Nasty

by Dr. Xyz

  Link pulled Ophelia up and hugged her tightly. They were both intensely proud that they had finally mastered the intricacies of the tango.

  They’d been working on it since they first started coming to the school three months sago. Since Javon’s and Eli’s funerals, he had made it his mission to be by her side. He loved this woman, and she truly needed him. It didn’t take long for him to figure out that Ophelia needed to get involved in an activity that would take her mind off of her problems. He had ulterior motives in that he wanted her to spend time with him. An advertisement for ballroom dancing caught his eye. He remembered how much he had enjoyed dancing back in his college days. Because of his legal practice, he hadn’t danced in years.

  Link persuaded Ophelia to join the class with him. She hesitated at first; other than African dancing with its free-flowing nature, she’d always had problems with other styles. It was as if she were born with two left feet. Link insisted, and finally wore her resistance down. He had to drag her there the first few weeks. As she slowly discovered that she did have skills and that Link was an amazing partner, she found herself looking forward to the class.

  With each time on the dance floor, their relationship matured. Link changed his entire schedule to accommodate the classes. They went from one to three times a week. Accustomed to working over eighty hours a week, it was the first time in his adult life that he made his personal life a priority. He never regretted his decision to spend more time with Ophelia. His life was now full with joy and laughter as it had never been before.

  The dance class helped take her mind off of Carlos, Javon, Jonathan, and the terrible events of last summer. She was so grateful for Link’s friendship. Friendship that evolved into a full-fledged romance.

  When the noon class was over, Link drove Ophelia to JFK airport to pick up Jonathan. Driving in his car, she glanced over at the lean, muscular, ruggedly handsome attorney and wondered why she had never considered him while Pops was alive. Since the dance class started, she realized the raw sexuality that oozed out of every pore of the man’s body. Had it always been there? All those years?

  She’d always thought that Eli would be the only passionate love in her life. She thought it only happened once in a lifetime. Ophelia was delightfully surprised to discover that after all the years since Eli, she was still a vital, hot-blooded woman…and Link was her mean, lean sex machine.

  With Link at her side, there were no more thoughts of bad times. No images of funerals, a dying child or mentally ill sons. There were no ghosts of Pops or Eli standing between them frowning down on their newfound love and romantic intimacy.

  She looked at her left hand at the big diamond engagement ring Link slipped on her finger a week ago when he proposed marriage. Without hesitation, Ophelia accepted. Link had business in Europe to take care of in July, so they decided to get married in Paris after the merger he was working on was completed.

  For their honeymoon, they both rearranged their schedules so that they could spend an entire month on the island of Oahu in Hawaii. Link had purchased a sprawling four-thousand-square-foot home with a private beach ten years ago. The busy attorney so rarely had free time to stay there that he rented it out to tourists. Wanting the villa to be in good condition when he and his new bride arrived, he hired an interior decorator to make sure everything was perfect for them.

  The traffic coming from JFK airport was not bad. It was a beautiful spring afternoon in late May. Summer was definitely in the air. Link had slept over the previous evening. Thinking about how they had made passionate love all night long, caused a stirring between Ophelia’s legs.

  She looked over at him. When Pops was alive, they all socialized together. Link would bring his girlfriends by the house, Ophelia always thought, for their approval. He dated very desirable, accomplished women. No matter how she or Pops tried to persuade him to settle down with one of them, he always eventually found something wrong with the women. He never kept a relationship longer than a year. Looking down at her ring again, she wondered if she was the reason for his bachelorhood all these years.

  Listening to him humming and watching him smiling as he drove his beloved jet-black Cadillac to the airport, she massaged his leg. His smile deepened as he quickly glanced his approval in her direction.

  “Link, I really enjoyed last night with you.” She caressed the growing firmness in his crotch. Link moaned out in pleasure.

  “You know what, Nurse Ophelia?”

  She leaned closer to him and replied in a sexy voice, “No, what?”

