by D. L. Sparks
Then I was stunned. “So just like that, huh? You gon’ treat me like shit, and my grandmother is lying in there, dying?”
“Treat you like shit, Idalis?” He let out a slight chuckle. “Wow. You got life fucked up—you really do.”
I turned to go back into the room and he grabbed my arm. “Where are you going?”
“You know what? I don’t really care what you do anymore,” I said through clenched teeth. “Just go.” I snatched my arm free.
He stared at me for a moment before turning and heading down the hall. I stood there and watched him leave. I could feel the nurses’ eyes on me. I could even hear their whispers, but I didn’t care at this point.
I checked on my mother before leaving to clear my head. I ended up leaving the hospital and making my way to Chick-fil-A and getting a chicken sandwich and some lemonade. There were too many people in the restaurant, so I decided to eat in my car in the parking lot. I backed my car into the space so I could people watch and try to take my mind off my grandmother.
Every so often I would check my cell phone: nothing but the time and that stupid signal tower were staring back at me. The small restaurant was overrun with hospital visitors, who probably all felt the same way I did about the food they served up in the cafeteria.
Most were getting their dinners to go; some were staying to escape the heavy atmosphere that awaited them up the street, but they all were linked in a way that far exceeded the chicken sandwiches that they carried.
I sipped my lemonade and picked at my sandwich as I stared out my car window at the people going about their day. The proverbial traffic jam that was Piedmont Avenue was holding true to that today. I looked down at the engagement ring resting on my all-important left ring finger and thought about the history that Lincoln and I were supposed to be in the middle of making. So much had changed in less than a week. My life was turning into a train wreck right in front of my eyes; there was nothing I could do to stop the fallout.
I dialed Trip.
Relief washed over me when I heard his voice come across the line.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked.
I pressed my phone against my ear, my sad attempt to feel closer to him. “She’s bad, Trip.”
“I’m so sorry, baby girl. Do you need anything?”
“Yes, I need my grandmother not to be dying,” I said, wiping away a stray tear.
“I know.”
“How’s Phil?”
It was his turn to carry the weight. “He’s doing good. Still unconscious. Breathing tube is coming out today.”
“Wow. That’s good news.”
“Yeah, it is.”
I swallowed, rearranged the words in my head and hoped they made sense when they exited my mouth. “Trip, I’m really sorry.”
“For what?”
“For everything.”
“What are you talking about, Idalis?”
“For pretty much all my life, you’ve been there for me, no matter what the cost.” I took a deep breath and tried to steady my voice. “I mean, when we were little, you would make sure I was okay, even when you knew you were going to get in trouble ...”
“Idalis—”
I cut him off. “Let me finish. If it wasn’t for me, you would’ve gotten that call from Phil and you would’ve been there for him. It’s my fault. It’s always my fault.”
“No, it’s not, Idalis.”
“Yes, it is!” I sobbed into the phone. “And now, being the selfish person that I am ... I was calling you ... again ... to get you to save me again. To make this hurt go away.”
“Don’t do this, Idalis. Not now.”
“Why? Why not? It’s true. I’m getting what I deserve.”
His voice, calm and steady, held so much love. “You think you deserve to have your grandmother die baby girl?”
I grabbed a napkin and wiped my face. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“Idalis, if you try to make what’s happening to your grandmother about you, then yes, that is selfish, but that’s not you. That’s not the Idalis I know.”
“I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m just not the same Idalis Arrington that you grew up with.”
My phone beeped in my ear and I looked at the screen. It was India.
“Trip, I have to go. It’s India. I’ll call you back.”
“Make sure you do.”
I didn’t even remember driving back to the hospital.
India called and told me that Grammie was asking for me. Fresh tears spilled from my already swollen eyelids in waves as I navigated my way back up Piedmont to the hospital. I brushed past a group of people huddled in the lobby; they were cooing over a woman who was holding a newborn. As I made my way onto the elevator, I ignored a nurse who asked if I was okay. I stood perfectly still in the elevator, promising God things that didn’t even make sense if He’d just spare my grandmother. The doors hissed open and I stood frozen.
A voice came from behind me. “Is this the floor you wanted?”
I turned around in a haze of grief and looked into the distinguished white man’s face standing behind me. His dark hair was starting to gray around the temples and he was freshly shaven. His dark suit and stark blue tie brought out the color in his piercing blue eyes.
Not sure why I noticed that, but I did.
He reached around and pushed the button to hold the door open, causing his cologne to swirl around me.
He repeated himself. “Is this your floor?”
“Uh ... I’m sorry. Yes, this is my floor.” I turned and stepped off the elevator.
When I got to my grandmother’s room, my mother was staring out the window and India was standing next to the bed, trying to hide her tears. I walked toward her and touched my mother’s shoulder.
Without turning around she spoke. “They took the tube out. She’s asking for you.”
Mama hugged me before leaving with India, leaving me alone in the room with my grandmother.
