BOMAW 12-14

by Mercedes Keyes

  In a matter of moments, that little girl became Meribel's hope, she became the very being that Meribel would strive for. In fact, she kept the TV on that particular channel, not letting anyone turn away, and rushed setting up the DVD recorder to capture it the next time it played - because each time the commercial ran, she wanted to see that little girl. With her recorded, holding Derrick's hand, she pulled him into the living-room, and stood him before the TV - finally to see what she wanted.

  She stood with the remote in her hand and pushed play - waiting, holding onto him, bidding him to wait - to watch the TV, so that he could see her too. The recorded charity commercial played.

  "Watch, don't take your eyes from it - THERE - there she is, her!" She paused the player, "... Derrick - I want her, I want her... look at her, isn't she beautiful? As hungry as she must be, still she has spirit, resentment! I want her! I want her." She declared with so much passion Derrick didn't doubt for a moment that she meant every word.

  Looking down into his wife's eyes, "Are you saying you want to adopt?" He asked to be clear about what she was asking.

  "Yes, I want to adopt!" She returned, "But not any child, I want her - that little girl!"

  "Meri, I don't think that's even possible. First, there's no telling how old this commercial is, second - she - well, she may not even be alive still." He softened his voice compassionately.

  "She is! I know she is - that's our daughter - she was meant to be ours, I know it as I live and breathe. I want her Derrick, I want her. We have to find out what we have to do to get her, get her here with us, with me, we must!" She pressed.

  "Meribel! Just normal adoption is a mine-field, is a complicated and stretched out affair that could take years. You're now wanting to disregard all of that and go for a little girl we haven't a chance in hell of getting? She's in Africa some where, there's no way!"

  "If there is a will - there is a way. I want that little girl - I want her, I love her already Derrick, I love her already, and I want her."

  Derrick stood with his mouth open in disbelief. His sons stood in various places staring at the frozen image and then looking at their mother as if she had really lost it.

  "Meribel, you're wanting the impossible."

  "Nothing is impossible, nothing! I don't care what we have to do to get her, I don't care, I want her, she belongs to us, she should be here. I'm her mother, you're her father, we're her family - make it happen Derrick, I beg you, make it happen. Pleeease, I need her!"

  He slowly closed his mouth, his eyes fixed on her, his mind trying to come up with the words needed to convince her - that what she was asking was as impossible as bringing back the baby they'd lost.

  "Meri, you're getting swept away sweetheart - I understand - but, we don't have the means to get her."

  "How do you know?"

  "How do I know? Meri, she's in Africa! She's been exploited and used to milk our emotions to send money, there's no telling where this charity even got the footage of that little girl."

  "I want her - surely there's some way to find out who she is, where she is, how we might adopt her?"

  Derrick's hands flew to his face, rubbing over his features in bewilderment.

  "Ask Shawn - he might know how!"

  Hearing that sent a hot-rod of anger through him. He did all possible to hide it, Meribel never noticed his reddening, her eyes were fixed on the huge teary eyes staring back at them.

  "Even Shawn cannot do the impossible!"

  Meribel's eyes went back to him, "Ask him anyway!"

  "No! Now I'm willing to go along with adoption - but we go through the normal channels. As for that little girl - she - is out of our reach."

  The look Meribel gave him at that moment, was a look almost filled with hatred - time seem to freeze, he held his breath, wondering what would fly from her lips - he expected her to blow any second.

  Meribel stood glaring, her breathing deep, trying to dismiss the thoughts in her mind, trying her utmost not to bring it back up why they'd lost her baby in the first place - she couldn't forget it and there were times when she wouldn't let him forget it either. At that moment, she was trying her hardest not to yell at him, that if he'd taken her fears surrounding Margaret Wheeler more seriously, maybe - she wouldn't have been able to run her over and kill her child - she fought with holding it back. Instead of blowing it up into his face like spewing out projectile vomit, she turned quickly and hurried out of the room.

  "Dad, I think you better ask Tio Shawn - because if you don't... you better sleep someplace else tonight." Luis warned, with Marcus turning his eyes from his mother's retreating back, to meet his father's, he nodded his head, "I'm with him - call Tio Shawn. Hey, at least she can't hold that against you. She can't argue you didn't call?" His boys suggested, after all, they'd been in the line of fire plenty enough and at this point, it was anything for a peaceful life.

