Déjà Vu

by Suzetta Perkins

  “Ms. Macy?”

  “Yeah, Ms. Adele Macy from the North Carolina Correctional Institution for Women.” Donna smirked. “We’re home girls. Twenty-two hours and twenty-eight minutes.”

  “So, Ms. Macy is spying on me. Why? I don’t understand any of this and I don’t want to. I thought you brought me here as a courtesy for being Hamilton’s ex-wife…because you were doing a favor for your family.”

  “Hamilton may be my cousin, but there is no love lost. He’s getting what he deserves.”

  Angelica picked up her bags. “Thanks for the memories.”

  “Anyway, Adele contacted my mother looking for my phone number. She told Mommy about you getting out of prison.”

  A puzzled look crossed Angelica’s face. “Why would she call you? Why would she call your mother to tell her about me? What’s going on here?”

  Donna moved from her position and quickly reached the door to the condo before Angelica.

  “You can run, but you can’t hide. You’re going to have to pay for your sins. At every corner, every train depot, at every fork in the road, there will be someone observing you. You won’t get away.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Donna, but I’m glad to be getting up out of here.”

  “Twenty-two hours and twenty-five minutes,” Donna sang and slammed the door just as Angelica cleared it.

  Donna’s taunting disturbed Angelica. What did it all mean? How was Ms. Macy involved? She had done her time and paid for the crime she had committed—stupidity. While in jail, her betrayal of Hamilton and Jefferson had haunted her day and night. She had gotten what she deserved, but now Angelica wanted to be a productive citizen and possibly right some of her wrongs. So far, she had done a lousy job of it.

  Angelica looked at her watch. She had less than a minute to get downstairs. Donna’s words still ate at her. Was Ari one of the corners she had to tread? Right now she needed a place to stay, and Ari’s offer was a blessing in her time of need. Or was it? She couldn’t think about that now. Finding a job so that she could become independent would be her chore, and Angelica vowed she’d do it.

  The doors to the elevator opened and Ari was waiting like the perfect gentleman. He took her bags and told her to wait while he brought his car around. Ten minutes later there was a honk, and Angelica went outside. A Jaguar sat out front, and Ari was at the wheel.

  A look of surprise registered on Angelica’s face. Ari opened the door to the Jag like he would if he were on duty and shut it once Angelica was inside. Angelica silently mouthed, Eat your heart out, Donna.

  They rode in silence away from Manhattan. After a few moments, Ari turned on the radio and light jazz hit the airwaves. It took another few minutes before Angelica relaxed; Donna’s words about someone watching her still resounded in her ears. Angelica looked over at Ari, who seemed to be enjoying the music.

  “I guess you think I’m some kind of bimbo,” Angelica said to Ari while looking straight ahead.

  “Why would I think that?” Ari responded. “You’re a beautiful woman who’s in a dilemma. I’ve seen it many times. Now, I don’t go opening my doors to everyone who falls prey to Ms. Donna Barnes Reardon, but your need seemed urgent enough that I had to help.”

  “Thank you, Ari. I really appreciate it. I don’t go off with people I don’t know, but, as you put it so eloquently, I was desperate.”

  Angelica began to laugh and so did Ari. “You should have seen your face,” Ari said. “You reminded me of the Statue of Liberty, waving her torch for someone to stop.” They laughed again, and Angelica really relaxed.

  “So tell me about yourself, Ari,” Angelica prodded.

  Ari looked at Angelica. “What do you want to know?”

  “Whatever you are willing to share.”

  “I was a poor immigrant’s son. Our family came from Greece back in the 1950’s. My family owned a little restaurant in Queens, and I worked there until I finished high school. Broke my Papa’s heart. He thought I would take over the business one day, but I didn’t see it in my future. I had a sister who took over the business after my parents died. Still owns it.”

  “So what did you do after high school?”

  “I wanted to act. Took some acting classes in town. Actually did some Broadway. I was never in a leading role, but it was a good living because I seemed to always have a job. If I had gotten that break everybody pursues, I might have been a Cary Grant or a Clark Gable. I liked show biz, and it’s still a big part of me. Maybe we can catch a show on my day off.”

