by Pearl Cleage
Precious stopped the chair’s motion and turned to Kwame, standing in the doorway. “Have you told Aretha?”
He ducked his head like a ten-year-old kid with a bad report card. “About the murder?”
“About who you are!”
He winced at her angry tone. “I wanted to tell you first. It’s your future they’re trying to snatch.”
“This isn’t about politics,” Precious said, hearing the anger in her tone and unable to mute it. “You can’t run away from what you’ve done.”
“I didn’t kill him!”
Precious stood up and walked quickly back inside. Kwame backed away as if he thought she might strike him. For several minutes, she just looked at him, then she took a deep breath. She realized he was hoping she could make it all go away. He was hoping Mommy could fix it.
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” she said quietly. “First you have to tell Aretha everything. Then I’ll call Hank Lumumba and see if he can represent you.”
Kwame’s shocked face told her this possibility had never entered his mind. “Represent me?”
“You’re going to need a good lawyer.”
“You’re going to let them arrest me?”
“I’m not going to compound one lie with another.”
It was dawning on him that she was not going to do what Captain Kilgore wanted. She was going to hire him a lawyer and stand her ground. The only problem was, as she stood there, his life would be slipping away like a California mud slide. He’d be arrested. His private life would be public knowledge. His job would evaporate. His marriage would disintegrate, and even if he was acquitted—and that was a big if since innocent men and women went to jail every day in America!—the sordid details of the case would follow him for the rest of his life.
“Do you know what kind of publicity there will be if you let this go forward?” he whined.
“I have some idea.”
“Do you know what that will do to Aretha?”
“Do you care?”
He sat back down suddenly and tears filled his eyes. “That isn’t fair.”
“Go home and talk to your wife.”
Kwame buried his face in his hands again. “This will kill her.”
“No, it won’t. It can’t. Somebody has to think about your daughter.”
At the mention of Joyce Ann, Kwame began to moan softly. He buried his face in his hands. The sound of such misery in her only son made Precious want to weep, too, but it was too late for tears. She reached out and touched his head gently, hoping he understood that his sexuality was not the problem, his lies were. He reached out and encircled her waist with his arms, his head burrowed into her belly like there was still safety to be found there.
“My beautiful boy,” she whispered. “What have you done to us all?”
When he didn’t look up, she knew he could never tell Aretha the whole truth. He probably didn’t know it himself, and twenty-four hours wasn’t enough time to find out.
“Did Captain Kilgore give you a number for me to call with my answer?”
Kwame nodded, fumbled in his shirt pocket, and handed her a crumpled piece of paper.
“Mom, please…”
“Call your wife,” Precious said, dialing Lee’s number.
Lee answered on the second ring. “Senator Hargrove,” she said, reading the caller ID. “What can I do for you?”
“You can’t do anything for me,” Precious said evenly. “My son told me about your offer and I don’t need twenty-four hours. You can have my answer now.”
“Your choice, Senator.”
“That’s right, it is. Let me make this as clear as I can. You can go to hell, Captain Kilgore. I intend to see the mayor first thing tomorrow morning to share my concerns about your role in all of this, and I mean all of it. You’re a disgrace to your uniform and the people who died for your right to wear it.”
“I don’t have to listen to—”
“Yes, you do. You’ve got to listen long enough to see if I’m going to let you hold my child’s fear of who he is over my head like a stick. But I’ve never been afraid of the truth and I never will be. You know my son is innocent of murder and so do I. If he has to go to court to prove it, I’ll be right beside him every step of the way.”
“I see,” Lee said quietly. “I think it’s only fair to warn you that I’ll have to turn everything over to the proper authorities.”
“You’re supposed to be the proper authorities, Captain Kilgore. Remember?”
Precious hung up before Lee could say another word, glanced at her son still weeping in his chair, and punched in her daughter-in-law’s number.
62
In the dream, it always begins with the sound of breaking glass and muffled voices, cursing as they climb the stairs. Tonight was the same. Abbie awoke with a start and ran to the bathroom. After the dream, she always vomited. She had stopped eating to prevent this final indignity, but it didn’t matter. Her stomach would still flip and cramp and retch, bringing up nothing but bile and bitterness. Afterward, she splashed water on her face and gazed at her reflection, hardly recognizing herself in the pale, wild-eyed woman staring back.
This is what I am now, she thought. No voices, no visions, no sound of the sea inside my head. Now when she closed her eyes, all she heard was their angry voices and all she smelled was her own terror. In the mirror, she watched her left eye twitching and wished they had burned the house down around her. That house and the safety it had always promised was a lie. She knew that now. There were no safe spaces no matter how many prayers she prayed and spells she cast. She was alone.
Abbie wondered if other people saw the world as she now perceived it. She wondered if they saw the same mean, vicious, ugly place that waited just outside her blue front door. Maybe this was how other people saw one another, as capable of such casual evil that there could be no words to describe it, no charms to dispel it, no explanation to allow the mind to understand, the heart to forgive, and the soul to continue its journey. She closed her eyes and wept.
