by Eric Pete
He yelped in pain and his gun flew out of his hand as he clutched his collarbone. With the splintered drawer and me on top of him, he tried to scramble for his gun, until I pressed my insurance up against the back of his head.
I cocked the hammer back and felt Vaughn trembling in fear. One sudden move and the last thing going through his mind would be my bullet.
“Lance, why you’re doin’ this over a bitch?” he pleaded. “I thought you were harder than that. You actin’ all soft. C’mon, man. Please. Don’t go out like this.”
“Who the fuck is Lance?” I said as I tried to disguise my voice.
“You, bruh. You ain’t no killer.”
“Are you sure?” I whispered. “If I am Lance, then you saw my record. Now . . . are you really sure of what I will or won’t do? Huh?”
“L-look, man. What do you want from me?” He had begun crying again.
“I want you dead.”
BAM! BAM! BAM!
I stood up from the still body of Vaughn. Blood covered my gloved hands and I quickly took one off and stowed it in my pocket. Taking Renika’s license out, I pulled Vaughn’s wallet out of his back pocket and carefully stowed her license behind his. I then replaced his wallet.
Vaughn’s gunshots had to have drawn attention. I had to go. I stowed my bloodstained revolver back into my pants and left him there. I had gone down a dark street I hadn’t been on in a long time, but I couldn’t let myself stay there. Instead of shooting Vaughn, I had pistol-whipped him into unconsciousness.
No matter how bad Vaughn had behaved, cops were going to stick up for cops. Renika was going to get the raw deal and I couldn’t let that happen. We went back too far and had too much history. She had gone out of her way for me and had paid the price, so I had gone out of my way and had brought back the old Lance if just for one night. I vowed he would never be seen again after that.
Running out onto the parking lot, I made my way to the stolen car and sped off. I made a noisy exit so someone would catch a glimpse of the car that had surely been reported as stolen from the mall by now.
I headed straight for River Road where I took the hot gun I had used and hurled it off the levee into the deep, churning waters of the Mississippi. Every instinct inside me told me to take the car somewhere and burn it to a crisp. That was how things were done in the N.O. No car, no evidence.
I began driving for nearby Algiers where I knew of a couple spots near the Fisher Projects, but saw the mall where I had stolen the car. This was somebody’s car that they had paid good money for. I had vowed the old Lance was gone and I now knew how hard a buck was to come by. I hadn’t done any serious damage to the car, so I broke down and parked it a block away from where I had stolen it hours earlier.
Two hours later, I staggered into the area hotel room that I had checked in before going to the mall. I had ditched the dark clothes and mask I was using.
“Did you do it?” the freckled face asked from the bed she was sitting stoically on.
“Yeah.”
“Did he know it was you?”
“. . . No.” The less she knew, the safer she would be. Even if he did, he wasn’t telling. Neither his pride nor his freshly broken jaw would let him.
“Good,” was the only thing my alibi said about it. There was no judgment. “Come here,” she requested. “I’m cold.”
I let my clothes fall off and held Val in my arms beneath the covers until checkout time.
45
“Y’know . . . I’m not good at this kind of sh— . . . er . . . stuff,” Akhet announced, taking note of Bobby at the table. Valerie winked at him. He continued, “But I have to give a toast to y’all two. For you give hope to the rest of us out there tryin’ to put it down.”
The four of us—Akhet, Kyne, Val, and myself—raised our glasses to celebrate togetherness this Friday night. Bobby even held his up with some assistance from his mother. Akhet had brought us to Zachary’s on Oak Street near the river bend in the Uptown section of town, a restaurant for real people with some of the city’s best food. The owner had a special buffet awaiting us with all the cuisine the restaurant was famous for.
“I want to toast the both of you too,” Kyne said whimsically. “Valerie, I know we’ll never be the best of friends, but I just want Lance to be happy. You make him happy, so that’s all I need. I wish you the best.”
