Piece Keeper

by Antwan Floyd Sr.

  “And that means what?”

  “Well according to the geeks they say it is synonymous with a material that strap-ons are made out of.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And if you remember from Teresa’s report she was attacked with a strap on.”

  “Okay… but what are we doing here like this? Where’s the warrant? Why does it look like a B&E?”

  Just as Waeltz held up the warrant Foster stormed into the room wedging herself in between Waeltz and Black. “What the hell is this?” she yelled as she snatched the paper from Waeltz’s hand.

  “A warrant to search the premises,” Waeltz responded as he pushed her to the side and made his way towards the door.

  “On what grounds?” she demanded as she took up the rear following behind Black as they all headed outside. By this point the neighbors were outside watching.

  “Probable cause… looking for, and found, evidence that will indicate you in the rape of Teresa Prince.”

  “The hell you did!” she screamed staring at the box.

  Waeltz held the box in the air and smiled. She balled the warrant up and tossed it on the ground. She flipped the bird to Waeltz and Black, grabbed her crouch, turned, and then stormed in her house slamming the door closed.

  “That is one pissed dude!” Waeltz said laughing as he watched Black pick up the balled up piece of paper and unfold it.

  He glanced over the paper and looked to Waeltz un-believingly. “This is a warrant for drugs.”

  “So?”

  “It’s not even for this address.”

  “A warrant is a warrant.”

  “It’s dated six months ago with someone else’s name on it.”

  Waeltz hunched his shoulders as Black shoved the paper into his chest. Waeltz watched it hit the ground. “Didn’t want to take the chance of her getting rid of evidence while I chased down a judge for a warrant.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me right? Tell me you didn’t just make me an accessory after the fact.”

  “Don’t worry, Love. This case is a slam dunk. I’ve gotten convictions with less,”

  he said as he raised the strap-on from the box and dangled in the air. “That look like blood to you?” Waeltz asked as he held it closer to Black’s face.

  Black turned and headed for his vehicle.

  “Love, wait! We need to get our stories straight.”

  Black stopped and turned towards Waeltz angrily. Spit flew as he spoke. “Stories straight? You’re joking right? I was never here and I don’t want to hear about anything you may or may not have obtained from Officer Foster’s home.”

  “Don’t get high and moral on me now, Mr. Chi-Raq! I know how y’all get down in the city. It’s been that way for years from Capone to the Daley’s to Blagojevich to Jessie Jackson Jr. and Mr. Barrack Hussein…right down to Yes-I- Can Obama himself.”

  Did he want to get in a verbal spat with Waeltz over the blatant disrespectful and racist overtone he made with his statement or just show him how they really got down in Chi-Raq as he put it and break his nose? He chose neither. “I believe in the law and due process. I was sworn to up-hold it. I thought you were a man that possibly held similar values. What’s done in the dark will soon come to light.”

  “Yeah, yeah… I know. And what goes up must come down. Keep your clichés. I close cases.”

  Black snatched his door open, got in, slammed the door closed, and turned the engine on as he rolled down the window and stuck his head out. “Not with me, not in this way. And for your information I worked on the Cain campaign asshole!” he blurted out before putting the truck in drive and pulling off.

  ***

  Chapter Nine

  The night was calm and soothing. Black and Morena enjoyed the melodic sounds of calypso. Morena lay in his arms on the back yard deck listening to Harry Belafonte’s ‘Jamaica Farwell’. A week had gone by and the D.A. still hadn’t decided if she would file charges against the chief, Foster, and Hunter. He was getting pressure from back home to wrap this case up and get back to Chicago. Cases were piling up and he was one of the best D.A.s in the state. He took a sip of the strawberry daiquiri Morena whipped up for them. Truth was he was ready to put all of this behind him as well; win, lose, or draw, something needed to happen. A tap on the sliding door took him out of his thoughts. He raised himself slightly from the beach chair and peered over Morena’s shoulder to look behind them. He nodded his head. Teresa smiled, slid the door open, and stepped outside.

  “Hey guys,” she said as she copped a squat in a chair next to the couple. She still hadn’t moved back into her apartment.

  “Hey, girl. You have fun tonight?” Morena asked referring to her night out with James. They had been seeing more of one another since the night he’d stayed up with her all night talking.

  “Yeah, it was cool,” she answered trying desperately to fight back her smile.

  “Just cool, huh?”

  “Yeah, it was aight.”

  Morena laughed. “Girl, you are a horrible liar.”

  Black remained silent as he sipped his drink. He was astonished that the two were getting along so well. He still didn’t like the idea of Teresa being with James but he couldn’t tell her that, especially not in front of Morena. He wondered if it was jealousy. Shaking the thought off, he shifted his position altering Morena’s. She frowned and nudged Black in his ribs with her elbow.

  “Be still,” Morena complained.

  “I am still. Shit. Y’all can carry that in the house. You killing my vibe with that yammering. Me and Belafonte on some relaxing shit out here.”

  The women looked at one another with their mouths open in shock then looked to him and laughed. Morena stood, grabbed the pitcher of daiquiri, and began walking towards the house. Teresa followed behind still laughing.