  “You are making one Southern boy very, very happy.”

  Jonathan enjoyed the ride back home from the airport with Uncle Link and his mom.

  “So you guys do all that old-fashioned fancy dancing?” Jonathan was curious about his mom and Uncle Link’s extracurricular activity.

  Link, proud about his and Ophelia’s shared love of the tango, yelled back at Jonathan, “You should see your mother on the dance floor.”

  “When I started, I had two left feet. Didn’t I, Link?”

  “Two left feet, for sure. And she kept stepping on both of mine!”

  “I did not!”

  “Yes, you did. I got the podiatry bills to prove it.”

  “You’re horrible, Link!”

  Link laughed out loud. He enjoyed teasing Ophelia.

  “Mama, you can’t dance. We always laughed at you when you tried, remember?”

  “You should see her now, Jonathan. She floats on the floor just like Ginger Rogers.”

  “And he’s definitely my dark-chocolate Fred Astaire.” They all shared a good laugh together.

  Later that evening, at the dinner table, with just him and his mom, Jonathan decided it was time to talk about serious things. While he was away at college, his mother had shared very little information about Carlos’s progress.

  “Mama, tomorrow I’m visiting with Tarik and Sherry.”

  “Wait ’til you see your new nephews…they are beautiful!”

  “I’m real eager for that. But, I want to see Carlos before I leave for school next week. I really didn’t want to go without seeing him. That is, if he’ll let me.”

  Tears welled up in Ophelia’s eyes. She only wished her boy was sane enough to refuse his visit. Carlos had been in and out of a catatonic stupor ever since he was committed to the psychiatric prison. She did not think Jonathan needed to see him like that. She knew he was still wrestling with his own demons. In his current state, seeing Carlos might reopen wounds for Jonathan. She didn’t know if it was worth the chance.

  “Hon, I don’t know if I can arrange that for you on such short notice.” Never a good liar, she turned her eyes away from Jonathan and said, “Visits have to be approved weeks in advance, and I don’t think…”

  “Mama Ophelia, I can always tell when you’re not being straight with me.”

  “But, but, Jonathan. Look, baby, Carlos is bad off; real bad. It’s not a pretty sight. Maybe, maybe next visit, when you come home for the summer. Then we’ll…”

  “Mama, I’m going to summer school. I’m not coming back for quite a while. Look, I need to see him. Please try and arrange it. Would you, please? For me?”

  Ophelia looked at her youngest son. She could tell from his pleading eyes that he needed this visit. It wouldn’t help Carlos, but maybe Jonathan needed to see him to help heal.

  “I’ll see what I can do. Maybe, maybe you and I will go and visit him on Monday.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Sherry hung the phone back into its cradle. So Jonathan was back in town for a short visit. Her feelings were so mixed she didn’t quite understand what her feelings were. Having him around made her think back to that horrible day. She never really blamed Jonathan, but he was part of the reason that Carlos snapped that day and ended her baby’s life.

  Nicola; that bitch. I shoulda killed her for all the trouble she caused in my family. Sherry still had nightmares about whipping her ass. Unresolved anger, left over from that day
, seeped back into her veins. Trying to practice what her co-counselor at the job had suggested, she quickly re-focused on what was happening in her life now. Sherry’s “now” was all about Tarik and her new babies. There ain’t no space in my world for Nicola or her shit!

  Pleased that she had successfully neutralized her anger, Sherry looked up at the wall clock. Tarik should burst through that door within the hour. He was always punctual. One o’clock in the morning. The twins were still asleep, but they’d wake up just before Tarik put his key in the door. They were on their daddy’s schedule.

  It was so hard to get the boys back to sleep. But since he’d started on the second CD three months ago, he’d missed seeing the boys during the day, and despite her protests, he still snuck in the room and woke the boys up. She gave up when she accepted the fact that she was married to a musician who kept crazy hours. Sherry rearranged the family’s schedule so that they could all spend that golden hour together when Tarik returned home from the studio.

