by King, Deja
“Yeah. Where is my Daddy, Auntie and Paris?” She frantically looked around as a crowd started to form a couple feet from her. She spotted her father and darted over. Some people tried to block her path, but she broke loose from their hold. The entire scene felt too familiar. She’d already been through this tragedy, now it was like a movie that was on replay. It was like she was reliving Tala’s shooting all over again. Tala was lying in a puddle of blood, barely holding onto her life. Semaj broke down and began to cry uncontrollably. She fell to the ground and picked up Tala’s head to lay it on her lap. “Auntie, you just got better. You can’t leave me now… hold on please, Ta! You strong, Tee Tee. You took a bullet to the head so these chest wounds ain’t shit. You a solider. Please don’t go.”
“Maj,” she heard her whisper faintly as her eyes rolled slowly around.
Semaj looked at her in shock as she realized that she was trying to hold onto her life once again. “Shhh, don’t talk, Ta. Just hold on like last time. You gon’ make it.” Covered in blood and looking at Tala’s white baby doll dress now crimson, Semaj heaved violently as she rocked back and forth still pleading for her auntie to hold on. “You the baddest bitch I know…you always been the shit. We still gotta shine. You can’t leave me like this. Please stay with me!” her words cracked.
“Apply pressure,” Quasim said, removing his shirt and Murder
Mitch repeated the same gesture.
“I can’t, Maj. Just please don’t be mad at me. I love you and so proud of you.”
“Yes you can!” Semaj demanded as her fear turned to anger. She pressed the shirts against her chest wound, desperately trying to stop the blood flow but there was too much blood. In her heart Semaj knew that her efforts were useless. Tala was slowly slipping away. “Daddy, where the fuck are they? Qua, where are they? Just hold on a little longer, Ta!” Semaj screamed out, hoping the paramedics would arrive quickly as she looked around.
“The pain is bad and I… I can’t,” Tala muttered. Her eyes closed as she took her last breath.
Murder Mitch banged his fist with his head and departed ready to go to war.
Semaj, not, immediately knowing that Tal was gone was still pleading to God until she glanced down and saw her auntie’s lifeless body. She shook the corpse forcefully, but it was too late. Tala had made it to the light. “Wake up, Ta! I know you ain’t gon’ leave me like this! We got too much shit to do! ” Semaj cried out now completely distraught.
At that moment, EMTs came rushing and Semaj jumped up and started screaming on the paramedics, swinging wildly, scurrying towards the police, but Quasim scooped her mid-stride. “What the fuck took you bastards so long? You bitches seem to make it everywhere else on time, but when it’s a shooting you racist fucks take your precious time!”
“I’m sorry for your loss ma’am,” the officer said.
“Fuck you! She’s not dead!” Semaj was becoming delusional as they loaded the body onto the stretcher and covered it with a white sheet. She bolted toward the coroner’s van in a swift motion, and lifted the cover from Tala’s face and tugged her into an embrace. Semaj begged her to wake up as she cried over her lifeless body in total disbelief. The officer tried talking to her in a negotiation for her to release the body, but the words fell on deaf ears. She wouldn’t let go. Well she couldn’t let go. To Semaj to release her aunt from her clutches would mean letting her go forever and she wasn’t ready for that.
The officer looked at her in frustration, whispered to the family to get her. Seeing her mourning over the body even brought tears to the onlookers and some of the toughest men in New York. Quasim’s goons were fighting back tears.
Quasim wrapped his strong arms around Semaj. “You have to let go, baby. She’s in a better place now.”
“But she just got better. She didn’t even have enough time to enjoy her welcome home,” she said not understanding it.
“She wouldn’t want you acting like this. She stuck around long enough to see one of the most important days of your life.”
“But we had so much more to accomplish together. That’s my auntie. She was there for me when I had nobody. Nobody!”
“And she still is gonna be in spirit. But you have to let go so these men can do their job.”
She nodded her head profusely as she pulled her auntie extremely close to kiss her cheek one last time. “I love you, Tee Tee, forever and ever. Wait for me too,” she whispered as her knees crippled her and her body went limp. She collapsed in Quasim’s embrace.
