by Carl Weber
“Do I know you?” she asked in a seductive Haitian accent.
“Come on, Diane, it’s me, Maurice.” He stared at her in amazement. Almost thirty years had gone by, and she still had the same affect on him.
“Maurice? Maurice who?”
“Maurice Johnson, from Bobby Kennedy Junior High School? You took me to Chicago and Indiana, remember?” He could see by her expression that she still had no idea who he was. “Reese. You use to call me Reese.”
She looked at him strangely, then her eyes opened wide.
“Oh, my cute little Reese with the red suspenders.”
“Yes, that’s me.” He sighed, happy that she finally recognized him.
“You’re Reese Johnson?” She took a long, hard look at him.
“Yes, Diane. I’m Reese Johnson. Everyone calls me Maurice now.” He smiled at her, turning his head to the right so that she could see his best side.
“Damn, you got old!” She frowned.
The insult was like a slap in the face, but Maurice tried to keep his emotions under control.
“Yes, Diane, I’ve gotten a little older. I guess we all have.”
“So how’d you find me anyway?” she asked, taking a long drag on her cigarette.
“They’ve got something on the Internet called findanyone. com. It cost five hundred bucks, but it was worth it.”
“So, I guess you think you’re pretty smart, huh, finding me in jail and all.” She never gave him a chance to answer. “So, Mr. Smarty Pants, what brings you all the way up here to see me? Looking to testify against me for what I did to you in the past?”
“No, Diane, I would never testify against you. Besides, the statute of limitations passed a long time ago.”
“So, what do you want, then?”
“Some answers. There hasn’t been a day gone by that I haven’t thought about you and what you might be doing.”
“I thought about you too, Reese. You were different from the others.” She took another drag on her cigarette as she pictured him in his youth. “It was more than sex for you, wasn’t it?”
“Much more, Diane.” He swallowed hard, trying to continue without shedding a tear. “I was in love with you. I would have done anything for you. I just never understood why you left me in that motel room”
He couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. Diane looked at him with pity as she touched the glass. Her explanation was absurd, but in her warped mind she found it reasonable.
“It was your beard, Reese. One day I woke up and noticed you were getting facial hair. It was the most disgusting thing I had ever seen. I honestly became repulsed by the fact that you were getting older.” She looked at him and cringed. Any hint of sympathy had completely vanished. “And you’re even more repulsive now that you’re older. It’s making me sick just thinking that I used to sleep with your old ass.” She spit on the ground in disgust.
Maurice sat in stunned silence for a long time. Diane smoked her cigarette, seemingly unconcerned. Maurice couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She had been the love of his life. He would have gone through hell and high water for the woman, and now he was learning she had dumped him because he had hit puberty. It was more than he could fathom. As he struggled to regain his composure, he couldn’t help but think his entire life had been a lie.
So much of who he had become was based on how Diane had treated him. He really believed that she was in love with him when he was a young, impressionable student. Her sudden, cruel rejection at that campsite had shaped his character from that day forth. His terrible relationship with his parents, his failed marriage, his abuse of so many young women, could all somehow be traced back to that event. And now it was finally dawning on him that Diane was just a very sick woman. And if that were true, then he was beginning to realize his own life had been somewhat insane.
“Did you ever think what you did to me might ruin my life?”
“Do I look like I give a shit?” She let out some more smoke.
Finally he knew there was nothing more he could say to this woman. He stood up without another word and turned to walk away. Diane was incensed that he would leave so abruptly.
“Where the fuck are you going?” she shouted through the glass. “You didn’t even leave me any cigarette money.” She stood up and knocked on the glass to get his attention, determined to have the last word.
Maurice spun around to face her. He wanted to ignore her, but some sick fascination made him curious to know what else she had to say. He sat back down and picked up the phone.
“What?” he asked flatly.
“I just wanted to know, before you leave. Do you have any sons?” She began to laugh maniacally.
“You are one sick bitch. I can’t believe I ever cared about you,” he shouted as he slammed down the phone. Getting up from his chair, he took one last glance at her before the guards buzzed him out of the visiting room.
41
KEVIN
Kevin kissed Alicia tenderly as they stood at the door to her apartment. He didn’t want to leave her but knew he had to get home and ready for work. Plus Alicia had made a steadfast rule that Kevin had to be out of the house before Michael woke up. She loved Kevin and one day hoped to marry him, but until that day she was going to do her best to set an example for Michael.
“Did I tell you I love you today?” Kevin kissed her.
“The way you made love to me last night told me everything I needed to know. But, yes, you did tell me you loved me.” She smiled. So did he.
“I’ll see you after work,” he said tenderly.
“Okay.” She kissed him again. “Kevin?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
They said good-bye once more, then Alicia closed her door. He heard the dead bolt lock into place. Kevin walked down the hallway and was horrified by what he saw when he opened the front door. His Honda was still parked by the curb, but long, jagged scratches stretched from the front to the back. The words I’m an asshole were etched into the car in at least twenty different locations. Kevin’s eyes went wide with rage as he ran to the car to inspect the damage, his fists clenched angrily.
