by H. Q. Frost
A pounding on the door makes me look back until I hear the cries of the boys start again. When I look at their faces they're crying like they know whatever is behind that door isn't good.
"Iesha! Open up!" The pissed voice is clear as day as if he's standing in the living room and it triggers the kids to cry harder while Iesha stares like she's been found.
"Iesha," I say, but when I look back, she's rushed the boys into a bedroom off the kitchen.
"Dom!" Panic flings her from the bedroom and she closes the door. "Just stay in here, okay? Don't do nothin'." In her shaking hands is a gun and my eyes pop open wide before they dart to the front door that sounds like it's going to snap.
"What the fuck is going on?" I urge but she waves her hand at me.
"Shh, shh." The gun is tucked into the back of her pants and she screams toward the living room, "I'm comin'!"
The crying boys start to make me nervous and instinct to protect the weak kicks in so I head for the room, closing the door behind me. They're sitting in the middle of the bed and the big one's holding the little one while they both cry with experience in this situation.
"Shh, don't cry," I whisper and kneel next to the bed, not really sure what to do to make them stop. "Do you guys have toys?" Looking around, this can't be their bedroom.
There are no toys or books. There's nothing in here that could entertain kids, and I have no means to make them stop. The conversation that's going on in the living room can be heard clearly through the paper walls, but the frightened cries from these boys are too distracting. These kids have dealt with shit I don't even want to think about, or they wouldn't be acting like this. I try peek-a-boo and it gets the little one to stop, but it takes funny faces to make the big one join in the giggles. As I continue the charades, I realize I haven't heard Iesha once since she let the voice in the house.
That wish I had earlier about not showing up is gone. I'm stupidly glad I'm here with Rupe's kids, to do what he should have been doing from the start. Fear isn't instilled in us until we are taught it. These kids shouldn't be fearing anything other than make-believe boogeymen. The boogeyman is very real to them. It was me before the voice in the living room showed up. The only difference is, I'm not the terror that will keep them up at night.
A loud thud makes the small one jump and the bigger one gasp before they're both staring at the door. Not until the female whimpers start do I stand and it makes the kids start crying again. I don't hesitate though, and I head for the door, closing it behind me. When I step into the living room, Iesha's on the ground and one of two men have a gun pointed at her. It's only a second before the second man sees me and aims his weapon. My gaze drops to Iesha who's holding her mouth, and when I see the blood seeping between her fingers, I take a step until a pistol in my face halts me.
"Who the fuck are you?" he screams.
"What the fuck's going on?" I counter and hear the kids high pitched screams as our loud voices travel the box they're living in.
"Nothing," Iesha stutters with her head turned from barrel.
"I asked you a question." The gun touches my forehead as he steps closer and I lose it.
I twist my arm with his and the gun fires into the kitchen. Before he fires off another shot and a stray bullet hits one of those kids, I wrap my arm around his throat and force his own weapon to his chin.
"Get the gun off her," I shout at the other man who's staring at me but still aiming at Iesha.
Yanking the gun from the guy's hand that I'm choking out, I shove him toward the other.
"Get the fuck out of here," I warn while aiming at them.
"Give me the money, bitch!" The one with the gun kicks her feet.
"I gave you all I have!" Iesha cries with her face protected in her arms.
"How much money?" I get his attention as he starts to force the gun past her arms.
"Fucking cap this bitch!" The one whose gun I stole is losing his cool and I can see the look in his eyes.
He'd rather this all end in a blaze of gun shots and blood.
"Four hundred dollars." Phlegm sprays from the mouth holding Iesha hostage as he looks back and forth between us.
I raise my hands but don't give up the weapon as I slowly walk toward her. "I have money in my pocket," I calmly tell him and move slowly to hand him the gun I'm holding before mimicking the speed to pull the envelope from my back pocket. Dropping it into Iesha's lap, I tell her, "Get out the four hundred and give it to him."