Grammie was so fragile and so small.
I moved to her bedside and touched her hand.
The coolness of her skin caught me off guard. Her eyes opened slowly and she smiled when she saw me. I tried to will the tears to stop, but they wouldn’t. Her gaze moved to the chair, motioning for me to sit down. On shaky legs I did as I was told, never taking my eyes from her face.
“Grammie, are you in pain?”
Her voice was raspy and low. “No, baby, but you are.”
That caused me to cry harder; my shoulders shook, but I kept hold of her hand.
“I can’t handle this.”
“Yes, you can, baby. You need to make things right with your sister. You hear me, child?”
I slowly shook my head. “I don’t know if I can. I need you Grammie.”
“Yes, you can, baby.” She cleared her throat. “I will always be with you, watching over you all. You know that. It’s time, baby. My soul is tired.”
“But I need you. We need you.” I sobbed.
“Idalis,” her voice was stern, causing me to sit up a little straighter. “You make things right, for you and that baby. You hear me? Make it right.”
My heart shattered.
I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I love you, baby.”
“I love you too, Grammie.”
I leaned over onto her bed and hugged her, willing death to go away and find someone else’s grandmother. I wasn’t strong enough to go on without mine.
Minutes slipped by, taking a piece of my grandmother with it each time. I laid my head on her chest and she stroked my hair, calming me, humming a song, which only she knew. After a while I finally sat up and hit the buzzer for the nurse. The thin white lady appeared almost instantly, wearing a comforting smile.
“Can I help you?”
I wiped my face and took a deep breath. “I haven’t heard my grandmother take a breath in the last few minutes.”
She
gave me a small sympathetic nod and left the room.
Almost two hours later, I was stuck on autopilot.
I drove I-285 in a tear-induced haze with no real direction in mind. I knew India had taken Mama with her, but I didn’t remember leaving the hospital. I had a Tazo Green Tea Latte from Starbucks in my cup holder, but didn’t remember getting off on Camp Creek and going through the drive-through. I pulled into a parking space and called a few relatives and told them what had happened. In between talking to relatives and calling the house to check on my mother and sister, I called and talked to Lincoln. I wasn’t ready to go home and deal with the emotions that were waiting there for me, so I merged back onto I-285 and headed toward Greenbriar.
On my way to 404, I tried to imagine burying my grandmother. I conjured up images of a church filled with grief. An atmosphere so thick with sadness that it threatened to choke everyone in its midst. My mind conjured images of a packed church, wall to wall flowers, the coffin; all of it was there, everything except my grandmother.
I parked my car near the door and headed inside. It was early and the DJ was just setting up.Dionne smiled when she saw me.
“Can I get a Heineken?” I slid onto one of the stools.
She popped the cap off the green bottle and slid it toward me. “How you doing? How’s your grandmother?”
I stared at the tiny white napkin that my bottle rested on; then I looked up at her. “She passed this afternoon.”
Dionne made her way around the bar and wrapped her arms around me. “I’m so sorry, Idalis.”
“Thank you.”
She took the stool next to me. “How’s your mom and sister?”
“They’re okay. India is at my mom’s with her and Cameron.”
“Do you need anything?”
I shook my head. “I just wasn’t ready to go home yet, needed to clear my head.”
“I understand.”
Dionne had lost her mother about a year ago, so I knew if anyone could understand what I was going through, it would be her.
I looked around the club. “I hope it picks up.”
“It will.” She looked at her watch. “It’s still early, Si-Man isn’t even here yet.”
I let out a sigh and took a long draw of my beer. “I can’t believe this is happening. It just amazes me how quickly sugar can go to shit.”
“That’s true, but your grandmother lived a full life. She was in a lot of pain too. She’s definitely better off.”
I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I just wish I could’ve had her a little while longer.”
“Idalis, you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
“Sometimes I’m not too sure about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve made some mistakes—mistakes that I’m not sure I am strong enough to correct. And when I looked at her, I always seemed to find the strength I needed to push forward.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “And now ... she’s gone. I don’t know what to do.”
Dionne touched my hand. “No, she’s not gone, Idalis.” She took my hand and placed it over my heart. “She’s right here.”
We both had matching sets of tears rolling down our faces.
She continued speaking. “There is nothing that you could’ve done that would’ve made her love you any less or that you can’t fix. You just have to believe you can.”
I slid down off my stool. “It’s not that simple.”
“Don’t do this to yourself, Idalis.”
I hugged her. “I’ll call you tomorrow. I need to stop by my house and grab some things before I head back to Mama’s.”
“Okay. Call me if you need anything, I mean it. Idalis, you do know that sometimes people complicate things much more than they need to be.”
I threw a ten-dollar bill on the bar.
“Yeah, and sometimes people get what they deserve.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Trip
“Any word on the missing informant?”
I shoved my BlackBerry back in its holster and turned to Lenny.
