by Carl Weber
“Leave my mommy alone, Daddy! You’re nothing but a big bully! I hate you! I hate you!” Michael picked up an ashtray and threw it at his father.
“I’m sick of you, ya little pain in the ass. You gonna learn to respect me.” Trevor’s eyes got small, and he threw the bat down to remove his belt. He chased Michael until he got close enough, then swung the belt. It landed with a smack on Michael’s back, and he let out a howl.
“Mommy! Mommy!” Michael screamed as his father hit him again and again.
“Stop it, Trevor!” Alicia screamed, racing out of the bathroom.
“Why, you ready for your ass whuppin’ now?” Trevor took a few steps toward her.
“No, but I’m ready to give one out, you fucking bastard.” Alicia took a deep breath as she moved into karate stance.
“What the fuck you doin’?” Trevor laughed. “You been watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer again?” Trevor tightened his grip around his belt and walked forward.
I hope this shit works, Alicia thought as she waited for Trevor to come within striking range. When he did, she let out a loud “hi-ya!” as her foot traveled quickly into Trevor’s stomach and knocked the wind out of him. Instinctively she followed the kick with a flurry of karate blows around Trevor’s head, finishing him off with a swift kick between the legs. He dropped to the floor like a piece of lead.
Oh, my God! It worked, it really worked! She wanted to jump in the air with her fists raised but swooped the trembling Michael into her arms instead.
Kevin pulled his new car in front of Alicia’s building exactly seven minutes after he had hung up the phone with Michael. It wasn’t the Ford Expedition he had wanted but, rather, a 1997 Honda Civic. Still, he was proud of it, especially since he paid for it himself, without the help of Denise.
As he pulled up, he noticed several police cars in front of the building. He jumped out of his car and ran to the building. As he went down the hall, he stared angrily at a badly beaten man in handcuffs being escorted by two police officers.
Oh, no, Kevin thought when he recognized Trevor from pictures he’d seen. If he looks like that, what does she look like?
Kevin ran to Alicia’s apartment expecting the worst.
“Uncle Kevin! Uncle Kevin!” Michael ran across the room, flying into Kevin’s arms. The boy was still shaking. Kevin’s eyes widened as he peered across the living room that looked like a battle zone.
“Where’s your mom?”
“Right there.” Michael pointed with a trembling hand. Alicia was walking out of her bedroom, followed by a female police officer.
“You okay?” Kevin was relieved that she didn’t look too seriously hurt.
“My hand’s a little sore but I’m okay. What are you doing here?” It was evident from her voice that Alicia was glad to see him.
“Michael called me. He said you needed help, but judging from the looks of Trevor outside, he was the one who needed it. What the heck happened?”
“My mommy beat the shit out of my daddy.” Michael said, burying his head in Kevin’s shoulder. Both officers laughed.
“Michael, what did I tell you about that word?” Alicia looked at the two officers. “I’m sorry about his language.”
“It’s all right. It’s not like he lied,” the male officer said.
“Ms. Meyers’—the female officer approached—“I think we have everything we need, for now anyway. Once you get together a list of the broken items, we’ll see what we can do about getting you some restitution.”
“Thank you, officer.” She walked them to the door, then turned to her son. “Michael, this has been a very long night for both of us, and I think you need to get some rest. Come on and I’ll help you get ready for bed.”
“Can’t I stay up and talk to Uncle Kevin a little longer?” Kevin let Michael down. He could tell by Alicia’s voice that she was emotionally drained.
“No, it’s time for bed, kiddo,” Kevin told the boy. “Now, go ahead in your room and your mom will be in there in a minute.”
Kevin gave Michael a high-five and said good night. He watched the boy walk into his room and then turned to ask Alicia, “Hey, I know it’s none of my business, but you wanna tell me what’s going on around here?”
“I stood up for myself, Kevin. For the first time in my life I stood up for myself. And you know what? It felt good.”
Alicia looked like she was about to cry, so Kevin walked over and wrapped his arms around her. Alicia felt as if she could hold on to him forever. She had stood on her own tonight, and now it felt good to have a little support.