  Angelica smiled. “I’d like that.”

  “What about you, Angelica? What was life like for you before the penthouse?”

  Angelica fidgeted in her seat. She hadn’t planned on Ari throwing the question back at her. It was uncomfortable, and Angelica had no planned speech for such an occasion. What could she say?

  “Life was full for you, huh?” Ari asked. “Don’t know where to start?”

  “Life hasn’t exactly been good for me, Ari. I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of and the stench of it still seems to follow me.”

  “Couldn’t be that bad. A beautiful woman such as yourself probably has had the world eating out of your hand.”

  “I wish. Nothing as great at that, although I will say that I had everything I wanted, but it came at a cost. In fact, I paid a high price for a delusion of grandeur.

  “I was married to a prominent police officer in Fayetteville, North Carolina, where I come from. He was so handsome. Hamilton is his name. He was the kind of handsome your girlfriends would say you have to watch out for because he was too fine to have as a husband and it wouldn’t be long before he’d be stepping out on you. I didn’t listen because I had to have him.” Angelica purposely left out how she met Hamilton in a strip club. “True to everyone’s belief, Hamilton not only had affairs with other women, he was an abuser—mental and physical.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Ari said.

  “We divorced years later. However, Hamilton was involved in some illegal mess. I became indirectly involved…” Angelica stopped, not sure how much of the awful details of her life she wanted to share.

  “You don’t have to say any more, if you don’t want to.”

  “Ari,” Angelica looked at him, “I want to be honest with you. You seem like an honest individual. As I said earlier, I did some horrible things that include sleeping with my best friend’s husband, and I compromised her husband and my ex-husband, Hamilton.”

  Ari squirmed in his seat.

  “I embezzled funds from my girlfriend’s husbands’ accounts—he owned a financial securities firm—for the head of an underground organization. I’m ashamed to say that I was the girlfriend of this underground figure, although Hamilton and Jefferson—my girlfriend’s husband—did not know it. Fast-forwarding, this underground figure put a hit out on Hamilton and Jefferson and I tried to warn them. I was with Jefferson when he was hit and, much to my chagrin, his wife, who was once my best friend, found out. More than that,” Angelica hesitated, then sighed, “I was sent to prison for my part. I was released a few weeks ago. Yes, I’m an ex-convict, released early for good conduct, but I’m a good person, Ari. I’ll understand if you want to drop me and my bags off at the side of the road.”

  “It won’t be necessary,” Ari said, looking straight ahead.

  Ari pulled into what appeared to be a quiet neighborhood in Queens. There were no loitering people or children playing in the streets. He pulled his Jag in front of a modest, single-dwelling brick home. Absent were the spacious yards she was accustomed to in North Carolina. There was a lot of concrete with little or no yard. Houses were close together, each one unique in its own way—a row of similar but eclectic houses that were postcard perfect.

  Ari continued to be the perfect gentleman, retrieving her bags and leading the way inside. Angelica followed behind him. Ari disappeared into a room, leaving Angelica to herself. The living room was airy and decorated with French pro
vincial furniture that was covered in plastic. Lots and lots of plants—spider, devil’s ivy, mother’s tongue, African violets—were scattered throughout, and a modern entertainment system stood against the wall full of pictures of loved ones and a twenty-seven-inch color TV that sat in the center.

  Ari reappeared. “I’ll show you to your room. Your bags are already there. I hope you will be comfortable.”

  “Look, Ari, I do appreciate what you are doing, and I hope I haven’t caused you any inconvenience.”

  “Not at all.”

  “You’ve been awfully quiet since I spilled the beans. Not quite the bio you expected to hear, but I wanted to be upfront and honest with you. I’m not the shallow person people believe that I am, and if I can get on my feet, I’m going to prove it to all the naysayers in my life.”

  “I believe you, Angelica. Why don’t you sit down and make yourself comfortable? Would you like something to eat? I can warm up some leftovers from yesterday.”

