The Honey Well

by Gloria Mallette

  “Let’s do it,” Big Walt said, putting his hand on his gun.

  The two men exchanged worried glances. The Hammer took a menacing step forward. The two men quickly fell back and then stepped aside.

  Big Walt and The Hammer each pulled open one of the double doors and stepped inside the vestibule. Ace let Esther and Arnell pass before he took up the rear. It was not difficult to locate the chapel in which Tony’s service was held—it was the one where a sea of mourners all dressed in black spilled over into the hall. The service was well under way and was, in fact, about to end. Tony’s casket was being opened for final viewing. Big Walt and The Hammer didn’t stop walking. Arnell tried to hold Esther fast, but Esther pulled Arnell along as she followed Big Walt and The Hammer straight down the aisle toward Tony. Every head turned as Esther’s tight little entourage paraded down the aisle. Gasps of surprise rose throughout the chapel and a chorus of hushed whispers floated on the air.

  Arnell felt faint. “Oh, God.” She glimpsed Esther’s stoic profile. Esther’s head was held high, her jaw set, her eyes saw no one but Tony.

  Twenty feet from the casket, Sal leaped out of his chair at the front of the chapel. The sheer look of outrage on his face chilled Arnell.

  Sal screamed at Esther, “Uscire!—Get out! You are not welcome here.” Others around Sal began to stand.

  Arnell watched in horror as Sal rushed up the aisle toward them.

  “Get the fuck out of here!”

  Big Walt and The Hammer barreled through Sal, knocking him aside. Sal quickly regained his footing and rushed at Esther. Big Walt turned and grabbed Sal up by the lapels, just as Tony had done years before. And just as Sal couldn’t do then with Tony, Sal couldn’t free himself of Big Walt’s pit bull–like hold.

  The priest stepped forward. “Fermarlo! Fermarlo! Fare non Tony disonori in questa maniera!—Stop it! Stop it! Don’t dishonor Tony in this way!”

  No one seemed to hear the priest.

  “Take your filthy black hands off me!”

  “I’m gonna give you that, boy, because my hands are black,” Big Walt said, “but you best calm your white ass down unless you wanna die today.”

  Sal was defiant. “I want you people out of here.”

  “Us people ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Big Walt said. “The quicker you understand that, the quicker the lady can pay her respects. Capite?”

  “Michael, Vincent! Prendere questo bastardo via da di me!—Get this bastard off of me!” Sal ordered.

  “You best not be talkin’ ’bout my mama,” Big Walt said.

  Two men started to charge at them. Big Walt didn’t appear the least bit worried. He didn’t take his eyes off Sal, while The Hammer wasted no time pulling out his gun and brandishing it about. Women shrieked, men drew back. Arnell tried to shrink back, but Esther was holding her firm and Ace was up against Arnell’s back.

  “Stay where you are,” Ace said. “I got your back.”

  Arnell didn’t know if she felt good about that or not. What the hell was she doing there in the first place?

  “Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” The Hammer said, holding his gun firm but threateningly.

  “Oh, God, Mother, this is so bad,” Arnell said, trembling. “Tony wouldn’t—”

  “Shhh,” Esther said softly. “This is what Tony would want me to do.”

  Esther started walking forward, taking Arnell with her. The path they set their feet upon began to clear as men backed off and away. An eerie hush fell over the room as if someone had demanded instant silence. Every head was turned toward Esther and Arnell. Arnell nervously scanned the faces of those who looked perplexed and those that looked scornfully at her and Esther. The only two people who weren’t glaring at them were Peter and Anthony Jr.—Peter was sadly shaking his head, Anthony kept his eyes on the floor.

  Esther looked neither right nor left as she passed Tony’s family on her way to look upon his face. And when she did finally see Tony, a long, mournful gasp tore from her. Tony was truly gone. His naturally tanned complexion was no more—he was chalky white. Although Esther had told herself she wouldn’t cry in front of all these people, tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Arnell saw Esther’s tears and she, too, welled up. It was still so strange to see Esther cry.

  “Good-bye, Tony. I will always love you,” Esther whispered so that only Arnell could hear her. Esther reached out to lay her hand on top of Tony’s overlapped hands.