“Mommy! Mommy!” Michael called.
“Let me go check on him.” Alicia reluctantly let go of Kevin. “I still need to talk to him about everything that’s happened tonight.”
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” Kevin bent over to start cleaning up the mess.
Several hours passed before Alicia was able to calm Michael enough for the child to fall asleep. Kevin checked in on them several times, but for the most part he waited in the living room, cleaning up, while Alicia comforted her son as only a mother could. When she finally left Michael’s room and closed the door, Kevin stood and reached out for her hand. He helped her get settled on the couch.
“Kevin, I really can’t thank you enough for coming here. There’s not many brothers who would do that after the way I treated you.” She hugged him tightly.
“Most brothers don’t feel the way I do about you, Alicia. You’re very special to me.”
“I can see that now.” They shared a peaceful silence before Alicia changed the subject. “Michael is really terrified that Trevor might come back. I just know he’s going to have nightmares all night.”
“You know, Alicia, he might not be so wrong. There’s no telling if Trevor is gonna make bail.” Kevin knew the words were frightening, but he wanted her to be prepared. “No offense, but he might have killed you if that was a real bat.”
“I know”
“Look, why don’t I stay, spend the night on your couch in case he does try to come back?”
“I’d like that” The relief was evident in her voice. She had been unsure if she could ask Kevin to stay but knew she would feel much safer with him there.
They stayed up for another hour, though neither of them had much to say. Just being together was healing enough for the moment. After a while Alicia headed for her bedroom, hoping she would be able to fall asleep. Kevin stayed on the couch with a small blanket to cover him.
A few hours before dawn Alicia came back into the living room and stood beside the couch.
“Kevin,” she whispered, “are you awake?”
“Mmm-hmm” He rolled over and squinted his eyes to see her in the dark. “Are you okay?”
“I still can’t sleep. And I keep thinking about you out here on this uncomfortable couch.”
“I’m fine, Alicia.”
“Do you want to come stay in my bed with me?”
Kevin sat up, a little surprised.
“I want us to get back together, Kevin. I’m not saying it has to be today. The truth is, I need a little time to get myself together.”
“I could probably use a little more time myself,” he replied. She held his hand as he stood up. Gently he put his arms around her.
“Come to bed, Kevin. I just need you to hold me.”
“Are you sure about this?” he asked.
“After all the mistakes I’ve made, I know I’m right about this. This is where you belong.”
Under the covers with his arms surrounding Alicia, Kevin felt something he never had with Denise. He felt the warmth of love. They both had things to work out on their own, and it was going to take time before he and Alicia could repair their damaged relationship. He’d probably have to go to counseling with her, but it was all going to be worth the wait.
35
TYRONE, SYLVIA, AND MAURICE
Sylvia stomped up the stairs to the Alternative High School for Boys with the
intention of confronting her husband. She had come to inform Maurice that she was divorcing his sorry ass, the sooner the better. Checking her watch, she was happy to see that it was only 12:30 P.M. She knew this was Tyrone’s lunch hour, and he would not be at the front desk until after his workout. She wanted to do this on her own. Entering the building, she walked down to the office and smiled at Mrs. Rogers, the school secretary.
“Hi, Mrs. Rogers, how are you?”
“I am blessed, Mrs. Johnson, how are you?”
“I’m going to be great in about fifteen minutes. Is my husband in?”
“Yes, he’s been expecting you ever since you called.” She knew it wasn’t her place to ask what Sylvia’s last comment meant.
Maurice was sitting on the comer of his desk, looking at a file, when Sylvia walked in.
“Sylvia, I’m so glad you came. I’ve really missed you.” He tried to hug her.
“Don’t put your hands on me.” She pushed him away and sat down in a chair in front of his desk.
“Look, I know you’re still upset about last week. But I just want to apologize. I had no cause to treat you like that.” He tried to sound sincere.
“You were going to fucking rape me! Do you really think your apology is going to make me forget about that? Fuck you, Maurice.”