  After Javon died, Tarik was almost obsessive about spending time with her and the boys when they were born. She knew he took responsibility for his death. He’d even said one night soon after he passed, that if he’d never met her, Javon would still be alive. She cursed his ass out the night he told her that. For even thinking something that stupid. It was such idiocy to her. But in the quiet of the morning hour, even she knew that what he had said did have an absurd ring of truth.

  But she never dwelt on those issues. Tarik’s guilt haunted them like demons. It took them months to tackle them together. But they were eager to get back to normal. The twins were on their way and they needed a healthy mommy and daddy to survive. She focused on Tarik, rather than her own demons. She had them, too. It was easier wrestling with his.

  Sipping on a glass of cranberry juice, Sherry plopped down on a recliner. Having Jonathan in town stirred up old feelings about the incident. She admitted to herself, that she’d never really grieved for her beloved baby. She knew why, too. He had never left. She still felt him. She sensed his presence especially strong when the babies were two months old. She’d catch the twins laughing and giggling in the room. The laughter was always too loud to be made by just two babies. She definitely heard a third, older giggle.

  She’d run in sometimes, expecting to see Javon, the sound was so convincingly his. She shared her thoughts with Tarik. He had also sensed the same presence in the house. They spied on the kids with the baby cam. They were both convinced the two infants were literally staring out as if there was someone with them. They agreed that Javon was watching over his brothers. It gave them comfort. It made Tarik’s thoughts about his responsibility in the matter, vanish. Sherry smiled to herself as she thought, In place of all that ugly guilt is our family’s love for each other…including Javon.

  Tarik looked at the car’s digital clock. It was two in the morning. He’d been coming home at this time for the past two months. Sherry was so understanding. He’d thought he had to do a lot of explaining. But no. She took it all in stride, and even stopped yelling at him when he snuck in and woke up the babies.

  After winning the Grammy for Best New Artist of the year and the MTV video award, he was busier than he wanted to be. He had to admit keeping his mind on the work did help him to avoid thinking about Javon so much. For that, he was grateful.

  He walked into the front door of the home he shared with his wife and two kids. He heard Sherry telling their five-month-old sons that it sounded like Daddy. The two, Nehemiah and Isaac, squealed with delight when he entered the nursery. Sherry greeted him with a warm kiss.

  “How the session go tonight, baby?”

  “Making real progress. Should be finished very soon. And then the tour.”

  “I can’t wait. These hours are so grueling. I know you want to spend more time with me and the kids.”

  He hugged Sherry tightly. “Soon; we’ll be together soon.”

  “Baby, don’t you know when we ain’t together, we together.”

  Tarik pulled back and looked at his woman. She was not only physically beautiful but inside she was the queen he worshipped. Looking at Sherry this way, as if seeing her for the first time, he made an important decision.

  “You know, woman, I absolutely love you.”

  “You’d better!” She playfully threw a punch at him.

  This loving feeling he had now with Sherry was real. It was good, rich, and special. Suddenly free from the weight of his guilt, he picked her up and playfully swung her around. The boys squealed with laughter

  “We’ll take a trip. Just you and me.”

  “What about the boys?”

  “That’s what nannies and grandmas are for. It’ll be like a second honeymoon.” The trip would be a reaffirmation for him. A cleansing after all the grief that was in their life. Later that night in bed, after making passionate love to each other, Sherry basked in the glow of their love.

  She remembered how she was in the beginning of the marriage. She never let her guard down. Didn’t even let him make love to her without a condom. But everything changed after the incident. After losing Javon, the closeness they’d always shared just deepened. She knew her man as she knew herself. They were one. The trust was pure. It was their blessing after losing their son.

  “Oh, forgot to tell you. Jonathan called.”

  “Haven’t spoken to him since he left for school.”