  As much as he didn't want to involve Shawn, he knew to keep a bit of peace, he had little choice but to call him - otherwise, he would never hear the end of it, nor would he be able to sleep with both eyes closed. Fact was, at this moment and time, his wife gave little care to his feelings on the matter.

  Inhaling he strode passed his sons, easing up the stairs to their bedroom, pushing the door open to make eye contact with his sulking wife. Resigned to hell or doing what he hated having to do, he went to the phone, picked up the cordless - made his way beside her where he sat, and dialled his brother's phone number - his eyes on her the whole time.

  She fought not to smile, however his giving in brought it to the fore.

  "Hey Mundo, Shawn there?"

  "Yep, ya'll all right?" He asked in a good mood.

  "Yeah, thanks for asking." Derrick returned.

  "Hang on, I'll buzz'em."

  A moment later, "What's up?" Shawn asked immediately, standing in the kitchen against the counter, eating the remainder of his wife's salad and tuna tostadas. He knew he'd over fixed her plate, but he was trying to get her to eat more, she was watching what she ate and he didn't want her watching what she ate. She was concerned about getting too big and the baby getting too big, hearing her concerns, Shawn was not interested in hearing anything like that, not when it came to his son. At the present, she was going shopping to get Mama Jojo a few things and taking the girls with her for school items - before leaving, she'd gone to get changed. It was late summer soon to be fall, she was growing larger and always complaining about being hot and uncomfortable.

  "Let me ask you something, what are the chances of us adopting a child we've seen on TV, who is from a third world country, Africa to be exact - and not just any child, but one in particular that we've seen, what are the chances of that?" He repeated again, and then, "Do you know how we might go about it?"

  "Are you serious?"

  "My wife saw a little girl, who is or was-..."

  "Is! She is still alive - and I want her." Meribel corrected.

  "Did you hear that?" Derrick prompted.

  "Yes, loud and clear - whoa - okay, go ahead."

  "She saw a tiny little girl, starving, African, beautiful little thing - she wants her. She wants to adopt her, now I tried to tell her - that it would be impossible-..."

  "Not impossible - but the odds aren't on your side."

  "What did he say?" Meribel asked.

  Derrick turned to her, "He said, the odds aren't on our side."

  "Oh, but is it possible?"

  Shawn was grinning on the other end of the phone, he didn't miss that his brother had amended what he said, he could just imagine what he was up against.

  Derrick's gaze was soft on her, but he could see, this was not going to go away. "He said, that it wasn't impossible, but you do realize you must be realistic."

  "Ask him, ask him what mus' we do?" She went on anxiously.

  "You hear?" Derrick asked.

  "Yep, I heard. Get the channel or network it was played on, the program, what time it ran, and the name of the organization - listen
to as much as you can on location, and we'll go from there. The thing is Derrick, you're talking about a great amount of money - no adoption from there, even if you were successful in finding that particular little girl, is going to be cheap, I'm talking high end thousands."

  Derrick whistled, his face fell into his palm as he shook his head. "Okay - I'll let you know. Talk to you later."

  "Yeah, later."

  Clicking the phone off Derrick sat up and looked at his wife, into her eyes - "We can't afford it Meribel, we can't afford it."

  She gulped looking at him, her brow wrinkled with worry, "How do you know?"

  "Meri, we're talking about a child from a country that has been exploited for years upon years! You think those people are starving because they have no food?"

  "If there was food, why would they be starving?"

  "Because they are used to milk the west! Charity is a big business, not about handouts! They - those starving people and children - are some of the lasts means of wealth that is coming out of Africa for those hooked up to milk them! The ugly truth is, those that build up charity organizations do so for themselves. By the time the millions of dollars they gain reaches the faces we see, used to milk us, it might be one dollar - from millions. Their own rulers keep them this way in order to get rich off of the west, they get the bigger piece and give the scraps to those who are starving - if they allow them scraps!" He stated giving her a moment to absorb that and then added, "Those same leaders also charge massive fees to those looking to adopt - the red tape is endless. We don't have it Meri - we don't have it! So yes, we can adopt - but we must do so within our means, I'm sorry honey - that's the way it is." Derrick pressed, hoping she realized the truth of his words.