“Sylvia, it was the alcohol that made me act that way. Just come home with me, please. I’ll do whatever it takes to make our marriage work. I’ll go to therapy, a marriage counselor, whatever you want me to do. I just want you to come home, sweetheart. I need you.”
It was so unlike Maurice to beg, but he was desperate to have his wife back.
“Look, we need to get away, be a family again. How about you, Jasmine and me go away for two weeks in Paris? Come on. You love Paris this time of year.”
He walked around his desk, opening a drawer, and handed her three tickets. Sylvia glanced at the tickets, then up at Maurice. She was amazed to see genuine tears glistening in his eyes.
“Sylvia, I’ve done a lot of stupid shit over the years. But since you’ve been gone, I realize that I really need you, baby.” They both turned when they heard a knock on the door.
“Mrs. Rogers said you wanted to see me, Dr. Johnson?” Tyrone stuck his head in the door. He did a double take when he realized it was Sylvia sitting in the office.
“Yes, Mr. Jefferson, come on in and have a seat.” Maurice wiped his eyes and smiled as Tyrone walked in. “This will take only a second, Sylvia.”
Tyrone’s nervousness was apparent as he walked slowly into the room and took a seat next to Sylvia. A few days before, Sylvia had dropped the bombshell that Maurice was her husband. Now Tyrone was afraid that in her mood of revelations, she might have told Maurice about their affair.
“You know my wife, don’t you, Mr. Jefferson?” Maurice was back to his old self, smiling devilishly as he leaned back in his chair.
“No, I haven’t had the pleasure,” he answered as perspiration began to form on his forehead. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Johnson,” he said stiffly.
“Oh, sure you have, Mr. Jefferson.” He looked over at Sylvia. “Haven’t you two met before?”
“No, I’d remember someone as handsome as him.” She gave Tyrone a look of reassurance to make him relax.
“You know, Sylvia, three weeks ago Mr. Jefferson filed a stolen badge report. Didn’t you, Mr. Jefferson?”
“Yes, sir, Dr. Johnson. I’m still trying to find that badge.”
Maurice reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a badge, tossing it to Tyrone.
“Is this your badge? I found it a couple of days ago.”
Tyrone looked at the serial numbers and smiled. “Yes, sir, this is mine. You don’t know how happy I am you found it. They were going to take three hundred dollars out of my next check to replace it.” His relief was short-lived.
“Let me tell you how I found it. You two will get a real kick out of this. My wife here’s been gone from the house for about two weeks, and she’s got my car.” He smiled wickedly at her. “So now I’m forced to drive her car. Well, the other day I get in real fast and sit down. Out of nowhere, I get this sharp pain in my ass.”
“Isn’t that ironic?” Sylvia laughed out loud. “You’ve been a pain in my ass all my life.”
“I reach down in between the seats and I find your badge, Mr. Jefferson. Any idea how it got there?” Maurice’s eyes went back and forth from Sylvia to Tyrone. The two of them were in shock. “So how long have you two been fucking?”
“Probably about the same amount of time you’ve been fucking those girls from 1-900-BLACK-LUV,” Sylvia retorted.
Maurice was shocked that she knew about the date line. “Listen, Sylvia, my argument is not with you. It’s with Mr. Tyrone Jefferson over here.”
“Oh, your argument is with me all right, because he’s not the one divorcing you, I am.” She smirked.
“Divorce? You can’t be serious.”
Maurice was visibly shaken by her last words. He had always believed in her unconditional love. He never thought things between them would get to the point of divorce.
“Oh, yes, I can. My lawyers plan on serving you with papers this afternoon.”
“This is all your fault, Jefferson.” Maurice stood and pointed his finger in Tyrone’s face. “And from this day forward I can promise you a life of fucking hell. Get the fuck out my office. You’re fired.”
“Don’t you fire me, Maurice. I don’t give a fuck how mad you are. Transfer me, suspend me, but don’t you fire me. I’ve got two little girls whose mothers depend on the money I send them.”