“Thank you . . . I guess,” Valerie answered, accepting Kyne’s attempt at a truce. “And I wish you and Akhet a bright future also. He’s a nice guy, so do him right.”
“Me? A nice guy? Girl, you tryin’ to ruin my rep out in the public?”
The table was filled with laughter, but I knew Akhet was really touched by Val’s remarks. Bridges were being built this night between all of us. Our hostess interrupted the festive chatter to let us know the food was ready.
“I woulda sprung for the wedding, bruh,” he said as we let the women and child get their food first. “Sure you don’t want a big ceremony?”
I drank more of my iced tea. “We’re sure,” I answered. “After what’s happened to Renika, we’re all bummin’.”
Renika was still being tended to in the hospital, but refused to let us tell her relatives. Her emotional scars ran deep and Val had arranged for counseling with her cousin, an expert on battered women. Renika was still afraid to publicly admit Vaughn’s abuse, but we hoped that with time she would be able to move on.
As twisted as it sounds, Vaughn had turned into the hero of the apartment complex as word of his fighting off burglars spread. The story was that even after being surprised and beaten by the gang of intruders, who probably had a score to settle, Vaughn had managed to get to a backup gun and fire shots off. Of course, these thugs had fled into the night. It made for good mailbox chat as not a whole lot went on in the apartments. I did notice that Vaughn hadn’t been around since. He was probably in heavy rehab, but I was careful to watch my back anyway.
“You don’t hit on a woman. For what he did to Renika, someone needs fuck him up, bruh.”
With my most sincere smile, I said, “I agree.” It was for the best that Akhet was kept out of it. The fewer people who knew the better.
Val came back to the table and set a cup of okra gumbo down for Bobby. She knew we were in the middle of “guy talk” and went back to get her meal.
“Don’t you think y’all are rushin’ just a little?”
“After all we’ve been through, this is overdue,” I said, thinking about our small, private ceremony that was taking place in just two days. “Val won’t have her maid of honor, but I still got you for my best man. Right? Right?”
“If I can help it, bruh,” he said wearily. I hadn’t noticed the worn expression on his face until he let it show. It was apparent Akhet hadn’t slept in days and there was usually one reason for that. I had never seen him this ragged out. The secret’s burden was getting the best of him and it looked like he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Why did you say it like that? . . . If you can help it.”
“Listen to the radio tonight,” was all he said cryptically.
Kyne and Val returned with Bobby. It seemed like the two of them were managing to coexist, if just for this night. It was a full house this Friday night, so the two of us went to fill our plates before things ran out.
All of us had finished eating, except for Akhet. He had gone back for thirds. Kyne had excused herself to the bar for a drink. I took that time to sneak a kiss from Val when Bobby interrupted us.
Tugging on my shirtsleeve, he asked, “Can you take me to the bathroom, Daddy Lance? I gotta number one.”
“Bobby,” Val said as I thought she was going to scold him. “Just call him Daddy.”
I looked at Val as if to ask, “Are you sure?”
Her smile and the twinkle in her eye said, “I’m sure.”
As I held Bobby up to the sink so he could wash his hands, we had a private chat. “Why’d you beat my daddy up?”
“Who told you that?�
�� I asked, almost dropping him.
“I heard my mommy talking after he moved.”
“Grown-ups do stupid things sometimes,” I said, thinking over more incidents than I could count. “I was stupid for doing that.”
“That’s okay,” he said, turning the water off. “He’s not my daddy anyway. You are.”
As I set Bobby back down, I kneeled down to talk. “Don’t say that,” I said. “He’s still your daddy and he loves you. And I love you too. There’s enough of you to go around.”
“I’m glad you’re marrying my mommy.”
“I am too, Bobby.” I gave the future a big, loving hug.
After returning to the table, Akhet announced that he and Kyne had to get to the radio station for an interview. He invited us to come, but we still had to prepare for the big pre-wedding party at the park the next day.
“See you tomorrow, bruh?”
