Saving Her Shadow

by Lutishia Lovely

  “I have what I need to make your life difficult.”

  “Are you threatening me?” Raina paused, took a breath. Now was not the time to go off. “I probably don’t have to tell you this, but Roslyn is very impressed with all you’ve accomplished. She told me you were attending advanced elder classes this year. She’ll be in Tulsa this summer, too, becoming a Vessel-In-Waiting.”

  Dennis acted as though he hadn’t heard her. “It would be to your benefit to reconsider my offer.”

  “We’ve known each other forever, Dennis. You’re a good guy who’ll go far in the ministry. But we are not a match.”

  “Is that your final answer?”

  “Keep shining,” she whispered, before turning around and walking away. She hoped indeed it was a bluff that she’d called and he had no solid evidence of her treachery. Because if her sneaking off with an unsanctioned cost her father his promotion, there would be hell to pay.

  Chapter 7

  When confronted by Dennis, Raina played it cool. But his threat had spooked her, left her paranoid. It wasn’t enough for her to abandon her normal life, but she became much more covert. The week of their confrontation she didn’t change clothes or go over to Jackie’s house. Instead they met in the library, as she’d told her dad they would. She saw Bryce, but only from a distance, as he pulled into the circular drive to pick up Jackie or one of his friends while on a delivery route. That’s not to say they were not communicative. They did their share of flexting—flirty texting—from morning to night. Raina loved the word play and hated to delete them. But she did. Every night. Faithfully. She kept her other life on the low for almost a month, until the chance of a lifetime fell into her lap.

  Like most young, urban men between the ages of ten and twenty-something, Bryce was a member of the hip-hop community and when he wasn’t driving around Chippewa or neighboring towns delivering orders, dabbled in rap. He was actually pretty good, had produced a couple beats used by regional talent. His friend since childhood, Kaleb Clark, no relation to Bryce Clark, had taken the art more seriously and now, at the ripe old age of twenty-two, had established a solid regional following in the Midwest. Using the name KCK, the initials of where he was born, Kaleb touched a nerve among millennials with sometimes fun, sometimes poignant, but always creative ditties about growing up poor, chasing one’s dreams, holding it down for the neighborhood, and breathing while Black. On this particular Friday KCK was shooting a video two hours away, in Kansas City, Missouri, and he’d pulled in two of the nation’s most popular artists to be featured on the track—Sniper and Shanghai. A huge rap artist in the early 2000s, Sniper was a perfect mixture of street and style, known for wearing suits and Italian loafers to spit his rhymes on stage at a time his cohorts were rocking low-riding jeans, boots, and bad attitudes. Raina had only been seven years old when he scored his biggest hit, the one that would place him in the annals of time, but she clearly remembered when everybody in the world was chanting, “booyah, do-yah, woo-sah!” Shanghai was only seventeen, but the interracial phenom had been making waves in the industry for the past two years by breathing a nouveau kind of life into old-school R & B. She was, hands down, Raina’s favorite contemporary artist. So when Jackie asked if she wanted to skip school to go to KC and be in the video, there was only one answer that Raina could give them. Yes.

  It took full-scale strategizing and every aspect had to be carefully planned, but when Raina snuck off school grounds that cool morning on the last Friday in January, she felt she’d dotted every i and crossed every t. Instead of skipping school straight out and risking a phone call home to her mom, she’d faked a note from Jennifer requesting that Raina be excused for the day. The vice principal accepted the note and approved the absence with no questions asked. Raina was one of their top students, a good, religious girl, even if in most outsiders’ eyes the religion was whack. She’d never skipped school or lied to her teachers. Excused from classes. Check!

  With Dennis aware of her gym route exit, Raina didn’t chance meeting the gang in the alley. Instead, when Jennifer dropped her off that morning, she walked into the school and straight out the back door next to the cafeteria. With the hood of a new parka pulled tight around her face and a scarf covering the entire lower portion, she hung a quick right and, partially hidden by a large row of pine trees, hugged the building until reaching the corner. There she crossed the street and hurried into Joe’s Groceries. If anyone had watched her quick exit and followed her strange moves, they would have seen that her final destination was to grab a snack before class. What she hoped was that they wouldn’t have time to notice that she didn’t exit from the door she’d entered. After a quick wave to the guy at the meat counter, the older brother of a student athlete she tutored online, she was led down a short hall to the store’s back door and let out. A familiar shiny car idled less than half a block down. A clean school getaway. Check! Bryce must have been watching for her because as soon as she began walking toward the car, it inched along the street to meet her. She hurriedly opened the door and slid into the back seat, rubbing her hands together, her voice husky with nervous excitement.