It began as a long, low groan and then rose to a high, thin, anguished wail. She made no attempt to control the sounds suddenly issuing from her body. She just leaned against the sink and let herself cry for all she’d lost and for whatever she had now become. She felt at that moment that if she stopped herself, she might die from the effort. Even more frightening to her, she wasn’t sure that wasn’t what she really wanted. If the rest of her life was to be lived in this dark pit, she was ready to let it go and try the next one. It had to be better than this.
In the hallway outside Abbie’s apartment, Peachy pressed his ear to the door and listened. He could hear her sobbing and the sound broke and rebroke his heart until he thought he would go insane. She had no idea that he was sitting outside her door that midnight, just as he had done every day and every night since she arrived. She had no idea that he left his self-appointed post only long enough to eat and catch a few hours’ sleep when her niece was there.
Regina had told him he didn’t have to sit there and promised she would come upstairs and get him the minute Abbie gave her permission, but Peachy just thanked her and said it was no trouble. What he meant was, there was no way he was leaving Abbie alone. Even if she thought that was what she needed, he wasn’t going anywhere. He remembered when Lillie had tried to tell him she didn’t want him to come to the hospital anymore after the cancer had robbed her of everything but her spirit. Something about not wanting him to see her that way. It had taken him the better part of a day to explain that he wanted to see her any and every way he could for as long as he could because he loved her, and unless she was going to have the police come and haul him away, he was there for the duration. After he said that, knowing how much he hated the police, she knew he was serious and she stopped trying to make him go away. Later, she even told him she was sorry she had tried and he kissed her little bald head and told her that was okay. He knew she didn’t mean it.
He knew A
bbie didn’t mean it either, but she was still a free woman, and even though he was her chosen man, he had to respect her wishes. Not going to her was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. But she had decided to walk this part of the road by herself and he had to go along with that. Just like he had to believe that when she was ready, she would know that his love could hold her and heal her and lead her back to who she really was, no matter what those fiends had done.
So Peachy stood there listening until her sobbing stopped and he heard her walk back toward the bedroom. Then he sat back down to wait, because he knew that one night, maybe not tonight, but soon, she would open that door, slowly, slowly, and when she did, he would be there.
63
Her car was in the lot, but when General walked into Montre’s after he talked to Blue, Brandi wasn’t on the pole or finishing up a lap dance. Johnny told him she was up next, but he wasn’t in the mood to wait, so he told Johnny to go get her. Not in the mood for random contact either, he sat alone in Johnny’s sad little excuse for an office. There was a broken-down desk, a couple of rickety-looking folding chairs, a couch that looked like it had absorbed its share of fluids, bodily and otherwise, and a calendar from the year 2000.
The dime-store corkboard above Johnny’s desk was crowded with snapshots of tired-looking naked women, along with their names, vital statistics, and phone numbers. As if there was no photographic evidence to the contrary, most of the measurements the women were claiming added up to perfect hourglass figures. General turned away from their sad eyes and cellulite-dimpled thighs. All he wanted to do was talk to Brandi.
Why had he ever questioned her about that young fool? That one lapse in judgment meant that she was the only person who could connect him to the murder. The way she’d been blabbing to Madonna, he knew it was only a matter of time before she said too much. It was time for her to go to Vegas. When he got back, he’d tell Blue she liked it so much, she decided to stay. They’d have a good laugh about how a man his age should have known better and that would be the end of it.
“Hey, baby!” she said, coming into the office and hugging him quickly. She had thrown on a thin robe, but underneath it she was still naked. “Johnny said you was in here. ’Bout time! I thought you was never gonna come see me!”
“I been busy.”
Something in his tone made her nervous. Ever since Keisha had shown her the news item in the paper about Baby Brother, she’d been looking over her shoulder. The police didn’t have any suspects, and until they arrested somebody, she was being extra careful. She’d had a john die of a heart attack once, but nothing like this, and Brandi was scared. General being out of town hadn’t made her feel any more secure. He’d called her a couple of times since he returned from D.C., but he hadn’t been by to see her but once and then he didn’t even stay long enough to get a dance.
Of course, she was glad to see him back. The problem was, she still couldn’t tell him how frightened she’d been while he was gone. She couldn’t confess that she’d been with Baby Brother in that loft the same night he got killed. General had given her a thousand dollars and told her to stay home, but she just had to go make that extra money! She couldn’t just do like he said, like she promised, and now look what she’d gotten herself into.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
In the small room, General suddenly seemed like a giant to her. She felt sweat forming under her breasts. “What do you mean, baby? Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me now that you back.”
He looked at her so hard that if he hadn’t been standing between her and the door, she would have tried to make a run for it.
“I saw you.”
The sweat began to run down her body in small rivulets, but she didn’t notice. “Saw me do what?”
“I saw you leave that nigga’s place the night I went to D.C.”