Akhet looked as if he were going to say something profound, but settled on, “Fo’ sho.”
On the way home, we stopped for some ice cream. Bobby had a banana split we knew he couldn’t finish while Val and I shared a sundae.
“If I don’t watch this late-night eating, I won’t be able to fit my wedding dress.”
“Eat, girl,” I said as I shoveled the pink plastic spoon into her mouth. She laughed as she partially choked on the whipped cream and nuts before flipping ice cream off the spoon at me.
The high school student behind the counter laughed to herself and shook her head as she was trying to clean up before closing. A radio was turned up to keep her and her co-worker company. I recognized the gravelly voice and asked her to turn it up.
AK was in the studio on Q93 debuting the remix of his single “Not Ready to Die.” Before premiering it, the DJ wanted to get into the feud with On-Phire, the brawl in the club, and about how fine he thought Kyne was. After telling the DJ to take his eyes off Kyne, AK reaffirmed that he was no longer with the label and that tonight would be a new beginning for him.
“He didn’t tell me he had a remix,” I said as I listened.
“Are you his manager?” Val laughed. Bobby laughed too.
The DJ took a few calls, then had AK announce his own single. I had heard the original version all over the airwaves, but this one was a lot different. The arrangements had been changed and it seemed like a different point was being made. I can’t deny it. I liked it. I liked it a lot. Then the verses came that froze me to the bone. When the song ended, even the DJ was dead silent.
The store was closing so we left. That didn’t stop Val, who was wondering what everyone was reacting to.
As we drove back to my place, she muttered, “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear Akhet had actually done that.”
I heard what she said, but didn’t comment. I had too much on my mind and was in another place and another time. AK’s haunting words played over and over in my head.
For what it’s worth, I shot and killed an innocent soul and it hurts. Cursed to fate by what I’d done. Now my conscience got me on the run. I said now my conscience got me on the run. I said . . . now my conscience got me on the run. Kevin didn’t ask for it, so why is it like that? He wasn’t ready to die . . . and I can never bring him back.
Dear Momma, I’m sorry.
46
Years Ago
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why?” I yelled as I slammed my fists into him. The kid, a full inch taller than me and just sprouting facial hair, stumbled backward into the fence. His white Chicago Bulls jersey stained in crimson. In the dark, it looked black. Rather than arguing or trying to fight back, he lowered his head.
“What am I gonna do, dawg?”
“Pray, man. Pray.”
Lucky for him, my mother was working late. We were gathered in my backyard like a pair of thieves. Nothing had been stolen, except for an innocent life. I wouldn’t call that “nothing.”
“It—it was an accident,” Akhet sobbed. He was losing his battle to maintain his composure. In his attempt to man-up, he tried to rationalize things. “Kevin . . . he—he ran up on me. You know how he’s always jokin’ around. He don’t know when to stop. He shoulda listened to Momma D and stayed his ass in the house.”
“You shot Kevin, man.” I was still trying to comprehend the gravity of what had just happened.
“I ain’t never shot nobody before in my life. Honest. I didn’t mean to do it. God, I don’t wanna go to prison.”
“You think he’s . . . ?”
Akhet nodded.
“Aww, man. No, no, no. Where is he?”
“Over on Mazant. I left him there. He wasn’t movin’. I tried shakin’ him, but he just lay there. I panicked and ran, dawg. I know somebody heard the shot.”
I gasped, holding back my own tears. I’d seen people killed before, but they were usually doing something they had no business doing. It was usually their time and we knew those risks in the street games we played. This was different.
We saw the lights and heard the sirens as police cars sped in the direction Akhet had just run from. Someone had either reported the shot or found Kevin. Somebody had to tell Mrs. Dumas. It wouldn’t have been right for a stranger to tell her about her son. The old woman was always so kind to us hardheads. I was torn between the duty I felt I had to her and to my boy here.
