A Past That Breathes

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A Past That Breathes Page 13

by Noel Obiora


  19

  War Chest

  Big remembered where he had met the woman who walked out of the courtroom behind Sister Ramatu and Jo after the motion hearing last Monday. He was walking down the stairs at Cool Jo’s Café, as he had done the night Kenneth and Amy were at the club. Making an entrance into the crowded bar section, deliberately slow, his gaze had turned toward where Kenneth sat that night with Amy, and he had stopped immediately. “Kenny said they went to school together. It must be her. She’s a lawyer, too,” Big thought. He abandoned his entrance and hurried back upstairs to his office.

  Jo insisted he must not confront Kenneth about it when Big called her after trying unsuccessfully to reach Kenneth. “Why the hell not? You telling me it’s okay for this mudderfucker to be sleeping with the enemy?”

  “Big, there ain’t no enemies here. She’s just doing her job, and Kenneth hasn’t been to court yet for Paul. Maybe he doesn’t know.”

  “You see, that right there is why you and him are just the same kinda suckers. He better not see that woman after he finds out or she’ll be the last woman he ever sees after this case.”

  Jo got angry. “What the hell are you gonna do, Big? We haven’t even paid him and you’re already threatening him?”

  Big was calm again. Paul was convinced that Kenneth was the lawyer for him, too, which was enough for Big.

  “I’mma pay him a visit tomorrow,” Big said.

  “Let me go and see him first, alone,” Jo said.

  “You can come, too, if you want. But we’re sorting this shit out quick and early. I’m not gonna let this woman mess with Kenny’s head on Paul’s case.”

  “You need to calm down. You don’t even know if this woman is the same woman.”

  “Jo, you ain’t seen women fuck with Kenny, when the fool’s talking about he’s in love. Ah, ah, not on this case.”

  Jo and Big were in Kenneth’s office the next morning. Kenneth heard Jo’s voice from the inner office and vaguely recalled his mother saying something about Jo coming to see him when he got to the office. Somehow he was pleased that she came. Then he heard Big’s voice as well and went into Nancy’s office to meet them.

  “Hey, Kenneth. I’m sorry to barge in on such short notice,” Jo said.

  “Oh please, you can barge in anytime,” Kenneth said. “Him, on the other hand, I am not so sure,” he added with a smile, pointing at Big. He opened the door to his office and ushered them in after hugging Jo.

  “You know you ain’t even kidding about that, nigger,” Big said as he walked toward Kenneth’s office.

  “John, you don’t call anyone by that expression in this office,” Nancy said.

  “Sorry ma’am,” Big said quickly, and hurried into Kenneth’s office. Kenneth closed the door behind Big, pausing briefly to exchange a pregnant look with his mother.

  Big did not wait for Kenneth to sit down. “The Mallam’s got the money to hire you.”

  “Big, stop!” Jo said, and sat down. Kenneth also sat down, his eyes on Big, who remained standing.

  “Kenneth, you can replace the public defender now that the motion is done, right?” Jo asked.

  “Yes, as soon as Paul signs the substitution of counsel papers, I’m his attorney. I was going to make time to see him today, but it doesn’t look like I can make it.”

  “Why not? I’ll drive your ass there myself.” Big had interjected himself just as Jo was about to speak. Kenneth rubbed his hand on his forehead and looked from Jo to Big as if to confirm that Big was serious.

  “Big, can I talk to Kenneth alone for a minute?”

  “No, we finish talking about whether he’s gonna go see Paul, and you two can knock yourselves out.”

  “Big, it’s like I told you before, I can’t discuss Paul’s case with you. It’s attorney-client privilege.”

  Big pulled the chair in front of him back and lowered his weight into it. He was wearing jean pants, a well-starched white dress shirt flying over his jeans, and high-top sneakers. He leaned forward and placed his fat arms on Kenneth’s desk. His voice was calm, slow, and deliberate.

  “Kenny, level with me. When did you know that white woman you was with at the club was the bitch trying to throw Paul in the can?” Big asked.

  Kenneth looked at him contemplatively, then turned to look at Jo, but Big snapped his fingers, waving the hand back and forth as if to say, “Look this way…at me!”

  “Just answer me,” Big said. This seemed to pain Jo more than it did Kenneth. She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning back in her chair.

  “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” Kenneth said.

  Jo sat upright again, encouraged.

  “So, you telling me,” Big said, again in a calm but deliberate voice, “you ain’t delaying coming into this case because of some white woman?”

  Kenneth seemed perplexed by Big’s question, and again turned to Jo for some form of enlightenment. The grin on Jo’s face vanished as she turned to Big.

  “I need to talk to Kenneth privately now, Big,” Jo said sternly.

  “This ain’t over, nigger,” Big said and stood up.

  Jo waited for him to leave before she told Kenneth how Big had called her last night to say he recalled one of the DA’s on Paul’s case was a woman Kenneth took to Cool Jo’s Café.

  “When Big saw her leaving the courthouse on Monday, he thought she looked familiar, but he still couldn’t tell she was the person he saw with you at the club until he was at the club last night. He remembered where she was sitting with you, and it all came back to him.”

