Thug Matrimony

by Wahida Clark

  “Give Don Alexjandro my regards. And thank him for the very generous wedding gifts. And please, I mean no disrespect. Please get to the heart of the matter and answer the million-dollar question. What brings you to my home? Why do you take pictures of me and my family and send them to my home? What have I done to deserve such disrespect? If Don Alexjandro needed me, all he had to do was call.” Kaylin wanted some answers and was obviously pissed off.

  “The don knows that, Kaylin. That’s why he sent me. You know the don. The pictures were just a … reminder. No big thing. You understand, Kaylin?”

  “No, I don’t understand. I received threats, and why? When all—”

  Don Carlos held up his hand in protest, interrupting Kaylin. “It’s nothing, Kaylin. No need to be alarmed. Just a friendly reminder. And you know we don’t deliver threats, we deliver bodies.” He burst into that signature laugh again.

  Don Carlos quickly turned serious. “We have everyone praying to the saints for Trae’s immediate recovery. He is a very good man. Loyal just like you. That is hard to find these days, even amongst family. Again, that is why I’m here. Don Alexjandro needs a huge favor.”

  “We’re not in the game anymore, Don Carlos. We’re trying to be good businessmen and even better family men. No disrespect, but do you understand?”

  “Of course. Of course. But let me remind you that it was Don Alexjandro who made it possible for you to be legit businessmen and good family men. It was Don Alexjandro, not your attorneys, not your money, who got you out of Mexico with your lives and your freedom. You have no prison sentence, no parole, no nothing. You are both free to live life. You understand?” Don Carlos spat. “And you have gold, which you took from one of our people. You didn’t get permission. We understand that things got crazy and you had to do what you had to do, no? But lucky the fat fuck was no good. He was bad for business, family or not. So with everything comes a price. You understand, Kaylin?”

  Kaylin didn’t respond. He allowed a huge sigh to escape his lungs.

  “Good.” Don Carlos pulled out a pipe filled with rich strawberry tobacco and lit it. He closed his eyes as he put his lips around the ivory pipe and pulled. “Now … this is good.” He held it out for Kaylin, who declined. He allowed the rich smoke to ease through his lungs. “Smells heavenly, doesn’t it?”

  “Smells rich,” Kaylin had to agree.

  “I told my wife, Graciela, that when I die, bury me with my pipe and fill it up.” He then locked eyes with Kaylin. “We need a matter handled. Don Alexjandro’s unloyal nephew, Mickey Reyes. He’s tarnishing the family’s reputation. It’s no good for business. He’s bringing too much attention our way. The don would appreciate it if you would handle this matter for him. He also knows about your brother, who is doing twenty-seven years in state prison. You know the don always pays his debts.”

  “I know the don looks out for his own. But you do understand that we are out. We fulfilled our obligations. Our work is over, it’s behind us. Tell the don if he wants the gold we jacked, he can have it, but we are out.”

  Don Carlos took another pull from his pipe, closed his eyes, savored it. “Don Alexjandro is very proud of both of you. He treated you like sons. We need this taken care of.” He leaned up to the edge of the seat and lowered his voice. “Whose life is worth more to you? That of you and your family or a low-life disgrace like Mickey Reyes? I trust you will make the right decision.”

  The limo slowed down and then eased to a stop. No words were needed as Kaylin jumped out and flagged down a taxi.

  That release of tension Tasha had earlier obviously did her some good. She had heard somewhere that crying heals the soul. Well, she was sleeping like a baby, that is until she felt something in the palm of her hand. When she looked up at Trae his eyes were open and he was writing letters in her hand. She had one hand over her chest, and her mouth was wide open. She was in shock. He was writing Tasha, I luv u. The tears fell down her cheeks as she began to shake uncontrollably. He started pointing to the tubes coming out of his nose and mouth. Tasha, still in shock, pressed the nurse station button.

  “Is everything all right, Mrs. Macklin?” the voice over the intercom asked. When she didn’t get a response, she said, “I’ll be right there.”

  When the nurse came into the room Tasha was standing there looking down at Trae in tears. Trae was looking at her and wouldn’t let her hand go. She ducked back out of the room and yelled, “Get Dr. Peters, stat!”