“You gotta help me, Lance. You my dawg.” He pulled out the gun he’d just used. It’d been stowed under his jersey where he’d been holding it. It was my first time smelling fresh gunpowder close up.
“What are you doing bringin’ that around here? Are you crazy?”
“I didn’t know what else to do with it,” he gasped. “I ran straight here.”
“And what do you want me to do? You know I promised my momma I’d stay outta trouble.”
“Please, dawg. I’m beggin’ you.”
I stared at him long and hard, contemplating. “Give me the gun . . . and your jersey and go home. I’ll get rid of them.”
“Lance, I . . . I—”
“I got your back,” I muttered. “I got your back.”
47
Then
In straight-up New Orleans tradition, Frankie Beverly and Maze sang us in. Nothing could sap my spirits on this lovely Saturday afternoon. I swayed to the melodic instrumentals at the beginning of “Joy and Pain” as I watched the large orange ball bounce across the grass—Bobby and his cousins chasing behind it.
“What you know about that music, boy?” Valerie’s dad asked, breaking his usual silence as he played dominoes nearby with some of his old crew.
“I know a lot about joy . . . and pain, Mr. Lewis. Don’t let the smooth taste fool ya.” Beer in hand, I walked over to the table they had set up and gave him a high five.
“I’m glad you and my daughter got stuff straightened out,” he said, looking up from his hand. “She can be stubborn at times. Gets that from her momma.”
“I’m sure her momma would say she gets it from you,” I said laughingly.
“Maybe just a little,” he said as he slammed a domino down.
The music ended briefly to a chorus of groans and boos as the speakers that were being set up came unplugged. Puffs of smoke blew across the park, carried up and away by the warm breeze. Valerie’s cousin, Troy, who was also catering the wedding reception, was slaving away on the large barbecue grill he had trucked in. The grill was about five times larger than he, and you could barely see his head through the sweet clouds of hickory, but Troy didn’t stop as he scurried to turn the slabs of ribs over and to poke at the pieces of chicken he had marinated the night before.
Mrs. Dumas was sitting with Val’s mom in the shade. It took some strong coaxing to get her to come across the river, but Momma D seemed pretty happy as she looked around through her prescription sunglasses.
“That’s a bad habit you need to give up,” Momma D said as she glared at my beer bottle.
“I know, ma’am. Are you having a good time?”
“Yes indeed, baby. I�
�m just getting acquainted here with your mother-in-law. Honestly, I feel like a proud mother. Mmm hmm. Both you and Akhet are like sons to me. Remember what I asked you that night?”
“Yes ma’am,” I said as I pointed my beer bottle in the direction of Val who was playing volleyball alongside her hairdresser. Val’s hairdresser never took off work on a Saturday, so this spoke volumes about how she felt toward my girl. “That’s my happiness right there.” I gave Momma D a kiss and went to join my happiness and barge in on her volleyball game.
It was almost time to eat and all the family, friends, and relatives were starting to move closer and closer to the table with the food. There were two people who hadn’t showed up yet and I would be lying if I said it wasn’t bothering me some. I saw a taxicab slow in the parking lot and thought it might have been Akhet and Kyne, but out stepped an unwelcome visitor.
“Oh no,” Val grunted as she saw Robert gaze over the crowd before strolling our way.
“Relax, baby. I promise not to do anything stupid. I’ll just ask him to leave.”
Mrs. Lewis had spotted Robert also and rushed over to Val’s father. With an agitated look on his face he digested what was told in his ear. He paused his game and stood up. As I walked toward Robert, with Val trailing behind, I motioned to him to sit back down. I had this. Eager to continue the ass whuppin’ he was laying on his friends, he resumed playing dominoes.
“This is a private party. Can I help you?”
“Relax, Lance. I know what’s going on.” His nose did look a little crooked, I noticed with a fleeting thought.
“What do you want?”
“Just to talk. Hey, Val,” he said as he looked over my shoulder at my uncomfortable bride-to-be.