For the entire ride home, Semaj cried silently. The stiff body gestures expressed true hurt, and it broke Quasim’s heart to see her like that. He did not know what to say to ease her pain, so he remained quiet. When his father had died he hated the thousand apologies from people who would never bear his agony. Telling her it was going to be all right was useless. From past experiences of losing close loved ones, Quasim knew for a fact that the pain never waned. He did, however, reach over and intertwined his fingers with hers to let her know that he was there to help her bear the cross.
He pulled through his gated community and after punching four digits into his newly installed security system, the chrome gate clanked, parting and welcomed them to their home. Semaj’s body was still in shock, so he carried her into their house. He headed straight for the master bathroom where he laid her on the white suede sofa. By this time, Quasim’s ivory colored threads were covered with blood as well as the sofa, but the material things could easily be replaced. Semaj was what was important to him and he was going to make it his personal mission to cater to her. He turned on the knob and let the warm water surge. He removed her dress and wrapped her hair into a rubber band, hating every second of her grieving.
He helped her up the three Jacuzzi steps and gently sat her on the edge as she continued to sob. Soaping the sponge, Quasim lathered her body, softly washing every part of her skin. He did not leave a trace of blood as he rinsed her with the unhooked sprayer device. Wrapping her into a towel, he laid her onto the bed and dried her off. After massaging her body with oil from head to toe, he dressed her in a nightie, and tucked her in like she was his little princess. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Semaj hadn’t wanted to respond, but her father was heavy on her mind. “Just call and make sure my Dad is okay.”
He nodded and walked back into the master bath. Hearing the door slightly close behind her, Semaj still heard Quasim. She stifled her cries so she’d be able to overhear the conversation that was on speakerphone.
“We got to get rid of that nigga a sap, dawg,” Mike-Mike expressed. “Me and Mitch just shot up Block’s main spots and laid several niggas down, forever!”
“From the gate, when he sent Maj’s own people to get at her I should’ve bodied that nigga. Fuck all this back and forth shit. It’s pointless, yo. He try’na get at anybody close to me.”
“I feel you. I knew you ain’t forget how this shit was done, fam. That’s what you got soldiers for. For crab ass niggas like that bitch muthafucker.”
“This nigga gotta go, like yesterday. He disrespectful and feeling like he got something to prove. Nigga gotta be dealt with before things get even worse, son.”
“That’s the Qua…Nah fam, that’s the Santana I know my nigga. You already know we gon’ handle this shit.”
Chapter 12
As Semaj dressed a dreadful feeling filled the pit of her stomach. It hurt her badly, because she knew this would be the last time she would ever see her auntie’s face. It felt as if someone had snatched her heart from her chest. For nearly her entire life, her auntie had been there for her and now she was just a memory. There was a void in Semaj’s existence that no one could fill, because nobody would be able to take the place of the woman that gave her own life for hers.
Seeing her like this tore Quasim’s world up. She was always so live, energetic and assertive. This was the second time he witnessed her so fragile and vulnerable but this time was different. Semaj stayed locked up in
the bedroom up until the funeral. She didn’t speak to anyone. She even gave him the silent treatment and pushed him away unintentionally.
Quasim was patient with her though. He understood the grieving stage. He knew that eventually she would have to deal with it and in its fresh stages were the worst. He knew that she was mourning, so he turned a blind eye to her silence. Wanting to give her the space she desired, his heart couldn’t allow it though—her pain was like a magnet to his soul—it drew him close. He catered to her, fixing her food, though her appetite was nonexistence and cuddled with her for solace.
With every passing day, Quasim was becoming increasingly annoyed that no one could find Block. Many members from his team had been knocked off or severely injured at Quasim’s order. Through Murder Mitch’s hatred it pretty much ended Block’s reign over his own city. For Quasim, that wasn’t enough though. He wouldn’t be able to fully relax until Block was dealt with and he was marked a memory. It surpassed the dope game. The situation was deeper than that. It was about respect. As long as he was still alive, Quasim would not be able to regain his complete sense of security, expecting him to strike back at any moment.