  “No, Ari, I’m not very hungry. I know you’ve had a long day. Why don’t you relax, get settled in and pretend that I’m not here? I’m going to sit here and thank God for sending you.”

  Ari sat down. “I’m glad to help. No strings.”

  16

  He rubbed his wrists, the weight of the chains gone, he hoped, forever. Passing the cage-like cells of his neighbors for the last five years, Jefferson raised his fist high and gave a salute along with a smile that showed he was convinced he would be free.

  Aided by a walker, Jefferson was taken to a room where he met his attorney, Stacy Greer. Stacy had been with Jefferson during his trial and conviction five years before. She believed that it would be an injustice for Jefferson to remain in jail for twenty years, especially since he had tried relentlessly to get out of Operation Stingray and distance himself from the organization. But he had to pay for what he had done—stealing money from his clients. His wife Margo had to pay twice, once with Jefferson’s absence and the other with their savings, which was nearly all that they had.

  In the front of the eggshell-colored room was a ten-foot-long table. At the table sat three people with microphones in front of them, the parole board that consisted of an all-white, two women-and-one man panel. A shorter table sat across from the long table, and this was where Jefferson and Stacy sat.

  At exactly two-thirty, one of the women on the panel brought the meeting to order and announced that the proceedings were for the parole hearing of Jefferson Myles versus the State. The woman stated the particulars of the case, evidence that might render an unfavorable parole judgment, reasons for immediate release, and Jefferson’s history while incarcerated. Jefferson and Stacy sat and listened as the information was shared, argued, and sifted through. After thirty minutes, Jefferson and Stacy were asked to step outside, but inside of five minutes, they were asked to return.

  “Jefferson Myles,” the man spoke this time, “please stand.” Stacy stood with Jefferson. “We have reviewed the evidence in your case, the nature of your request for parole, and have rendered a verdict.”

  Jefferson stiffened at the latter part of the man’s statement. He swallowed hard and focused his eyes on the bearer of his fate.

  “Mr. Myles, a unanimous decision has been made in your case.” Jefferson thought the guy was never going to let the verdict roll from his tongue. “You are free. Welcome back to society.”

  “Oh my God, oh my God. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Jefferson said, and then turned to hug Stacy, whose tears were already running down her face.

  The panel nodded as if it weren’t a big deal and Jefferson ought to be glad that it was his lucky day.

  Jefferson didn’t care what they thought now. He was free…a free man who could go home to his wife and his family and try to start afresh. Jefferson raised his hand high. “Thank you, God. You do answer prayers.”

  “Let’s go and call Margo,” Stacy insisted. “She will definitely want to hear this piece of news.”

  “I’m ready,” Jefferson cried. “I’m ready.”

  Margo paced back and forth in the house she once shared with Jefferson. Winter had come down from Raleigh to be with her to offer support if the news was negative, and to be whatever Margo needed if the news was positive. There was no quieting the rumbles in Margo’s stomach. She prayed for good news.

  Winter brought her mother a cup of tea to help calm her nerves. She rubbed Margo’s back and sat down next to her mother, her own nerves stretched to the limit already. The day was far spent, and no telephone call had come. Margo wasn’t able to depend on the television news because they had said very little about Jefferson or the possibility of his parole.

  The clock chimed three times and the two women looked at it, their hopes all but dashed. At three-twenty, the phone rang, but neither of the women had enough courage to pick up the receiver and hear the news. After the fifth ring, Winter answered the phone.

  “Winter?” she heard Jefferson say after she said hello.

  “Dad?”

  “Yes, it’s me,” Jefferson said, his voice light. “Where is your mother?”

  “She’s right here.” Winter winked and handed Margo the phone.

  “Jefferson?” Margo whispered, trying to hold back her excitement.

  “Margo, baby, I’m free!” Jefferson wailed. “Five minutes ago, they made the announcement.”

  “Oh my God. Oh my God!” Margo kept repeating. She jumped to her feet and grabbed Winter and hugged her until Winter pushed her away. “That’s wonderful, Jefferson. I’ve prayed for this day. God does listen. How soon before you come home?”