  “Hey, everybody!”

  “Hey, girl,” Jackie greeted, from the far side of the car.

  “Morning,” Larry said, his attention on the cell phone cradled between his hands.

  Monica shifted her body to provide more room. “Hi, Raina. Glad you made it.”

  “What’s up, Rainbow?” Bryce drawled, with a quick glance over his shoulder. He chuckled.

  Raina slunk down in the seat—parka hood still low, scarf still securely wrapped. She pulled out her phone to complete the last portion of her coverup. “What’s funny?”

  “You, girl.” Bryce shook his head, still laughing as he pulled away from the curb and headed toward Main Street and the highway entrance on the edge of town. “Back there all slouched down with your face hidden, looking like you’re about to do a drive-by.”

  Larry pulled down the visor and looked at Raina from the attached mirror. “Ha! Stop acting like a plantation runaway. You’se free now,” he continued in a falsetto voice.

  “Almost to the highway,” Bryce added.

  “I am running, in a way,” Raina countered. “And we’re not on the highway yet.”

  Jackie turned toward Raina. “You ended up not writing out the excuse in your mother’s name?”

  “I did, but since it’s fake, I technically skipped school.”

  “See, getting technical.” Bryce tapped the stereo screen. “That’s your problem.”

  “Be quiet! I’m texting my mom.”

  “Like she can hear us,” Jackie mumbled.

  Mother, forgot to remind you about working on the English project after school. I have a ride home. Will be there around four.

  A raw, hip-hop beat filled the car.

  Raina’s phone pinged.

  Will be riding home with whom?

  Roslyn. Raina typed in without hesitation, having already nailed down this part of the script. Roslyn was headed to visit an ailing grandmother in Texas. Around four o’clock she’d be at a cruising altitude of thirty thousand feet, impossible to reach. Mentioning her wouldn’t raise suspicions because the two Vessel-friends often hung out.

  Okay, honey. Light day to you.

  Love you, Mother. Keep shining.

  Raina flopped against the back seat and finally exhaled. As Bryce eased the Mustang onto the highway entrance ramp, she unwrapped the scarf from her face and pulled back the coat’s hood. End of school day and ride home confirmed. Check! The perfect alibi. The entire day covered. Getting a once-in-a-lifetime chance to act like a rock star without her parents’ knowing. Check! Check! Check!

  “All right, boys and girls,” Jackie cooed, moving her body to the beat that was swirling around her while reaching for the purse at her feet. “Let’s get this party started!”

  Raina watched as Jackie pulled a satin pouch from her purse. She reached inside and took out a shiny pink pen, a
dded a clear attachment, and lifted the pen to her lips.

  “You’re getting ready to smoke your pen?” Raina teased.

  Bryce and Larry looked at each other and laughed as though the joke was on her.

  “Do not tell me that you’ve never seen a vape before.”

  “A vape?” Raina asked.

  Jackie gave her the side-eye. “Girl, quit playing.”

  “What?”

  “Stop acting like you’ve never seen an electronic cigarette.”

  “Cigarette?” Raina was genuinely alarmed. “Jackie! I didn’t know you smoked!”

  “Well, now you do.”

  Jackie took a long drag from the device, then reached across Raina to give it to Monica. In the front seat, Bryce and Larry were engaged in a similar act.

  “Wait a minute. All of you smoke? Don’t you know that tobacco kills?”

  “Yeah, we’re aware of that,” Larry said, blowing out a puff of smoke. “That’s why this is weed.”

  Raina’s jaw dropped. “Weed as in marijuana?”

  “Girl, chill!” Jackie said.

  “I will not chill. You’re breaking the law.”

  “Keep messing with my high and I’m going to break your jaw!” The car cracked up. Raina saw nothing funny.

  “It’s really okay, Raina. This isn’t really weed, it’s a liquid that feels like weed. Plus, it’s legal in a lot of places, including Kansas City.”

  That medical—not recreational—use was legal, and the law was strictly enforced, was something Monica chose not to add.

  They were still in Kansas, where what they were doing was most definitely illegal. No one pointed that out either.