Her frightened, guilty look made him feel sorry for her, but she was going to be a lot more frightened before he was through. He had to scare Brandi enough to make her shut up before she blew everything wide open just by talking too much.
“What you mean? I wadn’t at no nigga’s place that night.”
“I saw you come out wearing the dress I got you for Vegas.”
The idea made her feel weak with fear. She sat down heavily on the nasty couch. “You were watchin’ me?”
“I watch everybody.”
She broke down immediately. “He just said he wanted some company, baby, and you had left me already.”
“With a thousand dollars of my money in your pocket.”
“Don’t be mad, baby. He don’t mean nothin’ to me. I only saw him a couple of times at the club and then that one night.”
“Did you kill him?”
She groaned. “Don’t say that, baby! Don’t say that! You know I didn’t kill nobody. I ain’t even got no gun. I didn’t even have no beef with that guy. He paid me my money and I left. He wanted me to go out to the club, but I didn’t go, baby. I went home like you told me. I swear I did!”
That much was true. She had taken all the cash Baby Brother had and his promise to raise more did not impress her. Call me when it’s in your hand, she’d said over her shoulder on her way out the door.
“You think the police are going to believe that bullshit?” General growled.
Her eyes opened even wider. “What police?”
“The ones that are going to be looking for you.”
“For me?”
“You’re a suspect.”
“Oh my God! Oh my God! How do you know?”
“Don’t worry about how I know. You better be trying to figure out what you’re going to do when they start asking around about who knew him and who saw him last.”
Tears were rolling down her face and her mascara was smeared around her eyes like a raccoon. General knew there’d been no witnesses to the murder, but she was so terrified, if he’d told her there was a videotape, she probably would have believed him.
“Oh my God,” she said again, jumping up suddenly and throwing her arms around his neck in desperation. “You gotta help me, baby! You gotta help me!”
He pulled her arms away. “You should have thought of that when you took my money and went looking for a nigga who didn’t have no better sense than to get himself killed.”
She was crying harder and harder and her eyes implored him. “I’m so sorry, baby. I was wrong. I’ll never do it again, I swear to God, but you gotta help me! You gotta believe me!”
He let her stand there, shivering with fear for long enough to make his point. “Are you going to do everything I tell you?”
“Yes, baby! I swear I will! Whatever you tell me is what I’m gonna do. Just help me. Please help me!”
That was what he needed to hear. “You have to get out of town until things cool off.”
“Out of town?” she said. “Where am I gonna go?”
“Vegas. Just like we planned.”
“Vegas?” Relief flooded her face, but her tone was incredulous; still scared to believe him.
He nodded. “I’ve made some calls. We’ll get you a job. A place to stay. A couple of months, this will all blow over and you can come back.”
“I gotta go by myself?” she whimpered.
She sounded so scared, he felt sorry for her all over again. This wasn’t her fault. She was caught up in something she didn’t even understand. He reached out then and pulled her up tight against him. She collapsed into his arms.
“You know I’m going to take better care of you than that,” he said gently. “I’m leaving tonight to get everything set up. There will be a ticket for you at the airport, and when you get to Vegas tomorrow, I’ll meet you with a limo and everything else you need.”
“Thank you, baby,” she whispered, burying her face in his chest, trembling like the last leaf on the tree. “Thank you.”
He reached into his pocket and handed her all the cash he found there. She clutched it in her hand
miserably. He knew she was afraid to fly by herself, but he had to go on ahead to put some things in place. Everything had to look absolutely cool when she got there so she wouldn’t even suspect that she wasn’t ever coming back. He just couldn’t risk it.
“You okay?”
She nodded.
“Good. Now go do your show and make it a good one.”
“Why, baby?” Things were moving so fast she felt dizzy.
“Because this is the last time you’re going to have to shake your fine ass in front of these broke-ass niggas.”
That elicited a shaky smile. “You promise, baby?”
“I promise.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow night. In Vegas.”
He kissed her once quickly and left her standing in Johnny’s office alone. It wasn’t until after she had finished her shift and started for home that the thought crossed her mind that General knew exactly who had killed Baby Brother. And so did she.
64
Regina was sleeping. Her body was curved so closely against Blue’s that they were now breathing in perfect sync. His arms were wrapped protectively around her, and in the first rays of early morning light, his eyes were wide open and shining like sapphires. Blue lay down with Regina every night, but he rarely slept. His mind seemed to prefer nighttime for the processing of information. He had spent the last seven hours holding his wife’s soft, warm body and thinking about what he always said were the only two questions worth asking: What is? and What is next?
Lying there in the darkness, he thought about the world into which his child would be born and he was filled with joy at the creation of new life from the love he shared with Regina, and despair at what his people had become. He was filled with rage at the destruction of a whole race, who’d gone from being free men and free women to being called slaves in the time it took those evil ships to cross the Atlantic Ocean. He knew few of his brothers had survived that Middle Passage with manhood and sanity intact. The ones who did were quickly identified and destroyed, since manhood is an easily recognizable state of heart and mind that can never coexist with a system of slavery.