  “It will be several hours. I’ll have to out-process, but Stacy will bring me home.”

  “I wish I was there with you,” Margo said.

  “I don’t want you to have to see this prison again,” Jefferson said. “We will celebrate when I get home. I want to hold you and never let go.”

  Margo was choked up. The words wouldn’t come out for the sobs. Finally, Margo caught her breath. “Hurry, baby. Hurry home.”

  “I will,” Jefferson said. And the line went dead.

  “Let’s hurry and get you processed out,” Stacy said. “This was a great victory.” She hugged Jefferson.

  “Thanks, Stacy. This day would not have happened without you. I owe it all to you.”

  Stacy smiled, grabbed Jefferson’s arm and slowly paraded him out of the room, moving as fast as the walker would allow.

  Margo flopped down on the couch, overcome with emotion. Winter scooted down next to Margo and rubbed her mother’s back to offer comfort. Winter closed her wet eyes and then looked toward the ceiling and said a thank you, Lord.

  Several minutes passed. Margo wiped the tears from her face and reached over and squeezed Winter.

  “Okay, enough of this,” Margo said. “We’ve got to have a celebration. Winter, call your sister and brothers, I’ll call Pastor, and…”

  “What about Malik?” Winter smirked, trying to hide a smile. “You know how upset he was because you didn’t tell him that Dad might be released.”

  “Let me worry about Malik, Madam All-up-in-my-business.”

  “Mother, I’m only saying you have to consider telling Malik. You might want to invite him to the celebration, too.” Winter got up and turned away so her mother would not hear her giggle.

  An embarrassed looked crossed Margo’s face, followed by a scowl. “I’m telling you, for the last time, that Malik is your father’s friend as well as a friend to the family. I appreciate him checking on me while Jefferson was away. That’s all there was to it.”

  “Okay, Mother. Don’t get upset. I’m not mad at you if you had a teeny-weenie little crush on Malik. It was probably good for your ego. I love my dad, but remember, he wasn’t perfect.”

  “And two wrongs don’t a right make. Remember that, young lady. It’ll take you far in life. Now, get up and go do what I told you to do. I’ll handle the party arrangements.”

  “At your pleasure, Mother
dear.”

  Margo continued to sit on the couch and watched Winter leave the room. Now left to her own thoughts, Margo realized this was the day she had waited for, prayed for…for five long years. God had honored her prayers. Thoughts of Malik swirled in her head while mixed emotions settled in her stomach. Whatever it was that tried to cloud this moment, she had to suppress it. This was not the time to start having feelings for another man or even think about another man. Her attention needed to be fully focused on Jefferson’s release and his return to her and the children.

  “Got you to thinking, huh?”

  Margo looked up at Winter. “Don’t be smug, little girl. I can still spank that behind of yours.”

  “All right, Mother. I’ve called everybody to let them know about Dad. Wasn’t sure when you were planning to have this party.”

  “Today. I want banners to welcome Jefferson home. Gosh, I’ve got to get up from here. I’ve got to order a cake and get some refreshments.”

  “Mom, are you serious? Only Winston and I will be here.”

  “No, I’ve got to call the Pastor, church members and Malik. Hand me the phone, Winter. I can’t waste any more time. I’ve got so much to do in so little time. We’re going to have a celebration!”

  Winter watched her mother. She was like her mother in so many ways, although she was her father’s child.

  17

  Angelica sat up in bed and scanned her new surroundings. She tossed and turned throughout the night but had been able to doze off for at least a few hours. She was appreciative of Ari, even though she really knew nothing about him, except for what he had told her on the ride to the house. Now she hoped not to lose too much sleep over it because it beat being homeless.

  She listened to see if she could hear Ari stirring. The house was quiet save for the noise outside—the hustle and bustle of New York City getting ready to start the day.

  She found her watch and looked at the time. It was five-thirty in the morning. It was time for her to get up, but she didn’t feel comfortable roaming about the house. She’d wait until she heard Ari moving about.