  “You hear that, girl? Kill his vibe? I keep telling him he ain’t 19 no more… trying to sound hip. Girl, he is crazy,” Morena said laughing.

  Teresa shook her head thinking the same thing.

  Black sat smiling as he watched the two women disappear. The circumstances behind the three of them being together was horrible but he had to admit that he liked the way it felt and he would enjoy it even if it was only temporary. He knew eventually it would end one way or another.

  ***

  Black awoke with a hangover. His head was banging, mouth was dry, and stomach was growling. 8 A.M. It was later than he usually woke up. He rolled over in bed to find that he was lying alone. He sat up and looked around the room. The bathroom door was open and the light was off. He grudgingly climbed from bed and went through his morning regiment of working out; push-ups and sit-ups. He did a hundred of each in half the time he normally would have then took a shower and was dressed in record time. Exiting his room he listened to see if he could hear Morena and Teresa talking. The house was silent minus the sound of his steps across the carpet. Pausing at Teresa’s room he looked at his watch. It was almost 9 A.M. Pressing his ear against her door he listened. He was typically gone by this time so he had no idea what time she got up and started moving around. After listening for several seconds and hearing nothing he figured she was either still asleep or gone. He continued down the stairs and out of the house.

  He cruised towards his office in the truck tuning the dial to channel 126 on Sirius XM’s Urban View station. He caught the middle of the discussion about the events in Ferguson. Ferguson Missouri, he thought. The more things change the more they stay the same. It was going into well over a week of civil unrest for the small town. Protests had begun after an 18 year old boy was gunned down by an officer and police moved in military style with flash grenades and tanks. The guests on the show, politicians and a former police chief, were giving their perspectives on the situation. Black half listened as he drove. Thoughts of his own personal drama in regards to the crooked police filled his head. He did not care. His faith would not waiver. Although it was fractured the system was not broken. A fracture can always heal. Things w
ould get better. He would do his part to see to that. He slammed on his brakes and they screeched as he came to an abrupt stop. It was too late. He had gone through a red light causing him to bump into a man crossing the street. He instinctively looked in his rearview mirror. Seeing no cars behind him he shifted into park and got out of the truck. Before he made it to the front of the truck to help him, the man was back on his feet. Although he walked with a limp he was moving.

  “You alright. Sir?” he asked the man.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  Black helped him to the sidewalk. “Don’t I know you?” He sized the man up trying to recollect where he’d seen him before.

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “I’m sorry. My mind was someplace else. Can I offer you a few dollars for the trouble?” Black removed his wallet, thumbed through some bills, and then pulled out a hundred dollar bill. He extended it to the man.

  The man pushed his hand back. “Yes, you can offer me two things and cash is not necessarily one of them.”

  Black stepped back staring at the stranger skeptically. “And what would that be, uh…..what’s your name?”

  “Brown. Everyone calls me Brown,” the man said as he extended his hand for a handshake.

  Black took the man’s hand into his and shook it firmly. “Black. Call me Black.”

  “No shit, Black?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well I’ll be. Black and Brown. Ain’t we a pair?”

  Black laughed with the homeless man. “Yes, sir, we are. So tell me what is it that I can do for you?”

  “Lunch.”

  “Yes! Lunch is on me.” He offered the man the cash again. “Do whatever you like with the money.”

  “No,” Brown said shaking his head. “Me, you… lunch right now. You treat. Those are the two things you can do for me. Spring for lunch and do me the honor of some good conversation over a light meal.”

  “I don’t have time for this. This morning I have to get to work.”

  “No time?”

  “Sorry.”

  “I understand. Enjoy your day counselor and start paying more attention to them lights.”

  Brown began walking in the other direction.

  Black watched as he limped away. The dusty old man hadn’t even taken the money. Black rubbed his hand across his freshly shaven head. Cars were beginning to line up blowing their horns impatiently behind his car, waiting to get past as he was blocking traffic on the one way street. He climbed back into his truck, shifted in drive, and pulled off. He watched in his rearview as Brown turned the corner out of his sight. He sped up as he drove around the corner, down the block, and then turned another corner before coming to a screeching stop. He smiled as the old man threw his hands on the hood to brace himself as the truck stopped in front of him.

  “You trying to hit me, boy?” Brown yelled as he limped towards the driver’s side.

  Black rolled the window down. “Get in! Let’s go eat.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Brown said as he made his way to the passenger side. He was in and buckled up in seconds. Black accelerated the gas pedal and they were off.

  ***

  She couldn’t have written a better scenario for a love story if she wanted to. She wore a low cut white sundress and no shoes with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. He wore a short sleeve collared white Banana Republic button up with the top two buttons left undone. She stole glimpses at the sweat glistening from his muscular chest. Her eyes roamed down to his white khaki shorts and strong legs matching his upper body. They walked arm in arm as he carried her sandals. It was funny how things turned out, she thought as they walked to the outside dining area at the Wildcat Creek Winery in Lafayette Indiana. It was an hour’s drive from Illinois. It was nice what he was doing; getting her away and taking her mind off of the drama that was going on. She didn’t know if it was his intention or not but the afternoon was very romantic. She hadn’t felt this good in a really long time.

