostage Rescue Team and the SWAT team.

  The senior negotiator was able to make contact with Kalif. He asked him what his demands were. Kalif didn’t have any demands. He told him he wanted Ladelle dead. The negotiator had no idea what Kalif was talking about. Before he could ask any more questions, Kalif said, ”I’ll let you speak to the alien, but not now.” He hung up and fixed a blank stare on Lydia.

  The negotiator became a little confused when Kalif referred to Lydia as an alien. He knew Kalif didn’t know what he was doing and this wouldn’t likely end with anyone being hurt, which was always the best case scenario. He had handled a number of hostage takings
in his career, and all of them ended with the hostages being released unharmed. He didn’t have any background information on Kalif, but after talking to him briefly over the phone he wondered if he had a mental history. He was more than qualified to handle this, but it would help if he had something to go on.

  The negotiator called Kalif back and requested to speak with Lydia. He had to make sure she was alive before taking things any further. Kalif untied her hands and gave her the phone.

  ”Are you okay?” the negotiator asked Lydia.

  ”Yes, I’m just scared,” she replied with Kalif sitting across from her, watching her like she was a thief.

  ”Is he alone?”

  ”Yes.”

  Before Lydia could say anything else, Kalif snatched the phone out of her hand. He put the receiver to his mouth and said, ”If you’d like to make a call, please hang up and try your call again.” He slammed the phone down and lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke in Lydia’s face.

  ”What do you plan on doing now?” she asked Kalif.

  ”You’ll know when I do it—now be quiet.”

  Lydia was trapped in her own apartment with a nigga who didn’t care about dying. She did the only thing she could do. She prayed.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Venus had already left for work by the time BJ woke up. She left him a plate of French toast in the microwave. He was a little leery about being in the house alone with the dogs; Bullet and Diamond kept following him around like he was going to steal something.

  BJ sat on the sofa and reached for the remote control when he heard his cell phone ringing in the bedroom. He hopped to the room and looked at the caller ID. It was Annette. He wanted to speak to her to tell her to stop calling him. He hit the yes button on the phone. ”Why haven’t you called me?” Annette said before he could say hello.

  ”I thought I told you when I was in the hospital not to call me anymore. I told you I don’t want to be bothered,” he said thinking about how much he hated the sound of her voice now.

  ”Oh, you back at that bitch’s house and now you don’t want to be bothered? How could you be there, after what she tried to do? She was gonna let them dogs kill you, or did you forget that quick?” BJ hung up on her. Two seconds later the phone rang again, and before he could cuss her out she said, ”I’m pregnant.” BJ froze. That was the last thing he wanted to hear from her. It had to be a setup.

  ”How I know you pregnant by me? Matter of fact, I don’t even want to hear that dumb shit, Annette. Just leave me the fuck alone, you heard?”

  ”Please, just come over so we can talk like mature adults,” Annette said. BJ agreed to see her, but he wanted to get it over with so he could be back home by the time Venus came in from work.

  When he got to Annette’s house, she was waiting for him in the bedroom—naked. ”Get dressed,” he told her, walking out of the bedroom.

  ”Why? You might get tempted to cheat on your old girlfriend again?” Annette said, following him down the hallway and rubbing her titties.

  ”Don’t flatter yourself. Get dressed or I’m out,” BJ said without turning to look at her.

  They were in the living room now, and Annette was wearing a thong and a pair of heels that didn’t look right to BJ. Nothing about her looked right to him anymore. She sat with her legs open on the armrest of the sofa, straddling it. BJ wasn’t impressed. Annette arched her back and leaned forward to kiss him, but he backed away and sat down in the corner love seat. She looked like a snake in heels to him.

  ”Listen, enough with all this bullshit. How do I know you’re pregnant by me? What, you think I’m gonna believe you just because you said so?” BJ said.

  Annette was shell shocked. She couldn’t believe her tactics weren’t working. ”You’re the only one I ever fucked without a condom,” she said trying to sound convincing.

  ”Yeah, right. Check this out: I was born at night—not last night, so tell that bullshit to a newborn,” BJ said getting up to leave. He told her he wanted no parts of her, and she began to flip out. This was truly a kick in the face. ”The only baby’s mother I’ll ever have is Venus, you heard?” BJ added. He grabbed his crutches and headed for the door.

  ”Fuck that!” Annette screamed, running out of the living room behind him. ”Who the fuck you think you talking to?”

  ”Get out my face, Nette,” BJ warned.

  ”Make me!” she screamed again, snatching his crutches from underneath his arms. BJ lost his balance and fell against the hallway wall. Annette was standing in his way now, blocking his path so he couldn’t leave.