  “Mr. Macklin, glad you decided to join us,” she beamed. She turned on the light and proceeded to get his vitals. “Can you hear me? Blink your eyes twice if you can.” He blinked twice. “Good, Dr. Peters is on his way.” He raised his hand slowly and pointed to the tubes. “Dr. Peters will be here shortly. I know they are very uncomfortable, but bear with us for a short while, okay?”

  She turned to Tasha. “Mrs. Macklin, are you okay?” Tasha nodded up and down and leaned over on Trae’s shoulder. “I love you so much. Oh, God, thank you so much. Oh, baby.” She hugged him.

  “Mr. Macklin, you are a very lucky man. Your wife has shown incredible strength. Your vitals are stable. I’ll be right back.”

  “Baby, do you have any idea how long you’ve been here?” He slowly shook his head no. “Were you aware of my being here and talking to you?” He slowly nodded yes.

  “Mr. Macklin. Mrs. Macklin.” Dr. Peters nodded towards Tasha. He was a small-framed black man who reminded her of the butler on the Fresh Prince.

  He was accompanied by an Indian female, Dr. Gupta. “Mrs. Macklin, Mr. Macklin.” She spoke in a thick accent.

  “Can you hear me, Mr. Macklin?” Dr. Peters asked. Trae nodded yes. Dr. Peters picked up Trae’s chart and began to read it.

  Dr. Gupta came around to where Tasha was. She tried to break away from Trae’s grip but he wouldn’t let her go. Dr. Gupta smiled at the gesture.

  Trae pointed once again at the tubes. Dr. Peters turned off the ventilator and respirator. “I can’t remove the tubes, the anesthesiologist has to remove them. I’ll have the nurse page him.”

  Trae had to release Tasha’s hand in order for the doctor to complete his examination. Dr. Gupta was talking into her minirecorder, taking notes as Dr. Peters administered the exam. “Blink if you are in pain.” He pointed to the tubes. Both doctors smiled. Dr. Peters took his vitals, checked his pupils and ears. Dr. Gupta helped turn him over on his side so that he could examine his spine. He stuck a special pin in it. “Blink twice at Dr. Gupta if you can feel it.” He blinked twice. “Good.” They placed him on his back. Dr. Peters stuck the pin in both legs. Trae couldn’t feel the pin penetrate his legs. He shook his head no. “Don’t worry about your legs. In a day or two, you’ll get the sensation back. I was mainly concerned about your spine. But that’s fine. If the sensation doesn’t return in your legs, we’ll do further testing.”

  Tasha was still shaken as she picked up the phone and called his parents. “Nana, it’s me. He’s up. Oh God, he’s up.” She swiped at the tears for the hundredth time. Apparently Nana was waking up Mr. Macklin since it was three thirty in the morning. She could hear Nana in the background crying and praising God.

  “Tasha, are you still there?” Mr. Macklin grabbed the phone.

  “I’m here. He’s up. The doctors are examining him now.”

  “Thank you, Lord.” Mr. Macklin sounded as if a huge burden had been lifted off his shoulders. “What is he doing? What is he saying? Tell him we love him and we knew he would come back to us.”

  “He wants the tubes out of him. He can’t talk. He’s been nodding up and down, blinking, and writing in my hands. He’s been squeezing my hands.” She was crying once again.

  “Oh, glory be to God. We’ll be up there first thing in the morning. Tell my son that, okay?”

  “I will, Pop-Pop.” She disconnected the call and stood watching as the doctors continued to probe, prod, press, and examine.

  She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer; then she called Kaylin
and told him the good news. He said he would spread the word and would be up first thing tomorrow.

  “Okay, Mrs. Macklin. He appears to be in stable condition. In layman’s terms, for someone who’s been in a coma for the last three months, he’s doing pretty darn good. Even though he has no energy, which is normal, make sure he stays put. Don’t you dare try to get up.” He glared at Trae. “I will page the anesthesiologist and get these tubes out and then I’ll be back.”

  He patted Trae on his shoulder and they left.