"Dom," she whimpers.
"Do it!" I scream, not surprised I'm in this situation, but pissed and losing my patience yet again.
"I think you're in the wrong neighborhood, homie. Who are you?" He eyes me curiously.
"I'm a family friend. Just take the fucking money and leave."
When she holds out the money, the one without a gun snatches it from her then shoves her from the sitting position she was in.
"Don't fucking touch her," I grit out, using any restraint I have left, and it's not much.
The one with both guns is still staring at me curiously before he hits the other in the arm and says, "Let's go." He turns back before exiting and threatens, "I'll be back next month, Iesha."
Waiting for their exit, I then turn around and peg my gaze on Iesha who's in tears, hiding her face as she remains on the ground.
"Go get your boys," I bark the order with no right but the kids are standing in the kitchen crying.
A week out of prison and I'm already wrapped up in bullshit. I'm just not sure if this bullshit is my own. Why is there punishment for trying to be a good guy and help out a struggling mother? For trying to fulfill a man's dying wish? I do know one thing though, and that's I won't turn my back on someone that needs help from abusive men. It's funny to think Rupert may have been one of the assholes I would have protected Iesha from. I'd like to keep the memory I know alive for him, but so far, his family's current situation is shedding a new light on the guy.
I don't know what the plan is now, or if I should even have a plan other than getting the hell out of here and never coming back. But as soon as she rounds the corner, the little one sees me and smiles, hiding his face like we were playing in the bedroom.
"I'm sorry," Iesha says.
"What was that about?" I try to dial down the accusing tone, but fuck, she's a mother of two small kids. Whatever she's dealing with, she's in over her head.
"That was a debt Rupe owed. I'm still paying it off. Little by little. He comes and collects every month."
"A debt for what?" I bark as if I have a right to know.
"I couldn't tell you. Even though he's dead, they still want their money."
That's fucking evident.
"Do they always…" I glance toward the kids then back at her before quietly asking, "Knock you around?"
"It's life. I didn't know they'd show up when you were here. I appreciate what you did, but you have no business in this."
"What would you have done if I weren't here, Iesha?" I snap at her and she looks up at me with a mother's fury in her eyes, and I know I've overstepped a boundary.
"I've lived my life this far without your interference. I've been cleaning up after Rupe since the day I met him. I take care of mine, Dom. I take care of mine."
The frightened children are now in fear of the anger I've put in their mom, and that guilt is one I don't want to live with.
"I'm sorry." I huff and stare at the door, at my escape, and yet I'm still standing here.
"I'll pay you that money back," she says and tries to hand over the envelope, but I step back.
"I brought that money for you. You take it and do what you need with it. After that four hundred, there's only six left."
"This is not your responsibility." She walks to the kitchen and places the children in their seats where they go back to eating the cold sloppy joes.
"I never said it was. Rupe was my friend and if I can help his family, I will. I'm not worried about the money."
Glancing
at her kids, she heads toward me and both her hands land on my chest, forcing me into the living room.
"What the fuck do you want?" she quietly snarls, staring up at me with a world of anger weighing her down.
"I wanted to give you that to try and help. I told you if I weren't locked up when Rupe was buried, I would have been there and contributed then."
"You think you're gonna move in on his widowed girl or somethin'?"
"Whoa. Not at all." My hands go up and I back away from the woman that's taken this completely wrong. Heading for the door, I mutter, "I should have mailed the money,"
"I don't need your money!"
The lack of appreciation for the fact I just saved her ass is why I need to stay out of other peoples' business, but that's just not me. Especially not when it's a woman fighting on her own.
I glance toward the kitchen. "The money's for my friend's kids, not you." On that note, I'm out the door, securing my backpack straps.
It's six blocks to a main street where I can catch a bus back to my mom's, and I'm not a stupid motherfucker, there's trouble coming for me, and they're creeping in a blue Cadillac behind me. As the car stops, I glance over and see in the passenger seat is the guy whose gun I took possession of, and he's aiming it at me.