  “Toccarlo non lei—Don’t you touch him!” a woman’s voice shrieked.

  Esther’s hand hung above Tony’s. She held it there for what seemed like a heart-pounding eternity.

  Arnell put her lips to Esther’s ear. “She said, don’t touch him.”

  Esther didn’t turn around to see who had ordered her to not touch Tony, she already knew. It was Isabella, Tony’s wife. But Esther didn’t care. Ever defiant, she brought her hand gently down atop Tony’s.

  Isabella pulled away from Anthony’s hold on her. “How dare you show your face here, in front of my family and my friends. What kind of coldhearted woman are you?”

  “You have no respect for anyone, do you?” Sal asked angrily. “Sputo su lei, lei la femmina!—I spit on you, you bitch!”

  Scowling, Big Walt asked, “What did he say?” “He said something about spit,” Arnell said, not wanting to translate the word bitch for fear that all hell would break loose. She wanted to get out of there alive.

  “You better keep that spit in your mouth,” Big Walt warned. He tightened his grip on Sal, almost choking him. “Or I’ll shove your tongue down your throat.”

  Sal quickly closed his mouth.

  Behind her, Arnell could hear people stirring. They had found their voices and had begun to question what was going on. She heard one woman ask, “Il Tony ha avuto un mistress nero?—Tony had a black mistress?” She heard another say, “Nessuno prodigio che non era mai la casa—No wonder he was never home.” The gossip mill was turning—viciously.

  “Mother, you’ve done what you set out to do—you’ve seen Tony. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Esther had closed her eyes and seemed to be praying.

  “How can you disrespect my mother like this?” a woman’s voice asked. “My father disrespected her all of his life, why must you carry on his legacy of disrespect to my mother in front of her family and friends?”

  Arnell had never seen Tony’s daughter. She wanted to turn and look at her but Esther’s hold was still firm on her arm. Arnell couldn’t look around comfortably without disturbing Esther in her stolen moment with Tony.

  “Do you hear me talking to you!” Tony’s daughter screamed. “Lei il whore sporco—You filthy whore . . .”

  Arnell bristled. The word whore was understandable in any language, but filthy whore?

  A chorus of gasps rose up from mourners who had no idea about Tony’s other life.

  “. . . You should be stoned in the streets like the harlots of old. You laid with my father for money and destroyed his family without a care in the world . . .”

  Arnell felt Tony’s daughter getting closer to her and Esther. Arnell’s spine stiffened. She felt her heart race.

  “. . . You tricked and deceived my father with your gutter sex and vicious lies. He never saw through you, but I did. You’re the regina di whores—queen of whores, and—”

  Slap!

  Arnell’s slap caught Tony’s daughter so by surprise, her head snapped back but her mouth continued to hang open in a startled gasp as she brought her hand to her stinging cheek.

  Just as surprised was Arnell. She could not believe that she had slapped Tony’s daughter, but she couldn’t stand there and let her call Esther all those names. Not when it felt to Arnell as if those same names were being hurled at her.

  Tony’s large family started to lunge forward but The Hammer quickly fired once up at the ceiling. The loud report shocked all the mourners and everyone fell back with a shriek. That is, except for Tony’s daughter.
She clawed out for Arnell but Ace blocked her attack.

  Now Arnell felt as if she had to protect herself as well. She faced Tony’s daughter. “La Femmina, lei farebbe il dorsa migliore via da—Bitch, you’d better back off! “

  Tony’s daughter appeared to be more stunned by Arnell speaking Italian than by the slap. She stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed at Arnell.

  “Femmina, I’m a half second from kicking il suo grasso come ovunque questa cappella—your fat ass all over this chapel.”

  “How dare you—”

  “No! How dare you! You called my mother one too many goddamn whores, bitch, or would you prefer femmina? Your daddy taught me well, didn’t he? But I’m telling you in English, call my mother just one more whore, and it’ll be the last time you ever say that word to anyone.”

  Tony’s daughter’s eyes were wide with fear. “Who . . . who do you think you are?”