  Tasha rushed to his side, fluffed up his pillow, and straightened out his bedding. She grabbed his hand and began smiling through the tears. “I love you, baby. And thank you for coming back to us. I knew you would. Nana and Pop-Pop said they love you more than anything and that they’ll be up in the morning.” She kissed him on the cheek. “The boys are fine, getting bigger and talking up a storm. I can’t wait for you to see them.” He placed his hand on her stomach, which caused her to smile. “Do you remember what I told you we are having?” He nodded a slow yes. “What did I say we were gonna name him?” He drew the letters C-a-l-i-p-h in her palm. “Oh my God!” she gasped. “You really could hear me. Oh my God!”

  A young blond Caucasian lady came in with a name tag that read DR. KIM WHITE, ANESTHESIOLOGIST. “Hello, I’m Dr. White,” she said to Tasha. “I’m here to remove those irritating tubes.”

  “I’m Tasha Macklin and this is my husband, Trae. And, Dr. White, he’s ready for them to come out.”

  Dr. White smiled at Trae. “They’re horrible, aren’t they?” She put on a pair of surgical gloves and picked up his chart, looked it over, and placed it back down. “This will be uncomfortable, Mr. Macklin. I’ll take out the one in your nose first.” She pointed to the tube in his nose. “No more uncomfortable than what you’ve been experiencing, right?” She talked him through it, as it slid out effortlessly. When she removed the tubes from his throat a blob of green pea-soup-looking bile came out with the tubes. It splashed Tasha’s neck and cheek.

  “Oh my!” Tasha squealed. “Gross.”

  “Sorry about that,” Dr. White apologized. “I didn’t think it would be that bad.”

  Tasha giggled as she headed for the bathroom to wipe it up.

  “That’s better, isn’t it?”

  Trae’s gaze was fixed on the bathroom door where his wife disappeared. Dr. White was packing up her equipment when Tasha came out of the restroom.

  “What was that?” Tasha wanted to know.

  “Mainly drainage and it’s backed up. It’s also mucus. I’ll page Dr. Peters and let him know that my work is done here. His throat will be sore, but after a couple of days it will heal. I would suggest that he doesn’t try to speak. Take care, Mr. Macklin.” She said it as if he were deaf. And then she was out the door.

  Tasha had her husband back.

  Chapter 15

  Tasha was feeling totally rejuvenated. She was feeling as if her life was starting all over, that she could now go back to living. Life was great once again.

  Even though her body was extremely tired, she was up at 6:00 a.m. giving Trae a sponge bath, shave, manicure, and pedicure. She was tired and happy at the same time. He still wasn’t talking, but was now writing his words on paper.

  By eight she had him fresh and clean, all propped up, ready to see the family.

  She had arranged it so that when his parents came she was going to go home, take a nice hot bath, get her hair done, and then go pick up the twins from her sister’s house.

  By eight thirty his parents were bursting through the door, both of them so glad to see their only child, they were literally smothering him. Mrs. Macklin stopped crying long enough to say a prayer. Tasha stepped back to allow them time with their son, and it did her heart good to see it. She slipped out to the nurses’ station to let them know she would be back by two and to call her if they needed her. She then went back into the room and debriefed his parents as to the doctor’s comments upon examination. She also relayed what was to be expected of his recovery.

  “Baby.” She kissed him gently on the lips. “I’m going to go to the apartment, take a bath, and then go and get this knotty hair of mine done. After that I’ll go pick up the boys and then I’ll be back here. Okay?” She ran her fingers along his jaw. “I love you and I’ve missed you so much. I told the nurses to call me if they need me. But you should be fine with your parents,” she teased.

  He nodded yes as he ran his hands over her stomach. When the baby kicked he smiled.

  “Tasha, you sure you don’t want to take the whole day off? Maybe get some much-needed rest and relaxation?” Mr. Macklin asked but was really making a suggestion.

  “No, Pop-Pop, I’ll be fine. Spend some time with your son. I’ll be back around two. That’s enough rest for me. Pop-Pop, I feel … like this is the very first day of a wonderful life. My husband came back to me. My family is back. I feel like doing cartwheels.” She giggled. “That wouldn’t be good, though, would it?” Trae smiled and nodded.

  “Girl, don’t be doing nothing stupid,” Nana scolded.

  “I won’t, Nana. I said I felt like doing cartwheels, not I’m going to do some.” She went over to Nana and kissed her on the cheek and then kissed Mr. Macklin, and then she was gone.