"Dom!" a voice yells from behind me but I don't take my eyes from the gun or the asshole grinning at me because he knows I'm saying my blessings.
My time's going to come regardless of the dread I feel or the mercy I beg for, so fear is absent while I wait.
"Dom!" the voice calls again.
"You were lucky this time," the asshole with a gun as his ego mutters before the car speeds off.
"Hey, I'm sorry," Iesha says coming from behind.
"Get back in your house." I turn around and see that look on her face that tells me she thought I was a dead man too.
"Let me get you a ride somewhere."
I want to decline, but the want to live through the night lets her pull me back toward her house.
We walk in the front door and she looks toward her kids. "Um… can you stay with the boys a minute? I'm gonna talk to my neighbor to use her car."
"If it's a hassle—"
"It's not," she ensures and doesn't give me much option as she jogs out the door and toward a neighbor's house.
The boys are sitting in front of the TV with messy faces and I smirk at the life I once envisioned for myself. As I scoop up the smaller one and take him to the sink, there's resentment starting to surface for the things I missed out on with the one person I wanted them with.
"Hey," I call over to the older one who hasn't looked away from the TV since I came in. "Rupe," I call out, not remembering the boy's name, but he looks. "Hey, come here. Let's wash your hands." I smile and he looks down at his hands before walking over to me. "What's your name?" I ask switching out the brothers.
"Jamari," he tells me, playing in the stream of water.
"What's your brother's name?" I look down at the small one that's eating dirt and blurt, "Shit."
My stupid reaction makes Jamari start to laugh and I put him down to pick up the little one again before looking at the door, hoping Iesha will be back soon. I've got common sense, but kids take more than that.
"What's your name, little man?" I don't expect an answer. I know enough to know he doesn't talk yet.
"Zander," Jamari answers, walking back in front of the TV.
A dirty, wet hand reaches for my face so I pull back while I walk him to the sink again, relieved when I hear the front door open. Instinct has me looking over my shoulder to make sure it's their mother and not the fucks from earlier. She stares at me a minute as if she wants to say something, but when our stare becomes awkward, I quickly say bye to the kids. On my way out the door, a girl on the porch trades places with me and we hook gazes a minute.
"Hi," I mumble and continue walking.
As much as I want to stand here and stare at the cute girl, I want to get home and back to the reminder that this isn't the atmosphere I'm forced into anymore.
"Hey," she replies quietly, and when I glance back, she's looking over her shoulder at me.
Even after this evening's events I still manage a smirk at her before she closes the door. It's been a long time since I've seen an attractive girl in the flesh, and though Iesha's good looking, she's also my deceased friend's wife, and I don't roll like that.
Our silent ride makes me brew in discomfort because the look we exchanged at her house has me thinking she's got the wrong things on her mind.
"Here's good," I tell her as we drive through the city streets.
"I can take you to your house," she insists.
"It's fine." Nothing against Iesha, but if those guys followed us, I'd rather be sure of my surroundings before I lead anyone to my mom's.
With the offended look on her face comes an unneeded apology because I'm not the one she should feel sorry for. "I'm sorry about that shit."
"Yeah. It's good. This your phone?" I pick up the phone from the cup holder, and when she nods, I tell her, "Call me if you need anything for the boys, or if there's trouble," while programming my number.
Being met with silence doesn't really give chance to a heartfelt goodbye, nice-to-meet-you departure, so I get out and shove the door closed, flipping up my hood to shield me from the misty rain.
Every car I see has me on edge, but a blue Cadillac is what they were driving, and there isn't one in sight. Sitting at a corner pub, I have my first beer since becoming a free man in an imprisoned world. The alcohol loosens my judgment quickly and I overanalyze the life Iesha is offering the boys. I'm not saying she's not a good mom that doesn't love her boys. I'm saying she's just as confused and messed up as my mom was and I fear for those kids' futures. Being subjected to violence at a young age makes me sad they might end up like me and my brother. Or worse. Their father.