  ”Get out the way. Why you acting like a little girl?” BJ said. ”You knew about wifey to begin with, and now you talking this pregnant shit. Get out my fucken way!” Annette pulled and grabbed at his clothes, still trying to prevent him from leaving. He shoved her aside and opened her door as she stood there crying.

  ”Get out!” Annette shouted, pushing him again. Instead of hitting her, BJ kept it moving. Annette ran outside after him and pushed him once again. He tripped and fell down the last few steps, landing on his back. He didn’t move. Annette, scared now, ran down the rest of the steps and kneeled over him, calling his name—nothing. She called it again...nothing. Annette panicked. She tried to get him up off the ground. His body was heavy in her arms. She felt his neck for a pulse, and it was then that she realized he was dead.

  Annette ran back up the steps and called 9-1-1. She lived in a private house, and she didn’t realize that her landlady, who lived on the first floor, was home and had heard everything. While Annette was waiting for the ambulance to come, so was she.

  When the police arrived, Annette told them that BJ had slipped on his crutches and fell. She said when she opened the door she saw him lying at the bottom of the steps. She was crying hysterically and they appeared to believe her story.

  The ambulance arrived and rushed BJ to the hospital. After being pronounced dead, his body was turned over to the coroner.

  BJ’s aunt called Venus at work and told her about his death. She told her the same thing the police had said: BJ slipped and fell after leaving Annette’s house. The first thing Venus wanted to know was who the hell was Annette, and what was he doing at her house. BJ’s aunt told Venus that the girl was taken into custody, but they hadn’t charged her with anything.

  Venus was a wreck. She couldn’t believe that BJ was dead. She wanted to talk to this Annette girl and find out what her relationship was to him. And she prayed that Annette wasn’t who she thought she was, even though her gut had already told her.

  Share was watching television in her hospital room when Venus called and told her what had happened to BJ. Share looked over at Will, unsure of how to tell him that his best friend was dead. If it ain’t one thing it’s another, she thought.

  ”Don’t play like that, ma,” Will said to her when she finally told him about BJ.

  ”I wish I was,” she said. Will got up and grabbed his coat, kissed her on the forehead and bounced. He had to get some air; the room had suddenly seemed to be closing in on him. He headed to Annette’s house with the quickness.

  When Will arrived at Annette’s house she was drinking, and the air smelled like she had just finished blowing trees. He asked her what happened.

  ”So it was an accident?” Will said after hearing her story. Annette nodded her head yes. ”But you did push him?” he added.

  ”Yeah, but I was only trying to get him to stay and listen to me,” she said trying to sound like the victim. She thought about how she had tried to run that pregnant shit on Will, too, once, but he did-n’t go for it.

  Will wasn’t feeling Annette at all. He already knew he was going right to the precinct to tell the cops what she had just said. Fuck that. You’re not gonna kill my peeps and get away with it, he thought.

  It seemed that everything was happening all at once: first, Share telling him that she was positive, and now his best friend was dead. Will had to be strong for Share, and for himself as well.<
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  The officers at the precinct were more than interested in what Will had to say. They already had their suspicions about Annette anyway, and now they were confirmed. Will gave a written statement of everything Annette had told him. The officers said they’d follow up with him on his account of what happened and pay Annette another visit.

  Will left the precinct and headed back to the hospital. His plate was full and he didn’t know how much more he could take.

  Will called Venus and let her know that he had spoken to Annette. He said she told him what really went down.

  ”So, that bitch killed him?” Venus said, on the verge of flipping out.

  ”Yeah, but she made it seem like it was an accident. She said BJ went to leave and she tried to stop him. He turned around like he was going to hit her and she pushed him away from her.”

  ”Yeah, right. That bitch pushed him because he probably told her he didn’t want to be bothered anymore. Where that bitch live at, Will?”

  ”Don’t worry about that. I already went to the precinct and talked to the police. I told them everything she said. They’re gonna get her. Just be easy,” Will said, hoping that would calm her down. It did. He told her the most important thing right now was making funeral arrangements for BJ—first things first.

  The officers returned to Annette’s house to question her, but she wasn’t home. Her landlady invited them inside the house, and they asked her if she had seen or heard anything that day.

  ”Well, I heard the boy tell her it was over between them. He said he didn’t want to be bothered, and she started screaming and hollering. The next thing I know, the door opened and the boy was telling her to get out of his face. Then I heard him fall,” she told them as she sat holding a handkerchief in her hand. A little dog lay at her feet. He looked as old as she did.

  ”After the fall, what did you hear?” one of the officers asked. He was wondering how good her memory was; she appeared to be more than credible.