  Kenneth took a deep breath as Jo told him about Amy’s involvement. He asked if Jo was certain that the deputy DA in the case was Amy Wilson, and Jo said he had just convinced her by saying her name. She recalled the public defender, Joanna Lark, saying Amy’s name, and recalled the name Amy called out as she made her appearance in court. Kenneth was eager to call Amy to clarify her involvement. Something about the case had always made him uncomfortable about getting involved, and all the while he thought it was Big, but learning that Amy was on the other side of the case added a surreal dimension to his discomfort.

  Kenneth excused himself and called the messenger service to go to court and copy the file in People v. Jackson for him.

  “I’m sorry about Big always acting like you owe him something. He said you cost him some money on a business you guys did a while back.”

  “He’s out of his mind if he really believes that,” Kenneth said.

  Jo smiled. “Can I tell you a secret? Big was sent to a foster home in Middletown, Connecticut, like straight from the hospital he was born in, and when he got into school there, white kids liked to make fun of him because he was so much bigger than them, and he liked to pick them up and try to drop them out the window. You can imagine how long that education lasted. Every now and then his mother would try to come and get him, and not succeed. Big was little but he remembers to this day those visits and his mother trying. He ran away, got into trouble, and joined the army. He said what kept him alive sometimes during those tours was the fear that, after searching for him all his life, his mother would finally find him when the US Army sent him home to her in a body bag. You know those guys can find anyone when they want. Anyway, Big ain’t so tough like he wants you to think. He loves the relationship you have with your mother. For him, that’s the best part of you. He might have hurt you in the past, but now that he knows her, he won’t hurt you.

  “Thanks Jo, believe me, I’m not worried about him anymore.”

  Nancy was at Kenneth’s door as soon as Jo and Big left. She leaned on the door and stood there looking at him.

  “Is it true?” she finally asked after a long pause.

  “Is what true?”

  “That you were on a date with the young lawyer on Paul’s case?”

  “That’s
why Big agreed to leave the room so quickly, so he could have your ears.”

  20

  The Promise

  On Friday evening, Amy sat on the floor of her living room watching the movie Blue. Her house phone rang, and she waited long enough to hear Edward leaving a message on the answering machine before she rushed to pick it up.

  “Hold the line,” she said to Edward and turned off the answering machine.

  “Amy, we can’t make it to LA as planned, but we’re in the Bay Area, can you come up?” Edward said after a brief exchange of pleasantries.

  “I would have if you had told me earlier. Why can’t you come all of a sudden?”

  “There was something I wanted to discuss with you while we were there, and I really want you to meet Angela. But something came up.”

  “I’ve been looking forward to it, I’m disappointed.”

  “Not as much as she is, but she comes to LA a lot, I’m sure you two will meet in the next couple of weeks.”

  “What was it you wanted to tell me?”

  “Have you spoken to Mom?”

  “No, are you engaged?”

  “Mom and Dad are getting a divorce.”

  Amy covered her mouth with her palm.

  “Why didn’t Mom say anything to me?”

  “It’s still a shock to her.”

  “Bullshit, Edward,” Amy said, her cheeks quickly wetting with tears. “How did you find out?”

  “Dad told me…Amy, they’ve been living separate lives for a long time. He traveled most of the time to avoid that; I think as he gets older, the traveling is getting harder, so…”

  “He told you that?”

  “Some of it, I deduced the rest.”

  “Edward, can I call you back?” Amy managed to say, her voice shaking with her last comment.

  “Are you going to be alright?” He spoke rapidly, as though he was expecting her to hang up on him.

  “No, no, I will be fine. I mean, am I supposed to take this so well? I’ll call you back,” she said sternly and hung up.

  Slowly, she sat down on the floor, unaware of the extent to which she was about to let go. A wail stuck in her throat was about to erupt. She struggled to breathe, then began to cry. When she collected herself, she tried calling Alana, and failing that, carried herself to bed and laid down, clutching a pillow firmly to her breast. At least this explained why her father has been more distant lately. Usually he would have taken the opportunity of Amy’s starting of a new position to reach out to her and find out how she had been doing. This time, they barely spoke.

  Two hours after she fell asleep, the phone woke her up. She picked up the receiver in her bedroom, expecting Edward, but Kenneth was on the line.

  “Are you busy? Can we meet?” he asked.

  “Oh gosh, not tonight,” Amy said and looked at a clock on her ceiling.

  “Amy, please, I wouldn’t be calling this late if it wasn’t important.”

  “What is this about?”

  “It’s about one of your cases. I won’t take too long.”

  “Which of my cases?”

  “I’ll tell you when I see you.”

  “Okay,” Amy said after a long pause.

  “There’s a bar in Pasadena called Ménage. It’s about five blocks from the end of the Pasadena freeway. You just drive straight from the freeway without turning—”

  “No, come to my apartment instead,” she said and got up to look at her appearance in the mirror.

  “Good, thanks.”

  “What can I offer you, so I can get it before you arrive.”

  “Nothing, unless you know how to make great margaritas.”