“If you’re so worried about your kids, tell my wife you’re never going to see her again. Tell her that she needs to go home to her husband and work things out. Otherwise, I promise you will never work security in the state of New York again.”
“Fuck you, Maurice! He doesn’t need you or this shittyass job. Tyrone’s an artist. He’ll make it with or without your job. Besides, you don’t have the power to fire him.”
Tyrone thought about it. “You know what, Maurice? Sylvia’s right. You have no legitimate reason to ask the board to fire me. Fuck you!” He embraced Sylvia.
“You think I’m going to let you get away with this, Jefferson?” Maurice snapped a pencil in his hands. “That’s my wife we’re talking about.” He slammed his hand on the desk, frightening Sylvia.
Tyrone grabbed Maurice by the tie, pulling him sharply down against his desk. “Not only do I think I’m going to get away with it, I already have. And don’t think I forgot you tried to rape her.” He let go of the tie when Sylvia tapped him on the shoulder.
“Forget him, he’s not worth the effort,” she whispered.
Maurice stood up and straightened his clothes. “So this is what it’s come to, huh, Sylvia? You’d rather be with some scumbag security guard from the projects than with me?”
“Yeah, that about sums it up” She hugged Tyrone.
“All right, then. I want your shit out of my house by the end of the week.”
“Your house?” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “You know what, Maurice, I’ll gladly take my stuff out of that house. It’s got nothing but bad memories in it anyway”
“Oh, and I’m not letting you have any of my money either.”
“Your money? Ha! Daddy left that money to me.” Sylvia sat calmly in her chair and checked her manicure. “Besides, my lawyer told me to take all the money out of the bank before I came over here. I hope you have lunch money, because all our joint accounts are closed.”
“You bitch!”
Maurice tried to jump across his desk but was met by Tyrone, who shoved him back.
“Don’t even think about it or I’ll break your pretty ass in half.”
“You two think you’re really cute, don’t you? Well, don’t worry. I’ve got enough cash squirreled away until my lawyers can get the money you’ve taken.” Maurice slammed his fist on his desk, then pointed his finger at Tyrone. “But you,
Jefferson, you’re finished around here.”
There was a knock at the door and Miles, head of school security, walked in without waiting for an answer.
“Miles, just the man I wanted to see. Can you escort Mr. Jefferson off the premises? Once I talk to the superintendent, he won’t be working with us.”
“You don’t have to talk to anybody. I quit.” Tyrone kissed Sylvia just to piss Maurice off as he walked out the door.
Miles could feel the tension in the room as he watched Tyrone walk out of the office with his arm around Maurice’s wife. He had no idea what had just happened, but he had other business to attend to. He stood in front of Maurice’s desk and stared at the man.
“What is it, Miles?”
“Dr. Johnson, I think we have a bigger problem than Jefferson.”
“Not another fight?”
“No, sir, it’s the police, and they wanna speak to you.” Miles went to the door and gestured for the two plainclothes policemen to enter.
“Are you Maurice Johnson?” the taller of the cops asked.
“Yes.” Maurice nodded.
“Do you own a 1999 Mercedes license plate 451-LHJ?”
“Yes, why?” Maurice felt a little chill.
“We’ll ask the questions Mr. Johnson,” the shorter cop told him.
“Do you know this girl?” The taller officer handed Maurice a Polaroid.
Not this shit again, Maurice thought. He’d left the woman asleep in his cabin in Vermont over the weekend.
“Yes, officer, I know her. Her name is Valerie Gordon. We went out this weekend.”
“Well, Mr. Johnson, Ms. Gordon says you raped her.”
Maurice laughed. “Does taking your clothes off and straddling a man till you have a climax constitute rape? ’Cause that’s what happened, officer.”
“Well, sir, that’s not the version Miss Gordon reported to us, so you’ll have to come answer some questions.”
“Look, this can all be cleared up very easily,” Maurice said confidently. “I have a videotape of our lovemaking on which I’m sure you will clearly see it was consensual.”