  “I’m your worst nightmare, bitch. I’m the daughter of the woman that your daddy preferred to be with. Understand this, my mother didn’t come into Bay Ridge looking for Tony, Tony found his own way out of Bay Ridge, on his own, three days a week for twelve long years, looking for my mother. There was a reason why Tony stepped outside his marriage to your mother, but my mother had nothing to do with it. You, your brothers, and your mother have always known about his affair, you should have confronted him on that. But then again, I know that you did, and I also know that he told all of you to go fuck yourselves. If you didn’t like it, you should have walked away from him, but you couldn’t and you didn’t. So deal with what Tony wanted. He would have wanted my mother to be here. I don’t agree, but Tony would if he could. Now, we’ve paid our respects, so we’re leaving. Tony was a good man. Too bad none of you were good enough for him to want to stay true to his family.

  “Come, Mother, we’ve overstayed our welcome.”

  Esther opened her eyes and the tears she had been holding back flowed. She then bent down and kissed Tony on the lips.

  Isabella swooned and was quickly pulled back to her seat where she slumped heavily in her chair, her eyes closed. No one fanned her, the chapel was air-conditioned.

  With her arm around Esther’s waist, Arnell rolled her eyes at Tony’s daughter and led Esther past her.

  Big Walt let go of Sal and graciously brushed off his lapels. The Hammer, still holding his gun, began to lead the way out while Big Walt and Ace brought up the rear. Esther still did not look at anyone as she raised her chin and allowed Arnell to take her out of the chapel. She had gotten her satisfaction.

  Twenty-Eight

  Forty-five minutes had passed since Esther’s goon squad returned Arnell and Esther to the mansion. Arnell was still shaking. She had been sitting alone in the backseat of Esther’s Lincoln parked in the driveway all of those forty-five minutes, too afraid to go inside the house for fear that she might kill Esther. All the way back, Arnell avoided looking at the back of Esther’s head—she was afraid she would take her pocketbook and whack Esther with it. That’s how pissed off she was. If Esther had been so desperate to see Tony, she should have gotten Big Walt and his boys to mount an attack on the funeral director last night or early this morning before all those people were in attendance—especially Tony’s family. Oh, but that would have been too easy, too much like the right thing to do—if anything—compared to the near disaster they’d had this morning with guns drawn.

  Arnell wondered what she had done in a past life to deserve the anguish of this life. Her life was a living nightmare. Arnell glimpsed her face in the rearview mirror. Boy, did she look bitter. And the truth was, she wasn’t a bitter person. Of course, she wouldn’t dispute anyone who said she was an angry person. Nothing truer could be said about her, but she had just cause to be angry. Nothing in her life had ever gone right and the ugliness of the last two months confirmed that.

  For the umpteenth time, Arnell had let herself be blackmailed by Esther into servicing a client and that bastard of a client, Woodruff Parker, had shown his gratitude by raping her. Then she had tried to end Esther’s hold over her by telling James the truth about her life, but, oh no, Esther had to fake a heart attack and forestall her. Then she had gone away to get her mind and body ready to go up against Esther, but then Esther’s frantic calls to Sharise about Tony’s death had put an end to her retreat and she had to rush back to stand by Esther’s side only to strong-arm their way into Tony’s funeral with all the finesse of a pack of gangbangers at a debutante ball.

  Each and every one of these incidents, singly, was enough to work Arnell’s last nerve, but all of these incidents happening in such a short period of time was more than enough to send her over the edge, which is where she now tottered. All of her life Esther had been the bane of her existence. Any trouble that found its way to her always emanated from Esther directly. But, damn, was there ever to be an end to the madness? Hadn’t she, just a few days ago up at the health spa, come to the realization that she, not Esther, was in control of her life? Hadn’t she better start acting like it? Wasn’t it time she freed herself of Esther’s jugular-sucking control? Whether or not she ended up alone in the world, in order to survive Esther with her sanity intact, short of being reborn outside of her womb, Arnell was going to have to put Esther out of her life—permanently.

  Tap . . . tap . . . tap!

  Arnell snapped out of her introspective trance and looked out the car window into the tired, doleful eyes of young Trena. Oh, damn! I forgot all about this poor child. Arnell quickly opened the door.

  “Are you still gonna help me?” Trena asked anxiously. “Are you still gonna call my mother?”