I’m gonna kill that son of bitch, Trevor, he thought. Trevor was the only one he could think of who would do this.
When he reached the car though, he found a newspaper clipping that identified the true identity of the vandal. The headline on the clipping read MAN ACCUSED OF RAPE SWEARS IT WAS A SETUP. Kevin’s mind immediately registered alarm when he realized it was Denise who had done this to his car. He slumped against the hood, real fear overtaking him. The amount of damage she had done must have taken her half the night to accomplish. And in such a busy neighborhood, she must have gone to great lengths to finish it without being noticed. If she was capable of this, she was capable of making false accusations, he was sure of that.
“My God, she’s really gonna do it. She’s really gonna accuse me of rape,” he muttered in disbelief.
His first thought was to tear the clipping to shreds, but his instincts told him it might benefit him later if he saved it. Angrily he got into his car and sped home. Now he felt even more urgency to get to work. If Denise was actually planning on going to the police, Kevin knew he needed to talk to some people who could later vouch for him. He wanted to see Antoine and Miles, the head of school security, as quickly as possible.
By the time he got home and showered, his nerves were a complete wreck. In the shower he had contemplated several times calling in sick, thinking he could never make it through a day in this nervous state. He even thought about returning to Alicia’s apartment, but his terrified feeling that Denise would really go through with her plan convinced him to get to work to talk to Antoine.
He walked to his car full of trepidation, searching the neighborhood suspiciously with every step he took. His heart stopped momentarily as two white men drove by his building very slowly in a black Ford Taurus. Kevin had seen the
same cars used by undercover detectives and was positive these men were there investigating charges against him.
He rushed to his car, hanging his head to conceal his face. He put the car in gear and sped past them as they stepped out the car. They stood beside their car, bewildered, as they watched him pass. Kevin didn’t hear what they said but could tell that one of them was speaking about him as he pointed to the Honda. The other man nodded in agreement, and from his rearview mirror Kevin saw them get back into their car.
He raced all the way to work, checking his mirror at every turn to be sure the black Taurus wasn’t following him. As soon as he arrived at work, he headed for the security office and asked Miles to come with him to the principal’s office to assist with a problem.
The men arrived at the office, and Kevin gave Antoine and Miles the particulars of the bind he was in. Before the first bell the three of them discussed the seriousness of the situation and Kevin’s possible options. After his experience with the black sedan, each of them fully expected that he would have to deal with the police in the near future. Miles, who had been a New York City police officer for fifteen years, recommended that he make a journal to account for his whereabouts over the weeks since his breakup with Denise. Kevin would need to remember where and with whom he had been on certain days. He needed to be prepared for whatever the police asked him. Antoine arranged for coverage for several of Kevin’s gym classes so that he would have time to get his documentation straight.
An hour later he was still sitting in the faculty lounge, compiling the journal, when Antoine and Miles came in, followed by the two white men.
“Kevin,” Antoine told him, “these men are here to talk to you. I think it would be in your best interest to do so.”
Antoine’s voice sounded very official, and Kevin momentarily felt betrayed. Then he realized that his friend was only doing his job. If in fact these men were police, he couldn’t reasonably expect his friend to conceal his presence in the school building. He took a deep breath and prepared to defend himself against the false charges he was sure these men were about to inform him of.
The two men sat at the table across from Kevin. Miles and Antoine stood silently in the doorway, and Kevin tried not to make eye contact with anyone.
“Mr. Brown,” the first man began, “my name is Byrant Marx, and this is Fred Harmon. We have something we’d like to talk to you about.”
Kevin nodded seriously but offered no words in reply.
“I work for your agent, Mr. Hirschfield, and Mr. Harmon here is the coach of the Italian basketball team, the Allegro.”
“Basketball? You mean that Italian team that keeps calling my mother?”
Kevin was totally confused. He had been mentally preparing for arrest, and now these men were there to talk to him about basketball. He turned to Antoine, who was standing in the doorway with a huge grin on his face.
“Mr. Brown,” said the coach, “our team was very close to winning the European Championship last season. We’re very interested in your talents, because we believe that with you at point guard we could win the championship.”
“I really appreciate that, but basketball just isn’t for me anymore.,” Kevin repeated automatically as he had a hundred times before to his mother. “I haven’t even played organized ball since the Hornets cut me almost two years ago.”
“We’re willing to hire a personal trainer to get you in shape for the season. And I’ll be honest—you look like you’re still in tremendous shape.”
Kevin smiled at the compliment. After all of his lunchtime sessions in the weight room with Antoine and Tyrone, he was without question in the best shape of his life.
“Can you honestly tell me you haven’t thought about basketball?” Coach Harmon asked with a smile. He had been coaching for over twenty years, and the one thing he knew about star athletes was that they always thought about the glory days.
“I took a look at the films of you in the NCAA Division II Championship game. I was impressed. I’ve got a seven-foot-two center who would work perfectly with your style, Kevin. I’m asking you to come play for me.”