  The wind blew as the couple sat at the wooden picnic table underneath the wooden pillars. The smell of freshly mowed grass made Teresa feel good. The waitress came and James took the initiative by ordering for the both of them. He ordered two bottles of wine, choosing the Cayuga White and a bottle of the Prophet's Rock Red. He also ordered crackers and Camembert and a Burrata cheese. Teresa smiled as she stared into his eyes from across the table.

  He studied her expression. “What’s funny?” he asked as he took her hands into his.

  He noticed that she didn’t jump this time or pull away. He started to mention it but didn’t know how she may react and he didn’t want to ruin the mood.

  “Nothing.” She scrunched her shoulders. “Just happy I suppose.”

  He smiled back. “Happy is good.”

  She placed her feet on top of his crouch underneath the table. He instantly became erect. She laughed. “Feels like someone else is happy as well.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “He’s good too.”

  She laughed aloud. “Is he now?”

  “I ain’t saying a word.”

  The waitress returned with their order. The couple exchanged glances yet neither said a word as she placed their snack and wine on the table.

  “Is there a specific wine you’d prefer to sample first?” the waitress asked as she pointed at the two bottles placed on the table.

  “Could you open both please and pour one in each glass?” James asked. “We’ll sample both if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course, sir,” she replied as she began un-corking the bottles and pouring the wine. After both of the glasses of wine were poured she was off.

  The couple slowly sipped their wine. Teresa, with her feet still in James’s lap, playfully ran her foot up and down his thigh as she spread Camembert across a cracker. She leaned across the table and fed it to James. She laughed merrily.

  He laughed. “There you go again… that laugh.”

  She batted her eyes in a mischievous manner. “What?”

  He laughed again wagging his finger. “Yeah you… what is it?”

  “Nothing… it’s just that you almost took my finger off when you bit into that cracker. Hungry tail was ‘bout to take the finger and all.”

  He let out a boisterous laugh. “I did not.”

  “Shoot… I don’t know, man. Let me count.” She held up her hand and began counting her fingers. “One, two, three, and four…and one thumb.”

  “There you go,” he said playfully waving her off.

  “Ahh, her hurt him feelings?”

  “Quite to the contrary, Ms. Comedian. You have healed them.”

  She smiled back flirtatiously and he took a sip from his glass. They both became silent as they were enthralled into a seductive stare down. Teresa found James’ glare so intense that she was the first to break from the stare. She looked down at the table feeling her soul shimmer. He did something to her that she didn’t expect. She’d seen this look before. It was beyond the lustful, passion filled stare down that she’d gotten from men from the time she was younger. This look was different. She’d seen it only once in her life and it came from Black. He loved her. Love, she thought. She didn’t want to love. Career first, log in some vacation time and travel to Paris or Greece, get wild… maybe live out a sexual fantasy or two, then when she met the right man, and only then, would she fall in love. She knew it was wrong. She swallowed the saliva that was forming in her mouth, took a sip of wine, squeezed James’ hands tighter, and then returned her glance back to his. It was almost too late. She loved him too.

  ***

  Black and his new friend Brown sat in the restaurant eating. Black ordered a chicken salad while Brown had smothered chicken, mac and cheese, greens and cornbread. Brown tore into the food like a wild jackal on a rabbit. Black sipped his iced tea and ate his salad but not as quickly as Brown rather at a steady pace. He was mindful that he still needed to get back to the office. He felt bad about hitting the old man and felt he needed
to make amends.

  “What do you want to talk about Brown?” he asked the older gentleman.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well it has to be something.”

  “Well…”

  “Yeah?”

  “I been wanting to know how that lady was doing.”

  “You mean Ms. Prince?” Black asked raising his eyebrow.

  “Is that her name? I just call her ma’am.”

  Black sat his fork on the plate, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and sat it on the table. “How do you know Ms. Prince?”

  “She was always nice to me. One of the only ones really. She didn’t run me away or turn her nose up at me. We came here once or twice for lunch. Yeah… she’s a real nice lady. Are you going to lock them police up that did this to her? I don’t like police much. A lot of ‘em more crooked than the crooks they lock up.”

  Black laughed. “You’re right, Brown. A lot of them are and I am trying my best to make sure that justice prevails.”

  “It’s me. It’s Brown, baby!” Brown said pointing both thumbs at himself. “Don’t give me that slick courtroom talk. Shoot it to me straight, baby. If you gonna lock ‘em up say you gonna lock ‘em up. Punk muthas… put ‘em up under the jail!”

  Black leaned back in his seat and watched Brown eat and mumble to himself angrily. “Ms. Prince must really mean a lot to you.”

  “I hate punk ass bullies and I hate people who fuck over good people. Ms. Prince… she good people.”

  Black smiled. “Yes she is. She is good people. And thank you, Brown.”

  “For what? I didn’t do nothing but get hit by a car.” Brown burst into a fit of laughter. As he laughed his mouth opened wide. Black tried not to cringe looking into his jagged mouth filled with half chewed food.

  Black chuckled. “For being a good friend to Teresa and having lunch with me today.”