  Meri couldn't speak as her mind raced for a way to make it happen and as she forced herself to accept the loss of her unborn babe, she knew she had to force herself to accept that this too could not be. Turning from her husband she fell to their bed, face buried in her folded arms, fighting not to cry, but she couldn't hold it, "Why meeee, why meee? What did I doooo, what did I doooo..." she sobbed. Derrick felt that familiar lump form in his throat, and heated wash of guilt - leaning over her, rubbing her back, "Honey, if you wish to adopt - we can do it, we will do it - but it has to be done within our means, you understand? Do you?" He asked gently, stroking her hair.

  Unable to speak, she nodded that she understood.

  "Come here..." He beckoned her to turn to him, taking her into his arms, he promised, "We'll research it, and do all that is required to make it happen. You have my word..." He swore, nose buried deep in her neck, inhaling her clean spring scent, turning his lips aside, he gave her a kiss, nothing too much more than that, as once more, they were back to barely ever making love.

  Camp Daniels

  "Stop Shawn! Nooo - this is ridiculous, don't make me call Mama Jojo in here!" Sylvia fumed and threatened. Her husband was once more, getting on her nerves as her pouty lip and pinched brow showed.

  "Take it off then and put this on, like I said, that'll be that." Shawn insisted, refusing to budge. He'd just gotten off the phone with his brother to catch his wife heading out the door past him wearing a summer top that showed the entire length of her back, from her hairline all the way down to just above the crack of her rear, her lower back dimples could be seen. She had a very sexy back, too sexy to show off when he wasn't around, like now when she'd been about to leave to go shopping with Mama Jojo and the girls.

  "Are you crazy? As pregnant as I am Shawn, ain't no man out there interested in me! My back out or not."

  "Take that off - put this on." He persisted as if she'd just not spoken, one hand holding her arm, the other holding the blouse he preferred she wear.

  "You gettin' on my nerves Shawn - everything in my life is not up for you to control, like how I dress, what I wear...." her heat was rising, "...and if I don't take this off, put that one on, then what?" She dared to ask, crossing her arms over her breasts.

  They stood in their spacious bedroom by the wardrobe closet in a face off.

  "No shopping." He softly stated, looking her right in the eyes.

  "No shopping? My daddy's name is Lucas Henry Martin, and I assure you, when he was there to raise me, he did his best - I don't remember him passing me to you to continue where he left off." She glared at him for some type of reaction, such as, giving in. When he didn't move and continued to gaze down at her, holding her arm firmly, not tight, not painful, but firm, she huffed exhaling, "...you forget, I'm taking Mama Jojo for things she needs." She reminded him.

  "So I'll take her." was his reply.

  Sylvia stood gnashing her teeth.

  "Look, this shirt is nice and pretty cool enough, just as comfortable," he pointed out, "Man sees your back out, that much back - he'll start thinking things; rather, one thing for certain. You are my wife, mine..." He paused shaking his head no and then said, "... nope, change that blouse."

  "This is ridiculous - you need to be ashamed of yourself Shawn!"

  "You don't know me by now?" His voice was a low rumble gripping her from deep within. "Besides, I'm not the one trying to sneak out the house dressed like-..."

  "Like what?" She challenged him to finish what he was about to say.

  "Like this... too sexy for shopping." He finished.

  "Few men find pregnancy by another, sexy! I was not sneaking - I'm a grown woman! I cannot believe the mess I let you get away with, I must have lost my mind." She tried to work her arm loose.

  "You gonna change the blouse or not?" He asked firm and gentle at the some time.

  Because she did know him, she gave up, snatching the blouse from him, "You got some nerve, let's face it, you've shown all the world your business, haven't you?" She referred to his porn days, reaching back to unfasten the blouse she wore, "I don't need the stress, anything for a peaceful life," she muttered taking it off and tossing it to the bed, "...I just want you to know, that's - the only reason I'm changing it - not because you told me to," She grumbled, pulling the other one over her head, and continued "...but because I don't feel like fighting with you about it."