  Phillip Johnson and Dougie drove to Newark’s Liberty International Airport to pick up Snake. They had gotten through all of the formalities during the course of several lengthy telephone conversations. Phillip circled around the airport until he saw Dougie and his old partner in crime flagging him down. The police were right behind him, giving out tickets, so Snake hurriedly threw his garment bag onto the backseat and jumped in behind it while Dougie jumped in the front. Phillip pulled off.

  “Man, what’s up with the eye patch?”

  “Damn, Phillip, no hello, how was your flight, how’s the family?” Snake joked.

  “Nigga, I talked to yo’ fake, wannabe, pimp ass this morning, two times yesterday, and once before that. How many times you want me to ask the same ole shit? This is a business trip, not a high school reunion,” Phillip snapped.

  Snake tapped Dougie on his shoulder. “What the fuck does my eye patch have to do with business? How do you put up with this control freak? It’s always business with him. I guess that’s why yo’ paper so long, right?” Snake teased.

  “And you know this, mannnn!” Phillip joked back.

  “I’m feelin’ this ride, man. A got damn Bentley Continental! This bitch goes up to 195 miles a hour. Damn, nigga! You really have come up. So what was so urgent that you had to see me today? I had other shit to do.”

  “Nigga, don’t try to skip the subject. What happened to your eye? I doubt if it’s a fashion statement.”

  “I got hit in it, man. It’s completely damaged. I only have about ten percent vision in it and it’s very sensitive to light, even sunlight. So that’s why I keep it covered. But it’s cool, the bitches still like it.”

  “I’m sure they do.”

  “So what’s up?”

  “Several things. You and I have the same people and issues in common. A nigga and a bitch that’s in our way.”

  “Oh, really?” Snake’s interest was piqued. “Who?”

  “Kaylin.”

  “Kaylin?” To say that Snake was surprised was an understatement.

  “Yeah, you heard me right. Small fuckin’ world, ain’t it?”

  “Well, I’ll be damned. What? He fuckin’ your woman too?”

  “No but he’s fuckin’ with my paper and that’s not as bad but worse. He pulled this bitch I signed, and I got major attitude.”

  “So what does this have to do with me?”

  “You owe me a favor, if my memory serves me right. And I’m a very public figure now. I can’t be getting my hands dirty.”

  “I can’t get mine dirty either, shit. I’m a pimp, nigga!”

  “Yeah, and a broke pimp at that who needs major stacks. ‘Cause according to Uncle Steve you only got three hoes and them bitc
hes lookin’ for a job.”

  “Ha, ha, ha. You scary punk muthafucka, you gots to remind me to fuck you up like a broke pimp would do! So watch yo’ mouth. Uncle Steve don’t know what the fuck I got,” Snake snapped.

  “Anyway, so what about the favor you owe?” Phillip glared back at him through the rearview mirror.

  Snake didn’t reply at first. He mumbled under his breath and shot glances at Phillip and Dougie. “What the fuck you need done? I know you got niggas to handle your dirty work. What the fuck, P?”

  “Man, this is a special job. I don’t feel right or see myself giving it to any ole joe blow or else I would have been done it. This is too important. And I can’t be linked to this shit in no kinda way. Shit, nigga, you do owe me. What, I gotta throw in sumthin extra? Damn, nigga, what you need? Cash, a coupla birds, what?”

  “What you need done, man?” Snake asked reluctantly.

  “Can you believe this nigga?” Phillip asked Dougie.

  “I told you he was going to want sumthin,” Dougie stated matter-of-factly.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. You sure called it,” Phillip told him.

  “Oh, so now y’all niggas gonna just sit there and talk about me like I ain’t even here?”

  Phillip pulled into JE’s, a diner on Halsey Street in Newark. “Let’s talk this shit over some grub.” He pulled into a parking spot and the three men poured out of the ‘07 Bentley convertible. He gave Snake a brotherly hug. “Even though you trippin’ it’s good to see you, man. And it was real good talking to Uncle Steve. That nigga takin’ pimpin’ and hustlin’ to the grave. I bet you, him and Dino still treat yo’ ass like a snot-nose punk, don’t they?”

  “Hell yeah. They still getting on my nerves thirty years later.”

  Dougie and Phillip laughed as they made it inside the crowded diner, bypassed the customers in line, placed their orders, and found them a booth.