“No. I got a couple agents watching his house. Hopefully, he’ll turn up soon.”
We were all at the station going over what had been found at the scene where Phil had been shot. My blood boiled as I looked at the pictures hanging up on the corkboard.
Lenny sat down on the corner of one of the empty desks. “We got another call this morning.”
“From where?”
“Fulton Industrial.”
I asked, “Related?”
“Not sure right now,” he said, voice heavy with frustration. Lenny stood up and looked around the room at the agents. “I need you fellas to wrap this up, and do it fast.”
I cut my eyes at him. “What do you think we’re trying to do?”
“I understand, but this is getting out of control. Phil’s in the hospital and informants are disappearing.”
Ever since the doctors had taken Phil’s breathing tube out, we were waiting for him to wake up and tell us something, anything that might give a clue into what had happened during that bust. But more than anything, I wanted to get my hands on whoever had put my partner in a hospital bed. We’d been partners for over five years, and neither one of us had been so much as grazed by a bullet. Something we both were damn proud of up until now.
I walked over to the board and scanned the pictures of the deceased men. Out of all the dead bodies at the scene, we were only able to ID two so far. Both were small-time dealers, one went by the name of Twist. We were still waiting on IDs for the others. My eyes locked on one in particular. His face was twisted in pain. The last thing he felt before he died. His large white tee was soaked with blood from the rounds that Phil managed to pump into his chest before he went down.
“What did they find?” I asked one of the agents taking notes.
“Got a cell off one of the guys in the living-room, but it’s busted. Hopefully, the lab can pull something from it. Couple bags of X, some bricks that are being processed to see if they match the original bust.”
“Whose apartment was it?” I asked, sitting on the corner of a desk.
The reason I asked was because I knew that “dead and deader” on the floor probably weren’t listed on the lease.
“Some woman named Denise Chambers. Witnesses are saying she was a crackhead who sold and used out of her apartment.”
I looked around. “Anyone know where she is?”
“Nobody knows,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Of course not.” The phone on the desk I was leaning against rang. I picked it up. “This isn’t my desk,” I said before hanging it up again.
“We got some officers tracking her down now,” one of the officers said.
I nodded. “Good.”
This case was all over the place, and it didn’t seem like there was an end in sight. It seemed like one simple drug bust had opened up an enormous can of worms, which none of us had been prepared for. But there was no way I was gonna let Phil’s ending up in the hospital be for nothing.
Lenny stood up, signaling the end of our meeting.
“All right, gentlemen, I need you to do what you do, but I need you to do it faster. Let’s get Phil home.”
We all filed out of the room. My body was heavy as I made my way back to the truck.
I rolled the driver’s-side window down and stared out into the parking lot, watching the people moving up and down Spring Street. Some were on their cells; others were rushing to and from work. They were all oblivious to what was going on in the dark corners of the city that no one dared to go in.
No one but us.
Before heading to the hospital, I decided to stop by the scene from the call that came in this morning. When I pulled up, there was still a crowd of people standing around. Some were hugging each other; others were snapping pictures with their cell phones.
I scanned the crowd and saw two women who were crying relentlessly. Judging from their ages, an
d the fact that one was pregnant and had a small child clinging to her leg, I figured they were girlfriends of the victims. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them and the kids. The dead bodies in that apartment were probably their only source of support.
Sadly, this was the only life some of them would ever know.
I took a deep breath and realized I didn’t have the energy for this.
Not today.
I would never admit it, but it was like we were fighting a losing battle.
It wasn’t the war on drugs. It seemed more like the war against us. No faster than we would kick in a door, another one would go up. Phil would always just laugh and say, “Guess we gotta make sure we keep a good supply of boots.”
Atlanta would have to actually do some work for once. I made a U-turn out of the parking lot. If they found anything worth anything, they would let us know. I hadn’t heard from Idalis, and as much as I hated to admit it, it bothered me.
Just as I pulled out onto Fulton Industrial, my phone rang. My mother’s number came across the display.
“Hey, Mama, what’s up?”
“Hey, baby. I got some bad news.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Idalis.” My mother’s voice wavered. “Her grandmother passed this afternoon.”
I slumped back in my seat. “What?”
“It was sudden.”
I merged onto I-20. “I’m on my way over there.”
Even though the streets were calm, I was barely maintaining the speed limit. The dark sky was tiled with rain clouds, mimicking how I felt. They all looked on the verge of bursting and raining down, saturating the city with bottled-up frustration. The highway raced by me, miles at a time. I felt my tires lose a little bit of traction on the damp pavement, but that didn’t slow my momentum.
Ever since I had crossed the state line, this place had held nothing but frustration. I was ready to get the hell out of town.
I pulled out my phone and dialed her mother’s home number. I figured she would be there. My heart rate doubled when the phone started ringing. Just when I was about to hang up, she answered.
“Idalis?”
“No, this is India. She’s asleep.”