  “How long will it take you to get here?” she asked after giving him her address.

  “About thirty minutes.”

  She tidied her living room, showered, and had a few items delivered from the grocery store so she could make Kenneth a margarita. She called Alana’s various numbers several times to no avail. While making the margarita, she called Edward and was on the phone with him when Kenneth arrived.

  “It’s open,” Amy shouted out to Kenneth from the threshold of the kitchen. “I have company, Edward, I’ll call you another time,” she said and waved to Kenneth, who was standing by the door, with his hands behind his back and a puzzled look on his face.

  She had not thought through what she was going to tell him about the flowers from Thomas, when he brought his hands forward to reveal six long-stem roses arranged in a plastic wrap from which he had peeled off the grocery store price tag. He looked to her like a child whose lunch box had just been confiscated by the class bully. She hung up the phone and went to him. Still, he did not move, seemingly preoccupied with the scene in her living room. She reached into his hands and collected the flowers from him.

  “Thanks,” she said and hugged him. She took his jacket and went to hang it in her spare bedroom. She put the flowers in one of the vases that had came with Thomas’s flowers, after emptying the vase into the trash.

  Kenneth was standing by the mantle, examining a picture he held in his hand. Amy walked up close behind him to see the picture herself and Edward when they were very young. Kenneth smiled at her and put the picture back.

  “That was the person on the phone,” she said. “My brother.”

  “Oh, Edward, right?”

  “How did you know that?”

  “You mentioned him many times in college; you two seemed close.”

  “Yes, but it’s been a while. I didn’t expect you to remember.”

  “I remember everything you ever told me in college, considering how crazy I was about you.”

  “What can I get you?”

  “You’re embarrassed to hear me say that,” Kenneth said. She stopped and turned to look at him. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you were one of the smartest people I knew in college. So, you have a good memory,” she said, slightly uncomfortable with the subject and unsure how seriously to take him. “Besides, everyone felt that way about someone back then. We were all prone to extremes,” she added and disappeared into the kitchen.

  “I have never known you to be prone to any extreme, Amy.”

  She returned to the kitchen door and looked at him with an amused smile.

  “You really should get to know me more, Kenneth,” she said. “You still haven’t answered my question. What should I get you?” she repeated.

  “Do you have my margaritas?”

  “I mean besides that.”

  “A glass of water with ice.”

  She went back to the kitchen and returned with two tall glasses of margaritas and handed one to Kenneth. Then she sat on the floor and watched Kenneth admire his drink.

  “I was kidding about the margaritas, you know.”

  “Next time be careful what you ask for,” Amy replied so softly it was almost a whisper.

  “Will you marry me, then?”

  Amy laughed.

  “How bad is the rain out there?”

  “It was worse where I was coming from.”

  “I had to work all last weekend, so they pretty much encouraged me to leave the office early today,” she said. “Where were you coming from?”

  “My client’s place in Torrance.”

  “The case you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “Yes.”

  He pushed off from the love seat. Holding his glass carefully, he sat on the floor facing Amy with his legs crossed. He drank again. She admired his tall frame, his dimples and gentle demeanor.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “I’ve been retained to represent the defendant in People v. Jackson. I heard you’re one of the deputy DAs assigned to the case.” Before he could finish speaking, Amy was getting up. She turned around to face the mantle, with her back to him, then
turned again to look at him.

  “I’m assigned to the case for the preliminary hearing and other pretrial matters. But there’s a senior attorney on the case. Why?”

  “Are you superstitious?”

  “When it yields a result that favors me. Why?”

  “Isn’t it strange that I should meet you the way I did after all these years, only to discover that we’re on opposite sides of a murder trial?”

  “Well, one of us could put an end to this twist of fate by simply walking away from the case.”

  “I can’t walk away from it now,” Kenneth said.

  “Okay, so you put up your case as best you can and lose,” Amy said.

  “My client’s father is the leader of the American Congress of Black Muslims.”

  “So?”

  “He was the one African American leader who did not denounce the Rodney King riots. Many of his followers were arrested. Anyway, he thinks this is connected somehow.”

  “What difference does it make what his father thinks? What else would you expect him to say, that his son did it?”

  Kenneth looked at Amy as though he was unsure how to respond to her. “I wouldn’t put anything past some officers on the LAPD, Amy.”

  “Oh, good lord, Kenneth. You don’t think he was framed, too?” Flustered, Amy waved him away and quickly went into the kitchen. She set her glass on the countertop and leaned over it, trying to collect her thoughts.

  “Well, the trial will tell, right?” Kenneth said loudly, so Amy could hear him in the kitchen.

  “Kenneth, seriously, we are not going there,” Amy shouted back.

  “Okay,” Kenneth said.

  Amy downed what was left of her margarita, suddenly glad she made them. She poured herself more and drank before walking back into the living room. Kenneth’s glass was a third full. She sat down on the couch next to the love seat. Kenneth got up from the floor and sat on the love seat. The affable air of his earlier entrance dissipated into a tense skepticism of self-preservation. Amy felt like she was meeting him for the first time.

 

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