  “Look,” Bryce said, setting the cruise control and settling into the seat. “It’s really no big deal, like having a glass of wine.”

  “At eight in the morning?” Raina huffed, clearly unhappy. “If I’d known this was part of the deal I wouldn’t have come along.”

  “Well, we’re too far away to take you back, so unless you want me to drop you off in the next city and give you money for an Uber, relax. Consider this preparation for being on the set.”

  “For real, though,” Larry added. “Snipe smokes enough weed to cover half of Kansas, along with the rest of his crew.” He looked back at Raina. “And his will probably be a joint, not a vape.”

  “Maybe you should try it,” Monica suggested, having waved her hand to more participation after a couple puffs.

  “No. Thank. You.”

  “Come on, Rainbow,” Bryce said, his voice cajoling, and kind. “It’s something that a lot of people who work in or listen to hip-hop do. KCK does it. A lot of his boys imbibe. You want to meet Sniper and Shanghai, right, get to be in what will probably be the dopest video produced all year?”

  A lengthy pause before Raina responded, “Yes.”

  “Cool. Then don’t go all Amish in the city on us, okay? Have the folk in KC thinking your family drives a buggy and you churn your own butter.”

  The comment lightened the mood in the car a bit. Even Raina smiled.

  “Speaking of, Jackie patted Raina’s heavy wool skirt. “I hope you brought your cute clothes.”

  Raina had forgotten all about her needed transformation. She removed the skirt and finished the makeover. By the time they reached Kansas City, she was dressed in her hip-hop best and the party mood was back in full force. Bryce had blasted the artists they’d work with the entire way. Raina was beyond excited to meet her favorite R & B artist, and knew she’d be starstruck with Sniper, too. She hadn’t heard KCK’s music until this trip, but already had the hook to the song they’d be shooting stuck in her head.

  I’m all about the be about it. Be about the flow how the money go. Whoa!

  They reached a large, ancient-looking warehouse in a part of Kansas City called the Bottoms, a nondescript yet historical area once known for its successful stockyards and mafia activity. Bryce navigated the parking lot and pulled up next to a tricked-out Jeep Wrangler.

  Larry whistled as the car rolled to a stop. “It’s cold as a mother out here, but that car is smokin’ hot.”

  “That’s K’s ride,” Bryce explained, shortening his cousin-the-rapper’s KCK moniker to one letter.

  They exited the Mustang and noticed several luxury vehicles amid the regular cars and trucks. “What’s that?” Monica asked as they passed a sleek silver number that reminded her of something from outer space.

  “Ferrari,” Bryce said, eyeing the car appreciatively. “Snipe’s probably rocking that.”

  “No doubt,” Larry said. “I need to start rapping,” he added. “Make a brothah feel bad about the whip he’s driving.”

  “You’re in an ’85 Thunderbird,” Bryce deadpanned, an obvious dis to driving the old beat-up clunker. “Shouldn’t have taken you looking at that car to feel bad.”

  “Don’t knock it, partner. Gets me from A to B.”

  “I see,” Jackie said with emphasis. The group howled.

  They entered the building, still laughing. Those milling around the large hallway turned around. Several women in various stages of tight clothes, long weaves, and exposed skin stared at Larry and Bryce, as though to figure out if they were famous or not. Bryce especially received several admiring glances. Raina had never considered herself jealous, but was now glad for the gold-colored suede leggings she’d matched with a pair of Monica’s black thigh-high boots. The white button-up worn with the wool skirt had been removed to reveal a tight V-neck sweater. The band had been pulled from her hair just outside of Chippewa. The curly afro Jackie had expertly created with a throwback pick was easily the biggest and most standout hair in the building. Completing the look were a pair of big gold hoops and an armful of bangles. Raina felt a bit intimidated by the gorgeous women drooling over her man. But not much. Especially when Bryce threw an arm around her, letting the men whose gaze washed over her tight body know that she was not available. They passed through the hall to the end and a set of elevators. A burly guy looking like the Rock dipped in dark chocolate stood in front of the elevator’s operating buttons. He looked properly menacing in his all-black attire and wraparound shades. When he saw Bryce, however, he flashed a grill.

  “What up, B?”

  “What up, Pook?”

  “Here to rock it with cuzzo, huh?”

  “A little bit.”

  Looking beyond Bryce’s shoulder, the Rock asked, “This your posse?”

  “Yes, this is my crew.” Bryce introduced everyone.