  "Hey, works for me, if it works for you." He mumbled, standing to make sure she didn't make a last moment switch back to the other one to win the battle against him. He reached over picking it up from the bed, "I'll hang this one up for you, better hurry, Mama Jojo and the girls are out in that heat waiting on you."

  "They wouldn't be waiting in no heat had you let me go on about my business!" She snapped stomping for the bedroom door.

  Shawn stood with his head back, eyes angled down his nose, waiting until the coast was clear, took another look at the blouse he held and then ripped it apart carrying it with him to drop into the garbage disposal. Pregnant or not, she wouldn't be wearing that shirt, no way in hell - his thoughts carried on from there. He knew he should probably chill with her, because he could tell he was irritating her, but then, what else was new? Ever since his discovery that Armundo still may be alive, he was acting more aggressive than usual. It seemed that because he knew of his possible existence, the very air that he breathed was highly charged with sniffing him out, as if they were both animals.

  Shawn felt like an animal - angry, aggressive, on guard and ready to charge at any moment.

  He couldn't explain why, nor get control of it, it simply filled him to the brim. Causing in him intense feelings of insecurity because he knew how things had ended between them. Before Armundo's so called accident, Sylvia had been growing closer to him as it seemed he was getting better. Shawn felt his face burn from hatred. While Crystal and Mundo had no feelings towards their biological father, that did him little good, as he was married to their mother... or ... was he?

  The thought alone pissed him off, making him feel a need to growl or roar out-loud, but doing so would make all of them think he was crazy and he was, it was eating him alive. It was interfering in his concentration, in his ability to focus on work, because his mind kept drifting off into the, wh
at if!

  It frightened him that Sylvia might feel obligated to go back to him. Then he remembered that day-mare she'd had a while back - about Armundo returning and claiming her. She'd cried out and was shaking in fear. Recalling that, made him feel somewhat better, and a bit ashamed of the way he was acting with her at times - ultra possessive as if to constantly remind her, that she was his, and his alone. She no doubt thought him a nut.

  Even Mama Jojo had gone on her side defending her against him. She knew him, knew that he was keeping something to himself and she'd tried to get him to spill it - spill what was going on with him to make him act such a fool! As she'd put it. She'd stood witness to him sometimes snapping at Sylvia, answering her with sarcasm while bringing Armundo up in his retorts, saying to Sylvia,

  "Oh you poor thing, what - wish you had Armundo back?"

  For Sylvia to turn away, shaking her head to avoid an argument as Mama Jojo stood eyeballing him to say, "You just actin' clean outside yo'self! You ain't like this and if you are, I'm not liken it much. No young man, not at all. You bes' go somewhere an' come back wit' yo'good sense set straight!"

  Standing before Mama Jojo, he could not defend his actions, shifting his weight, sulking, looking mulish, he turned glancing the way his wife had gone, "Go'on then explain yourself, if not to me, then sho'nuff to her."

  This was Mama Jojo correcting him.

  Doing as he was told, he made his way through the house to find his wife, trying to think of a way to explain himself without having to tell her the truth. The lame tale he gave her was that it was about work, the new studio. She wasn't buying it, and pressed to know what was really wrong.

  Because he wouldn't change it, she became quiet and suspicious of him. His actions this day, wasn't helping his case. Simply put it was driving him insane this whole situation surrounding Armundo and David. Placing bugging devices in Armundo's mother's home and getting the recordings back was a good plan but impossible; he didn't have the means, resources or finance for such an operation. He nor Dennis could afford the time, or suspicion from their wives to do it themselves - considering how long it could take until something concrete connected to Armundo happened. His hell, his struggle was between two solutions, one - to let it go, or two - to ask Deidre for money. Money, to find someone he could bribe into digging up Armundo's coffin and getting enough of his tissue to do a DNA test on it, proving his identity. Then he would have to get a hold of a dna source of one or the other - that would mean a close family member. For David, he was certain he could get that from Lucas and Lydia. If it matched, that would mean David was buried in Armundo's grave, if it did not.