  “I invited him to Sunday brunch. You’ll be there, right?”

  When he’d last seen his brother before he’d left for school. he was still partially blaming him for what had happened to Javon. But now, in the light of the love he shared with Sherry, his new babies and the wonderful memories of a sweet four-year-old boy, he had no mixed emotions about Jonathan.

  “Not see my baby brother? Hell, I wouldn’t even think about missing it.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Jonathan felt extremely uncomfortable waiting in the visitor’s reception area. There were guards and orderlies posted everywhere overseeing the visits. He watched a female inmate bang her head against a table repeatedly as she shouted out profanities. Three orderlies pulled her away from the old couple who’d come to visit their granddaughter. They dragged her out of the room kicking and screaming. Jonathan turned to his mother.

  “How’s Carlos’s condition usually?”

  “When he’s on meds, he’s a…he’s a mess! Worse than the woman we just saw.”

  And it was true. Every time they found a combination of medications that brought him “back,” Carlos could not handle reality. It was always the same scene. He’d look at what remained of his penis and scream. Then he would rant and rave about Javon, and scream out for mercy, begging God to put him to death. He would try to mutilate himself with whatever objects he could find.

  The medical staff would discontinue the meds and he’d slip back into a walking coma. He was like a zombie. Most times when she visited Carlos, all he would do was stare out in to space. Unresponsive. He didn’t even blink when she would call out to him. It was torture for her to see him like that. Ophelia faithfully visited him every other week without fail. She never gave up hope that one day he would come back.

  Jonathan shuddered to think that Carlos acted out like the woman he had just seen. Quickly wanting to reassure him, Ophelia added, “But he’s off meds now, and here of late, he’s usually just quiet. Very quiet.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “Well, it depends. Here he is now.”

  Jonathan turned around. Two guards and a doctor led Carlos into the area. Both his hands and feet were in chains and he wore drab prison attire. Jonathan called out to him.

  “Carlos. Hey, man…it’s me…Jonathan.”

  But as soon as Jonathan saw him up close, he realized that he was talking to a zombie. There were no signs of life or brain activity in his face. Carlos never looked his way. Never even looked at his mother. Jonathan could not believe it. His once gregarious, cocky brother was now a card-carrying me
mber of the walking dead society.

  Tears flooded his eyes when the enormity of Carlos’s condition and how sick he really was finally smacked Jonathan upside his head. The guard led Carlos to a chair across from where Jonathan and Ophelia were sitting. They pushed him down, not hard but deliberately into a chair. Carlos never acknowledged anyone’s presence in the room. He just stared out into space. He was there but he really was not.

  Jonathan desperately tried to connect with him again. “Carlos. How you doing? It’s me, Jonathan…talk to me…yell at me…something, man…anything!”

  Ophelia put her hand over Jonathan’s and shook her head, signaling for him to calm down. Jonathan sat back in the chair. Nothing could have prepared him for this. Jonathan broke down and cried out to himself: Is this what Nicola and I did to him? We should both rot in hell.

  “Hello, Carlos. It’s Mama Ophelia. I’ve brought Jonathan to visit. You know Jonathan.” Carlos never looked at them. He just rocked in his chair and stared out into space. He was in another time zone.

  Not giving up, Ophelia continued, “Carlos, baby, how are you today?” She spoke to him as if he understood her. She talked with him as if he was listening. He never even grunted in response. This non-person who greeted her on visits. Sometimes she got angry with him, thinking that maybe he wasn’t trying hard enough.

  Angry or not, she still visited and spoke to him just like folks did to comatose victims, hoping that somewhere there was a sane part of Carlos listening. She kept faith that one day that part would strengthen and regain control.

  Jonathan couldn’t stand to see Carlos in his present condition. He’d expected his visit might agitate Carlos. He anticipated that Carlos might still be angry with him. He could handle that. But he could not deal with the vegetable who sat rocking in the chair as if he was trapped in a dense mental fog.