“I wish I could, Coach Harmon, but I have a new relationship starting and we’re moving to Virginia to be closer to my mother. And my mother really needs me. There is no way I’m leaving the country now.” Kevin lowered his head after Antoine caught his eye and frowned at his answer. “I’m really sorry, especially since you’re right, I do want to play basketball again. But now’s not the right time for me.”
“Mr. Brown, I totally understand what you’re going through. But before you can take care of others, you have to take care of yourself.”
Kevin laughed. “You sound like my mother.”
Marx scribbled something on a piece of paper and passed it, folded, across the table to him. “This is the amount the Allegro are willing to pay you to play basketball for them. I think for this kind of money your mother and new girlfriend might be willing to move to Europe. What do you think?”
Kevin unfolded the paper and read it. One million dollars per year for two years with a $300,000 signing bonus. He refolded the paper and stared at Marx. His mind was spinning. He never dreamed they would offer him so much money. He couldn’t calculate the number of years it would take him as a teacher to earn that kind of money. With this kind of money he could pay off the hospital and get them off Mama’s back.
After so many months and years of denying his love for the game, with this offer in front of him Kevin had to finally be honest with himself. He did still love the game and he did still want to achieve his dream of a professional basketball career. A wave of hope washed over him as he recognized how close he could be to reaching that goal. These men were here offering him everything he had ever hoped for.
“Is this offer serious?”
“I have the contracts for you to sign in my briefcase, as well as a cashier’s check. Minus my agency fee, of course.” Marx reached for his bag.
“Kevin,” the coach told him, “we understand the problems you had with the NBA, but if you’re willing to take a drug test, we’d love to have you.”
Kevin looked over at Antoine. As much as he wanted to sign the papers, he needed some reassurance from his friend that it was the right thing to do. Antoine tried to act as professionally as he could, smiling as he discreetly nodded his approval to Kevin.
Kevin was relieved that they had been so open about the issue of his failed drug test and that they showed faith enough to give him a second chance at his dream. He easily agreed to another test, certain they would find nothing, since he had vowed to never make that mistake again. For another half hour the men worked out the particulars of the deal. Kevin would be allowed to finish the school year as a teacher, then fly directly to Rome to be evaluated by the team’s physicians. Provided the drug test results were negative, he would return to the States to get his affairs in order, then return to Italy in October for the start of their training camp. Mr. Marx and Mr. Harmon agreed that they could give Kevin a week to discuss their offer with Alicia and his mother. After that time they would meet again to finalize the contracts.
After the meeting ended, all involved exchanged hand-shakes, and Miles escorted the two men out of the building. Antoine and Kevin stayed in the faculty lounge, and an awkward silence surrounded them as Antoine settled into a chair across from Kevin.
“I guess both of my best friends are leaving me, huh?” he asked sadly.
“Yeah, it looks that way. I wish I could say something that would make it easier. I can’t believe how much things have changed in just a year.”
“Looks like the Three Musketeers are going their own separate ways,” Antoine mused. “The amazing thing is that we all had things change for the better.”
“Who you tellin’?” Kevin laughed as he marveled at how far each of them had come in one short year. “You’re interim principal. Probably gonna be principal. Tyrone’s starting a career as a professional artist. And me, all of a sudden I�
��m gonna be a pro basketball player, even if it is for a European team.”
“Well, I guess our ladies could have picked worse, wouldn’t you say? Take the rest of the day off, Kevin, and go see Alicia. You can afford it now.” He patted his friend on the back and returned to his duties as interim principal.
Kevin watched Antoine walk out of the lounge, then looked down at the paper on which the offer was written. A wide smile spread across his face, and he leaned back in his chair. His life was almost perfect now. He had Alicia’s love, and now it looked like he wouldn’t have to worry about Mama’s financial problems. Now, if he could just figure out what to do about Denise.
42
DENISE
Denise paced back and forth as she stared out the window of her plush office. In the three months since she and Kevin had split, she had lost almost fifteen pounds. When they had first met, she had the figure and grace of a supermodel. Now she looked more like a drug-abusing child of the sixties. Her clothes were two sizes too big and hung on her gaunt frame. Her hair and makeup had not been done in days, making the dark circles under her eyes even more prominent.
Since the night she had seen Kevin’s car in front of Alicia’s apartment, her mental health had been in a vicious downward spiral. It started when she took out her key and repeatedly scratched vulgarities into Kevin’s car. The job had taken her hours, and every time a car passed or someone walked by, she knew she was in danger of being caught. She didn’t care. Her only concern was sending Kevin a message.
For days she obsessed about the fact that he had been to Alicia’s. In Denise’s warped mind Alicia was the only thing preventing them from getting back together. She repeatedly made calls to his apartment and actually spent a twenty-four-hour period parked in front of Alicia’s building with a knife when Kevin wasn’t answering his bell. When Kevin never showed, she was bold enough to pound on Alicia’s door in the middle of the night. A neighbor finally told her that Alicia and Michael had moved with the help of a nice young man. The neighbor never said Kevin’s name, but in her heart Denise knew it was he who had helped them move, and she was enraged.