by ROBERT LABOO
T.H Huxley said, “The consequences of our actions are the scarecrows of fools and the beacons of wise men.” So it’s okay to be stumbled by your short comings, just never let them floor you. They should guide you through the worst of circumstances. Men gravitate towards what easiest for them even if it comes with the harshest conditions. When they should lean towards what’s hardest because the outcome is usually more gratifying. As Benji reads, Warrior of The Light by Paulo Coelho, he gets to a page that intrigues him. Paulo says, “A Warrior of the Light knows that certain moments repeat themselves. He often finds himself faced by the same problems and situations, and seeing these difficult situations return, he grows depressed, thinking that he is incapable of making any progress in life. “I’ve been through all this before,” he says to his heart. “Yes, you have been through all this before,” replies his heart. ‘But you have never been beyond it.’ Then the Warrior realizes that these repeated experience have but one aim: to teach him what he does not want to learn.” Reading this passage out the book, just confirmed what Sakinah told him in his dream. He didn’t want to wake up, it’s been so long since he’s been next to her. It’s depressing when you can only find solace in your dreams. As he reads Lay Lows last text message from the morning he died, Sakinah’s sentiments were almost identical to his friends.
“Ru, Gm bruh. I don’t wanna hear no funny shit about me being soft lol. But I’m proud of you and envious of you at the same time. You packed up and left this nonsense behind you without a fear. Not fear of consequences, but fear of how you would be viewed, by Blood, by the streets or by me. That took a strength I could never have. I finally became somebody to someone when we became what we was. What I am. Even then I don’t think you ever needed this gang shit to be you. So that could only mean you loved me enough to follow my lead. I appreciate it Ru. Even tho I’m older, you might not have recognized it but I always needed to know you approved and that’s what motivated me. To be honest at one point it felt like you left me. I was bitter. Now, I ride around in my g-ride solo and realize I left you. My passenger seat empty because everything else was more important then my brother. I say all that to say, it’s about to be us again. Let me tie up these loose ends and they could have the streets after that. I was wrong too. Maybe ol’girl can be your peace in this crazy world. Hold on to her, only an idiot denies peace. Dont reply I just wanted to get my thoughts out. Meet me at The Office later, Sangria on me, Dubs!” Who on earth could have guessed that this would be their last correspondence? After all Benji’s preaching, Lay Low finally saw the light, and in a matter of minutes someone turned it out.
In a place only a half hour away from Newark but a whole other world away stood a city called Livingston. Many influential people reside in this town. The peace and calm that overtakes a person as they enter this city is a feeling a dweller of Newark would die for. What type of person would trade the environment, great schools and opportunities, only offered to the elitist, for shoot outs and prison sentences? You can smell the money before you even see it. In Newark, the acidic smell of gun powder is so strong it singes the nose hairs and a blind man could see how poor it is. What type of person would trade that? This question is the one most repetitive in Myyonna’s mind as she sits on the outrageously hard bench in the Essex County Courthouse. She prays the scent of the previous occupants doesn’t settle into her designer jeans. She removed herself from this city over ten years ago, turning her back to her past and those who were once a part of it, including her son’s father. Who’s influence, she’s sure, is the reason why she is sitting at this arraignment. At forty-four she is still as beautiful as the young woman she was when she fell I love with Stephon. He was the thug everyone wanted to bed for the rest of their lives. She was the one he chose, unfortunately. She at one time was unrelentingly chasing college to pursue a career in the medical field. Stephon on the other hand was chasing street fame. The simplest things about him created a moisture in her pants. His stance, the way he smoked, his attire, his demeanor. But the way he looked at her, like if given the chance he would suck her soul through her vagina, melted her. So one day when she was feeling brave enough, or through the pressure of her peers, she gave him that chance. This was the most thrilling experience of her life, but quite possibly the worst decision she ever made. She was hooked. He was so submerged in the street culture that he failed to see how a beautiful woman hidden in the hospital all day could raise his worth in the street’s eyes. He wasn’t searching for stability only credibility. What was the purpose of winning a trophy if you weren’t going to put it on display? He convinced Myyonna that her dreams were for average people and wasn’t equivalent to their lifestyle. By this time he already turned her against her entire family, so he was all she had. Her mind was clay which he molded to his liking. This love she held for him eventually had her on stage dancing for dollars to put him back on his feet. Every night he sat back in the strip club watching men drool over his greatest asset. He began to view her as a cash cow instead of his other half. When she found out she was four weeks pregnant he tried to convince her to abort it. All they used to talk about was kids, now it was reality. He couldn’t imagine going nine months without the nightly income he’d become accustomed to. With nowhere else to turn she continued dancing for another month. Her feelings for Stephon waning daily created an emptiness in her. Stephon didn’t feel it necessary to watch over her anymore. His absence left room for the young business man, who saw her worth, to talk to her. He eventually saved her from the unhealthy relationship and lifestyle. He promised to accept her and her unborn child as if it were his own. He never broke his promise. They created a transportation company and never looked back. Her son was raised in Newark until they were able to be well off enough financially to move away. Once in Livingston, they found the best school for him. He ran back to Newark every moment he could over the past ten years. Begging to move in with his father, he was denied. He despised his mother for this. Now as he stands in front of the judge with his attorney, paid for by his mother, she’s the only one there. “Your honor his charges are first degree murder, first degree robbery, first degree felony murder, second degree weapon possession. I mean the list goes on. I can’t understand how the defense can ask for a more lenient bail when he shouldn’t even be allowed a bail,” the red faced prosecutor states.