Emerging from the bathroom, Quasim looked at his beautiful lady as she sat on the bed in a snug sleeveless, black, designer tailored dress and clasped the straps on the Christian Dior black stiletto pumps. She stood and grabbed her python clutch bag. The black flower bedecked at the front of her pinned tresses, and the black delicate python gloves made her look like a modern day Billie Holiday. Quasim took her arm in his, and the couple walked outside to the awaiting limo.
When they arrived to Omega Baptist Ministry it was filled with Brooklyn’s street elite. From hustlers and haters known and unknown to Semaj poured into the church to pay their respects to the young woman that had fallen victim to street violence. The limo had let them out directly in front of the popular black church. As if the universe was in synchronization with their somber mood, the sky formed dark gloomy clouds, transforming the day into a dreary afternoon that matched the occasion. It was like the Heavens felt her pain.
Knowing her auntie wouldn’t want her to have breakdown for all to witness, she gathered her bearings and buried the pain.
Murder Mitch walked in first with Ms. Long, followed by Quasim and Paris who was on each of Semaj’s side. She held onto both of their hands tightly as they walked down the long aisle. A cream and gold casket sat at the face of the pew.
“Semaj, know I’m right here with you,” Quasim whispered to her as he noticed her tense up. “I’ma be right here with you. Don’t pay these other people no attention.”
Semaj stared straight ahead. The entire casket sat amongst hundreds of gardenias, Tala’s favorite flower. The closer they got to the casket the sweatier Semaj’s palms became. She stood over Tala’s coffin and unable to hold the tears any longer she allowed them to fall. Staring at Tala made her feel at ease. She looked beautiful and more at peace than she ever had.
Semaj bent down and kissed Tala’s cheek. “Even in death, your beauty shines through. You still the baddest bitch and I got us Auntie, I promise. Tell my mom and Vega I love and miss them so much when you get there.” Semaj kissed her again for the last time and said her final farewell. “I love you so much and will miss you dearly. Look over me while I’m in this ill world.”
Semaj took her seat at the front of the pew and prepared herself for the service to begin in memory of Tala Richardson. Murder Mitch sat next to his daughter, and held her hand with nothing on his mind but murder.
What they saw next astounded the attendees as everyone noticed D-Boy approach the coffin. Many had already heard that he was behind the shooting at Tala’s home. People felt that he was one bold individual, and even though he felt the daggers burning a hole through him D-Boy did not care. This was his child’s mother.
“This nigga got balls!” Murder Mitch muttered displeasingly as he reached for his gun.
But Semaj stopped him. “Daddy, please. Not at Tala’s going home service. Please! I can’t lose you too. Remember we’re in public, Daddy. He’s not worth it.”
He nodded in agreement, and released his grip on the gun as he watched D-Boy. The one time I see this nigga, it gotta be here, he sighed to himself as he watched D-Boy and one of his goons take a seat.
The entire eulogy was a big blur. All Semaj could focus on was the fact that D-Boy showed up to the funeral, and Tala’s lifeless body lying in the casket in front of her. It was as if she’d been absent from the service because the sermon from the pastor was inaudible. It was as if she’d temporarily turned deaf.
Once the service was over, Semaj stood to depart because she desperately needed air to breathe. It had felt like she was suffocating as she raced to the door, and waited for the pallbearers to load the body onto the horse-drawn carriage.
Once they arrived to the cemetery, Semaj looked on as her auntie went home in style. She was carried in a clear icy case by white horses and in sync the family allowed one hundred white doves to fly away. Semaj promised herself that she would not cry once they lowered the body into the ground. Tala was never coming back and this was a reality she had to deal with. Seeing it all was heart-wrenching, but Semaj was all cried out.
D-Boy on the other hand broke down. Murder Mitch had to walk back to the limo. It burned him up that he couldn’t kill D-Boy right then and there. If it wasn’t for Semaj’s pleas he would’ve murdered him the moment he saw him. But for his daughter, Murder Mitch saved his blood for later.
As Semaj prepared to walk off, D-Boy approached her. “I know you probably hate me right now but all I wanna know is if I can see my son.”