  The Rock punched a button. An elevator door opened. “Have fun, everybody.”

  Raina had never had so much fun in her life! After being introduced to KCK, she met Sniper, who seemed immediately smitten. He was complimentary yet respectful. Her look was a hit. He suggested she be placed behind him during his rap, a prime spot, wearing big shades, heavy makeup, and tons of attitude. Shanghai was a sweetheart, who also loved the 70s look. Raina was stoked to meet her and pleased that she didn’t act stuck-up or holier-than-thou as she’d read about regarding other artists. Making a video, Raina learned, was hard work. She had no idea the number of times it took to get the right shot, how many times the singers, dancers, and actors were put through their paces to get whatever look the director desired. Time flew. Raina felt she blinked and it was one o’clock, with the shoot and recording far from being over. All too aware of the two-hour drive back to Chippewa, she went in search of the studio where Bryce was laying a line over KCK’s hook. She found it, motioned to get his attention. He came out after a couple more takes.

  “We need to leave,” she told him.

  “What time is it?”

  “A little past one.”

  “Chill out, baby. I know what time you have to be back. We’ll make it.”

  “I don’t want to wait until the last minute, Bryce. Anything can happen.”

  “But anything won’t.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Don’t let worrying interrupt your good time. You’re having fun, right?”<
br />
  “The best time of my life.”

  Bryce leaned over and kissed her again. “Then relax and enjoy it. We’ll leave in an hour.”

  “Okay.”

  Forty-five minutes later the group headed to the elevator. The shoot wasn’t finished, but it was time to go home. Raina was high, floating above the ground. It had nothing to do with drugs and everything to do with the day she’d just had, one that she never could have imagined. She’d hung out with stars and danced in a video. A teenager’s dream come true! Monica had asked if she was worried about Jennifer seeing it. In that moment she was appreciative of the church’s insular tendencies and avoidance of the secular world. She doubted that a member would see the video and even if they did, figured her look in it was so far from the subdued girl they were used to seeing that the thought it could be her or anyone they knew wouldn’t cross their mind. She’d taken a once-in-a-lifetime chance to have that very kind of experience. It was a memory she’d never forget. Once they arrived back home, she’d go back to her regular life and never try something so daring again.

  They reached the double doors leading outside. As they neared the glass panes letting in the outside world, Raina’s heart dropped. Snow was falling, and from the looks of it had been for most of the day. Fluffy white flakes dropped on top of the five or six or so inches already on the ground. Raina had checked the weather report. Obviously, the website that forecasted a chance of light precipitation got it wrong. Or the report had changed. Once inside the warehouse, Raina had never thought to double-check the weather, and since the windows had been covered for the production, no one knew what was happening outside. Raina had just over two hours to make it back to Chippewa. They’d be lucky to hit the city limits in three.

  Raina tried to hold on to her ecstatic feelings from the shoot, tried to be a part of the upbeat atmosphere her friends created on the drive back. But on top of the inclement weather it was also rush hour, with a series of accidents causing further delays. What was normally a fifteen-minute drive getting past the metropolitan area today took forty-five. They cleared the last accident at just past four o’clock, the time Raina should have been heading home. Five minutes later her mom called. She let it go to voicemail. What could Raina tell her that wouldn’t have Jennifer on her way to the school? A text came in, followed by another call. No doubt she’d called Roslyn and gotten voicemail, too. Raina panicked and turned off the phone. Bryce was a good driver. The highways were wet but clear. They had just under a hundred miles to go. The Mustang could do one-sixty. If they didn’t get stopped for speeding, Raina figured they’d be back in Chippewa no later than five thirty. An hour and a half late. Given she’d lied to her mom and the school and the church, she probably shouldn’t have called on the heavenly stars, but she did. Asked that whatever reason she came up with for being so late would be accepted. That Ken would be at the Center and Jennifer wouldn’t be too mad. She petitioned the heavenlies, and almost believed that this teenage tomfoolery could still be pulled off. That was, until they left the metro area where steady traffic had kept the highways fairly clear, and reached the lesser traveled, snow-covered lanes. Bryce could barely do sixty, let alone one-six-oh. There were slick spots, making him go slower still. Night fell, adding to the treacherous driving conditions. Bryce was careful but drove as fast as he could. He had no way of knowing about the patch of ice on the other side of a curve that he took at fifty-five miles an hour.