“Duly noted,” says the judge. “However, I will set bail for $750,000 cash only. Marshon Welch you are to return back in front of this court should you be indicted. Next case.” Munch looks into his mother’s face and watches the tears fall freely as she shakes her head in dismay. Guilt grips his heart.
“God blessed you,” the man said. “Where ever you go people just follow you. They gravitate towards your swagger, adopt you ideology, emulate you character and admire your stance. They treat your words as if they’re water and the world’s a desert. Nine out of every ten people around you will die for you, including me. I don’t even know why. But, I do know wherever you are taking us is where we need to be. So I’m not complaining. That’s a gift.”
Benji remembers these words that were spoken to him and weighs their value. He sits quietly and looks at his Misfits. All which are staring at him with the zeal of cult follower. Is he the leader they deserve or the stand in they’re grasping onto while they await something greater? If he is the something greater, where is he taking them? Lenae smiles at him with certainty radiating from her. This breaks him and strengthens him at the same time. Though he feels unworthy of being their leader, he understands leaving them to fend for self in this world is a travesty.
“If I seem distant this weekend, I apologize. I lost a close friend, more like a brother. We always rap with each other on a straight up level and I would never disrespect you by being coy with my thoughts or feelings. I feel like y’all look to me for guidance. The unwavering faith I see in y’all eyes hurts my heart because I don’t have that faith in me. The questions you ask, I don’t have all the answers for. How do y’a
ll feel so comfortable with that? How do you follow somebody who can’t be certain of their own way?”
The group of teens look around at each other for the proper answer. Searching one another’s faces for a hint of what should be said. Their unshakable faith in Benji was beginning to tremble after his questions. No one had an answer. After all that Mr. Cooper showed them they went quiet. Lenae never abhorred this group more than she did at this moment. He was practically begging them for a reason to go on. A stronghold for him to place his footing. He showed them through their darkest moments and they’re not even willing to grab his hand to pull him up. “I follow you for that exact reason,” she says. “Every other adult wants us to believe they know so much more than we do. But you make us equal. We all learn from each other. It’s like everything was dark for us, well me. I’m gonna keep this on the ’I’, because apparently I’m the only one who’s benefitting from your presence. Everything was dark for me and you brought a much needed light to my life. Before I felt like it wasn’t much I could do, now I feel as if it’s nothing I can’t do. So your question shouldn’t be why are we following you, it should be why wouldn’t we follow you?”
“You never lie to us,” someone else says.
“We can relate to you,” comes another.
“You make me want more when I used to want nothing at all.”
Once Lenae responded it was like setting a match to a gasoline-soaked rag. She set the class ablaze. The state of elation Benji felt exiting Misfits Inc. was indescribable. To know he was having an effect on his group that equaled up to half of the affect they’re having on him was more than enough to assure he was on the right path. No one outside of Sakinah ever believed he could change. This positive twist he was on was just a ruse to mislead the authorities, to outsiders looking in. Now here he was really making a difference even it was so small. As he walked to his van, he paid little attention to the occupied unmarked car parked across the street. Their presence was just a passing acknowledgement. The thoughts in his mind made the drive home relatively short. Routine navigated him to his house because his brain was elsewhere. Pulling into his driveway his smile never faded. That was until he got out his car and set his eyes on a sight that barely gained a glance from him twenty minutes ago. The navy blue Chevrolet Impala that was sitting in front of Misfits Inc. moments ago was now parking across the street from his place of rest. He’s being shown none to subtly that he’s on their radar. Nervousness settles into his bones. At this point in time he’s a law abiding citizen. But the law’s memory goes back further than “this point”, so fear is the only suitable thing to feel right now.
CHAPTER 23
Time passes at a snail’s pace as Suffiyah and Lee Lee sit in the waiting room of Child Services. Once called DYFS, the department of youth and family services, this place should hold some of the answers she’s in need of.
“Suffiyah Adams?” the receptionist calls out. She and Lee Lee stand and approach the desk.
“Good Morning?”
“Good Morning. Mrs. Walters will see you now. Straight through that door.” They pass through the hallway until they come upon an open door. A woman with agitation written on her face sits behind the cheap desk shuffling mounds of paper. Suffiyah knocks softly on the open door. She barely glances up from the paperwork.
“What can I do for you?”
“My name is Suffiyah Adams. I’m trying to obtain a copy of my file from foster care.”
“How old are you, Ms. Adams?”