“You one daring ass nigga. After you shoot my gotdamn auntie, basically taking her away from her son…your son… you wanna see him! D-Boy, please! Word is bond, you’ll never see him again. Now get the fuck outta my face!”
“Damn, you gon’ give me shade like that, Maj?” he looked at her square in the eyes. “Just know I ain’t have nothing to do with that shooting at her house. Word to my mutha, me and Ta was on speaking terms. I don’t know if you heard or not, but I’ve been going through some issues of my own,” he tried playing victim, but Semaj knew he was full of shit and if she had the heart she would’ve blown him away herself. “I loved Ta, on my son, Semaj. I visited her several times while she was in the recovery center. I don’t know if she told you that or not.” At that moment, Murder Mitch and Quasim both appeared
behind D-Boy. “Is there—”
Murder Mitch cut Quasim off mid-sentence as he pulled out his strap and pointed it at D-Boy’s temple. He was unable to hold his composure any longer. “Nigga, you don’t ever in your mu’fuckin life try to approach my daughter. I mean don’t say shit to mine. That one belongs to me, son.”
D-Boy looked over at his mans. As if on cue, he had his ratchet pointed at Murder Mitch in a defensive stance. “We don’t move unstrapped, baby,” the goon smirked mischievously.
Semaj didn’t want this situation to brew any hotter and intervened to try to eliminate the problem. “Daddy, let’s just go, please,” she said with frustration. All this was too much to deal with and for God-sake her auntie had just been buried.
“Yeah Daddy let’s just go please,” D-Boy tried making a mockery out of the situation.
“Yo, my man, you need to get back in your car before you make this an ugly outcome, son,” Quasim stated without raising his voice but with enough authority to establish his dominance.
D-Boy didn’t know it at first until he looked around and noticed several goons with assault rifles pointed in their direction. All were sharp shooters too. Quasim never left the house without his goons for situations like these.
“Quasim, please lets just go.” Semaj stepped in to avoid the situation turning deadly.
It wasn’t the name that made him smirk, but the person that he’d seen for the first time. So this is the Quasim Santana nigga, D-Boy thought excitedly. Now it all makes sense. “You know what? A‘ight.
Y’all be easy,” D-Boy said and walked away.
“I’m going to kill him!” Murder Mitch promised as he watched the man pull off.
A couple weeks had passed since the funeral and this day was going to be the first time that Semaj got up and stopped moping around the house. She’d been doing it so long it started to irk her. She had to pull herself together. She knew her auntie wouldn’t want her to be in isolation. It wouldn’t bring her back. And while still missing her auntie, Semaj decided that her days of depression was over.
Semaj shook her somber emotions out of her system as she impassively climbed out of the comfort of her bed. First thing on her agenda was to cleanse her mind, body and soul with a long hot shower. She needed it badly and scrubbed her skin clean. After the soothing shower, she got dressed. She smiled at herself in the mirror. For the first time in a minute she felt cute and refreshed.
When Semaj got downstairs she heard noises coming from the master living room and hoped to find Quasim but he was nowhere in sight. Instead Slim and his girlfriend were sitting on the couch. Quasim made it clear that Semaj was never left home alone. “What‘s up, Slim? What up, Chi?” she greeted amiably.
“What’s good Maj? You cool?” he asked with sympathy in his voice.
“Hey,” Chi replied nonchalantly. It wasn’t a mystery that the girls didn’t care too much for each other, but neither was rude.
“Yeah, I’m cool. Just decided to, you know, get up and get to moving again. Ain’t no need for the moping.”
“I feel that. You got a movie finna come out too and all that. That’s what’s up.”
“True that. But Paris finna pull up in a few. When she gets here tell her to come upstairs,” she said and exited the room. She made a turkey sandwich, and washed it down with grape Kool-Aid before heading back upstairs.
Semaj wanted to pack up Tala’s belongings and clean out her room. There were bags and boxes everywhere. Quasim had asked her if she wanted him to hire someone to move Tala’s things to an inner city charity. She agreed on the newly purchased items, but decided to keep all of her auntie’s other belongings. As she went through her personal things, Semaj found a photo album. She reminisced and laughed as she flipped through the picture book and surprisingly not one tear dropped.