I've never been in Rupe's shoes, but I know in my heart that my family wouldn't suffer because of my actions. I did that. I've been down that bumpy road, and I've lost a lot because of it. It goes to show what you think you know can be flipped upside down when you're faced with actions instead of stories. The bastard should still be on this earth to tell his lies though. I'd make him deal with the consequences of the life he's putting those kids through, and I'd make him fucking fix it or hide it from his family.
I know what makes a man, and I would have loved to beat the reality into him.
My interview at Durante Sons is a new chapter. This is a good start to my future. To my new life. The way I want to this time. No waiting to turn eighteen and graduate from high school so I can move out of my mom's. I'm a grown man that has a lot to prove to himself, and getting an income is the first thing so I can get the hell out of my mom's the second I want. There are a lot of things to follow that too. Like finding a dependable woman, but if I can't do for her, I can't expect loyalty in return.
Iesha's been on my mind since I met her and the boys three days ago. At one point, I was trying to force emotions I'm not feeling because my stupid answer is she needs the right man to take care of her and her boys. That man ain't me though. At least not like that, but I can't get them out of my head.
Maybe it's because my mom has Tony and doesn't need me to protect her anymore, and that's just my instinct. I protected my mom until Nyla came along, and not that I stopped looking out for my mom, but she didn't need me as much. My focus was able to be on my girl and the life I was determined to give us. Right now my mom's okay, my girl is long gone, and I'm rediscovering life, and part of that is finding I still have the urge to protect those that need it.
The heat index at nine in the morning tells me I should take the bus, but with so much on my mind, I need this run and it feels damn good to use the muscles I worked hard for while locked up. Improper nutrition makes it hard to gain and maintain but I managed, and I don't want to lose what Rupe used to call 'the weapon' now.
When I get close to Durante Sons, I stop at the fast-food p
lace on the corner to cool off and change. Not wanting to bring my backpack with me to the interview, I store it in a maintenance closet when no-one's looking then walk the half a block to the shop.
"Dom?" A thinner version of Tony steps into the room I was told to wait in.
"Hi." I approach and shake his waiting hand, having to look away from the uncanny resemblance before I laugh.
"Close the door," he says sitting. "You didn't have to dress like it's a real interview." He smirks at my button down shirt.
I'd rather put in effort than act like I'm being served this job. Like I am.
"So you got the job but first I got a few questions."
"Okay." I nod understandably.
I'm an ex-con. The guy probably wants to cover his ass before letting a delinquent represent him.
"I'm gonna be open with you off the bat. We're like family here, and being you are practically family, I'm hoping I can trust you like you were my own nephew."
When his gaze doesn't move from mine, and he doesn't go on talking, I say, "Uh… yeah. I'm not gonna let you down." Because what the fuck else should I say?
~~*~~
As I change back into basketball shorts and a t-shirt in the McDonald's bathroom, my head's swimming in what just happened. It wasn't a simple get-to-know-me interview. He wanted to make sure I could handle the job task. And I thought I could. Until I got the description.
Landscaping is his cover-up for trafficking. What. I don't know exactly. Don't ask, don't tell is my mentality when it comes to what I'm transporting. I don't want the schematics, I just want the fucking money. So on top of lawn maintenance, I'm required to deliver shipments at least once a week. That's all there is to it, unless you consider the risk I'm putting myself in.
Here's the kicker, the only people that know about this illegal operation are him, me, and one other guy working for the company that he also considers 'like a nephew'. Another fun fact, the other guy, CJ, is also an ex-convict.
'No' sat on the tip of my tongue until money was brought up. The root of all evil, but the stem of happiness. The things that can sprout from that stem washed away the dirt at the root. My own place, a vehicle, helping the boys, and lastly, financially being able to support a relationship if I were to ever find that trustworthy woman.