“Thirty three.” Mrs. Walters now looks fully in her direction for the first time. She has the appearance of a person running off of very more than fumes. Frown lines crease her face. Suffiyah’s only known her for a few seconds but she doesn’t think this is a woman who smiles often.
“Thirty-three years?” Sarcasm is dripping from the question. “Ms. Adams, do you see this desk full of papers?” Suffiyah now looks at the multiple folders on her desk. Some are inches thick and they spread from one end to the other. “These are files from the past few months. If I had to pull files from thirty-three years ago there would be no room for me in this office. I get very little rest worrying over recent cases. To jump back thirty years would be to swear off sleep altogether. Leave your number with reception and we’ll get in touch with you in a few weeks with any results,” her tone says ‘dismissed.’
“Thank you,” Suffiyah replies with all the manners she can muster. Mrs. Walters eyes her back as she exits.
Sonya looks at her screen in disbelief at what its showing. This has to be an omen from a higher power. She was on the brink of calling it quits on this case. As much ambition as she has, her energy doesn’t match. She’s running around searching for invisible clues and nothing appears. Her feet are swollen two times their normal size. The worst part of this case is sitting on her left side.
“You going to answer that phone or keep staring at it like it’s a unicorn?” Detective Lewis asks as if he sensed her thoughts of him. Instant aggravation plasters her mug as it does whenever he speaks. His presence irks her soul to no end. But he’s just an impediment placed on her road to greatness. Fate wants to test her determination to reach her goal.
“It’s not an important call,” she snaps.
Her face heats up as she feels him eye balling her. It’s unnecessary looking over to see the ugly smirk that she knows is present. She refuses to let his aura rob her of this small victory. Her only chance of getting anywhere on this case was Suffiyah. So her number popping up across the screen was a godsend. Her fingers text quickly in reply to the missed call. Can’t talk right now, Sufee. I’ll return your call when I’m alone.
What is she up to?
With all of this police training under her belt, Suffiyah hasn’t once noticed the car that’s been tailing her for days. The killer watched her and her friend disappear into the building which houses many state jobs. His first guess was she was seeking employment. But she isn’t dressed for an interview, nor would she be accompanied by Alicia. She has to have an appointment in there somewhere. But where? Patience is a virtue and he has an abundance of it. He reclines his chair and awaits his quarry. Fear of being sighted by her is the only thing that keeps him inside the car. How would he explain his presence? Only thing that would do is cause suspicion. After about an hour they finally exit the building. Neither woman looking too enthused. He looks at the cameras on his passenger seat and wishes it was an eavesdropping device instead. He would give his right eye to hear their current conversation. Realization covers his face suddenly. He might not be able to hear their conversation but he could find out why they were there. He allows them to pull off before exiting the van. There’s a desk in the middle of the lobby upon entering. A woman stands behind it doing check-ins on visitors. Any nervousness he felt recedes upon seeing a female. God hasn’t created the woman who can resist him.
“Good Morning?” He smiles flirtatiously. The woman’s hands automatically adjust her hair as she takes in the treat in front of her.
“Good Morning, Sir. How may I help you?” she asks in her sweetest voice. He just stares at her in open lust. Her face flushes from embarrassment. “Sir?” she says snatching him from the hypnosis she has him under.
“Uh, excuse me. I just…You have beautiful eyes.”
“Thank you, but don’t get lost in them you might not come back.”
“You’re right, I almost forgot why I came here. Can you direct me to Child Services?” he says. It’s the only office he knows of in this building to ask for and not look weird. “You looking to adopt?” she asks nosily as she grabs the sign in book to pass him. He allows his fingers to linger on hers as he grabs the book while looking in her face.
“No, I’m more of a traditionalist. I want my first baby the old fashioned way.” Her mouth opens wide but words fail her. “Can I have a pen please?”
“Oh, sorry,” she replies momentarily discombobulated. “I need your I.D, Mr.?”
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��Brown,” he says reaching for his wallet. He taps his empty pockets in search of his wallet. “Pardon me, beautiful. I seem to have left my wallet in the car. Let me grab it and I’ll be right back.” he says backing from the desk. Luck was on his side. Her name was on the first page of the sign in sheet that was passed to him. But why in the hell was she seeing child services?
“Hey Momma!” Sonya hugs Suffiyah as soon as she walks through the doors of Applebee’s. She texted Suffiyah to meet her here after work. All roads to solving this case lead back to Suffiyah. “This is my friend Alicia that I always talk about.” Lee Lee extends her hand out of courtesy, but it’s something about this cop that rubs her wrong.
“All I ever heard is ‘Lee Lee this’ and ‘Lee Lee that’. I feel like I’ve known you forever.” The statement comes across as phony as the smile on her face. “Table for three, please?”
“Right this way.” The hostess leads them to a booth.
After she walks off, Suffiyah speaks, “Thanks for meeting me, Sonya. I had no one else to turn to that I could trust. So much has transpired over the past year it’s weighing me down.”
“Sufee, you know I’ve always been in your corner. Whatever you need me for, I’m here.”