  Damn, she had forgotten. “Of course, I’m still gonna help you,” Arnell said, climbing out of the car. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  “Not much. I kept having bad dreams. Can you call my mother now?”

  “Sure. Let’s go up to your room where we can have some privacy. What is your mother’s name?”

  “Maxine Gatlind,” Trena answered as she followed Arnell back into the house. Together they hurried through the kitchen—Trena with her head down.

  Melvina looked up just as Trena and Arnell exited the kitchen. “Trena! Trena, you want something to eat, child?”

  Trena didn’t answer. She and Arnell both scampered up the back stairs to her room.

  Down in the kitchen, Melvina was suspicious of Arnell being with Trena. When their being together crossed her mind twice, she was sure something wasn’t right. Melvina headed for Esther’s suite.

  Upstairs, Trena dialed her mother and quickly handed the telephone to Arnell as soon as the first ring sounded in her ear. Then she began to nibble on her already gnawed fingernails.

  “Hello?”

  “Yes. Hello. May I speak with Mrs. Maxine Gatlind?”

  “Who’s calling?”

  “My name is Arnell. I’m a friend of Trena Gatlind.”

  “That’s my sister. Do you know where she is?”

  “Excuse me, but what is your name?” Arnell asked to make sure that what the woman said was true.

  “Cheryl.”

  “Yes, Cheryl, Trena has mentioned you,” Arnell said, looking at Trena for confirmation.

  In a hushed voice, Trena said, “Don’t talk to her. Talk to my mother.”

  “What do you know about Trena?”

  “Trena is fine, Cheryl, but I really need to speak with your mother. May I?”

  The other end of the telephone was silent. Then, “Mom! Telephone! It’s about Trena.”

  There was the sound of quick moving footfalls and then, “Who is it.”

  “I don’t know. Some woman name Arnell. She wants to speak to you.”

  “Who is this?”

  “Mrs. Gatlind, my name is Arnell and I’m calling on Trena’s behalf.”

  Wanting to hear her mother’s voice and what she was about to say, Trena pressed her head to Arnell’s, trying to share the receiver.

  “What the hell do you mean, on Trena’s behalf? Wher
e is she? I want to speak to my daughter.”

  “Who is it, Maxine? What are they saying about Trena?”

  “Joe, wait a minute, the woman hasn’t said much of anything yet.”

  “Goddamn it, ask her where Trena is.”

  Trena muffled her urge to cry but the tears came anyway. Her father was home.

  “Miss, if this is a joke, I’ll have your number traced and you’ll be locked up so fast—”

  “Mrs. Gatlind, this is not a joke. I do know where Trena is,” Arnell said, realizing that there might have been many crank calls about Trena since she left home. “Mrs. Gatlind, you will be able to speak to Trena, but I just wanted to first put your mind at ease that she is all right. I’ve spoken to Trena and she tells me that she regrets running away and she wants to return home.”

  “That’s fine. Tell me where she is and her father and I will come and get her.”

  Trena’s eyes widened. She shook her head frantically.

  “No,” Arnell said quickly. “I’ll get her back home to you. I just wanted to make sure she was welcome.”

  “Miss, I don’t know what Trena has told you, but she has never been an abused child. Her father, her sister, and I love her and miss her. We want Trena back home, today. Is she there with you?”

  Arnell pulled back from Trena and looked at her. Trena’s face was wet with tears. Arnell handed her the telephone.

  “Mom,” Trena said, her voice sounding so much like that of a little girl.

  “Trena! Oh, my God. Trena, where are you? Baby, where are you?”

  Sobbing openly, Trena clutched the telephone. “I’m sorry, Mommy. Mommy, I’m so sorry.”

  Feeling weepy herself, Arnell slipped from the room, but she didn’t go far—she waited outside in the hallway. She figured what Trena had to say to her mother from this point on was private.

  “Arnell.”

  Because of the carpeted stairs, Arnell had not heard Esther come up the back stairs.

  “What are you doing up here, sweetie?”

  That damn nosy ass Melvina. “I could ask the same question of you. I thought you were resting.”

  “I was until I heard you were still here. Are you all right?”