by Tiana Laveen
“Yes, she told me! She sells most of it online. I bought some earrings and two necklaces from her. They’re beautiful!” Mama nodded. “I’m glad she found something else to pour her energy into that not only helps her relax, but earns her money. Have you spoken to Timothy?”
Mama’s glow slowly drained from her face. She turned towards the television and went quiet for what felt like an eternity.
Guess I shouldn’t have brought him up…
Zaire had been hoping Mama would say something kind about her brother too, something out of the ordinary. It was apparent by the woman’s expression, that wasn’t in the cards.
“One day, I had visited my grandmother in Baltimore. There was snow on the ground and it was blowin’ around in the air, getting all over me. I felt like I was inside a snow globe, so beautiful…” Mama’s voice went low, her eyes glossed over as she withdrew within herself. Zaire had seen that expression far too many times to count. It often preceded one of her episodes. Her stomach tightened with anxiety. Dad handed her a cup of warm tea, startling her out of her thoughts. The mug felt good between her palms.
“Thank you, Dad.”
“You’re welcome, Eva,” he stated it in an almost robotic way, his face serious. He patted her shoulder then walked away, leaving them alone once again. Time passed, and Zaire scooted a bit closer to her mother, bracing herself.
You can’t let fear of her reactions and outbursts stop you… You have to take risks, Eva… Stop running from this.
“Mama, you were talking about the snow.”
“Oh yes… the snow. That snow was so white, it glowed that day. I hadn’t seen snow like that before. Born and raised right here in L.A., it just isn’t something we get. I guess, some may like that, some may not.” Mama shrugged. “I hadn’t seen much snow, period, over my lifetime but this snow looked like white diamonds, Eva. It looked like a blanket God had laid down from Heaven, covering the whole state of Maryland, you know?” A twinkle showed in Mama’s eyes as she moved her arms about, expressing herself, falling face first down into the soft, white memory. “I was walking down the sidewalk, putting one foot in front of the other, my boots sinking into this heavy snow, and along the way I saw one bright red drop in that snow, then another… then another until there were so many, I was shivering.
“Not from the cold, but from fear… Fear of what was bleeding like that, leaving a trail, the dots getting bigger and closer together. I then saw a hand forced up like a daisy bursting through that snow. It looked frozen stiff. The fingers were long and dark. Red tinged the knuckles and was embedded under the nails. That hand was attached to a body curled up real tight in that snow, right there on a lawn in front of some apartments. It was a man, Eva. His jet-black eyes were wide like an animal’s that had been shot in the back. I didn’t know if he was dead or alive until I screamed… then he blinked. He gasped for air, and a curl of his breath caught the wind and drifted away. I yelled for help, but it seemed nobody heard me, baby. Nobody came…
“Timothy is like that, Eva. Not that man lying there hurt in that snow, but those blood drops. You know something bad is going to happen if he keeps on going down that same road. You know if you keep walking and watching him, if you don’t turn away, you are going to run into something horrible. I’m responsible not for his snow, not for his blood, but for no one hearin’ him call out when he needed help.”
“Mama, we are adults now! We have to accept responsibility for our own actions!”
A tear streamed down Mama’s face.
“I know, baby,” She patted her knee. “But you see, I was his mother and he’d been yellin’ for help since he was a baby. Today I woke up and for some reason, I remembered things I hadn’t thought about in years. It was a routine day. Your father woke me up and fixed me some coffee. I brushed my teeth, took a shower, got dressed. I made my oatmeal, and he and I talked for a bit, then he ran down the way to get lunch. I promised him I’d be okay. He’s so afraid to leave me alone.” She dropped her gaze. “While he was gone, I took my medicine. I looked at those pills in my palm.”
Mama outstretched her hand, riddled with fine lines, proving years of life lived. “I said, ‘God, you didn’t make me crazy; I just am. Right now, I feel mighty guilty though. I had three babies and don’t know their names. I know the names I gave them, but I don’t know who they are, not on the inside. When your father got home, I told him these things. He reminded me that I used to keep journals. Most of what I wrote was a bunch of crazy nonsense,” Mama shook her head and laughed dismally. “But not all of it was crazy talk or gibberish. Some of it made sense. I’d written stuff about my babies, all three of you… and now, I am starting to remember who you are on the inside. I know you don’t come around much because your father doesn’t want you upset. And I know you’re kinda happy about that, because then you don’t have to see me.”
“Oh, Mama, that’s not true.”
“It is true, Eva… and that’s all right. I wouldn’t wanna come and see no crazy old lady, either.” Another tear came down Mama’s face, tearing her apart. “No matter how pretty the snow is, how it sparkles, honey, it’s ruined because somebody is bleeding and dying on the inside, even if it’s from their own mind. My mind stabs me in my heart every day. It plays tricks on me, never gives a treat. I don’t know what tomorrow is going to bring, but right now, today, I’m okay. And I know that every day, I love you.”
Zaire squeezed her mother’s hand. She swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall, but could barely hold on.
“You ever seen snow before, honey?”
“Yes, Mama.” The woman sported an odd smile now. “When I travelled to Chicago and New York for business I did see it sometimes.”
Mama nodded, but kept her eyes glued to the television. Soon, Dad joined them and they said nothing for quite some time. She took her father’s hand and squeezed, and he squeezed back, while she sat there shaking, falling apart inside. Mama exhaled, as if awakening from a long slumber, but still, she kept her eyes on that television, the tears coming down like a river…
I wish I could talk to you like this every day, Mama. So many people take for granted being able to pick up the phone and have a chat with their mother. I wish I could tell you how much I need you, and that you could understand. I wish I could explain how your approval when I was growing up meant everything to me, but I guess that doesn’t matter anymore. I’m trying to heal the child inside me, and sometimes, you give me glimmers of hope that one day, I might be able to sit down with you and tell you I’m sorry for being ashamed of you… Sorry for not forgiving you… Sorry for blaming you for the bad choices I made… Sorry for at times wishing you were dead!
Zaire shook her head, unable to fight the tears any longer. She both chastised and hugged her inner child within, beating her up and loving her at the same time…
As we sit here, together, a family… yes, a family, I am reminded we don’t get to choose our parents, but in some strange way, we do. Perhaps on a subconscious level we believe we can learn a lesson from them. I know those blood drops in the snow could’ve been me or Star, but Timothy was the sacrificial lamb. We all have our vices, don’t we, Mama? Star has been in denial and sticking her head in the sand. Timothy had drugs and blamed the world. I had shame and a superiority complex—a deep desire to be needed and held in high regard. A need to feel like I was better than you, Star, Timothy, my friends, my callers, everybody, all to hide the fact that I really believed I was a nobody! I didn’t think I was pretty like you and Star. I didn’t think I was as smart as Timothy. I didn’t believe I was as brave and strong as Daddy, either! I felt like nobody wanted me! NOBODY! All of this shit has been a silly act. I was sitting high, and everyone else was way down low in my twisted-up mind…
Her heart broke.
Somebody though loved me enough to tell me the truth. He came into my life and forced me to look at a mirror. He wasn’t afraid to be his authentic self, to show his defects, craziness, bumps, bruises a
nd all. He wasn’t ashamed of his family, no matter what they did or said. I was in awe of his strength! I was mesmerized at how comfortable he was in his own tattooed skin! He said whatever he wanted to say, didn’t care that it didn’t sound refined or jazzy. He dressed how he wanted to dress, did what he wanted to do, went where he wanted to go! HE WAS FREE! He was everything I wanted to be! That’s why I loved the bad boys… because they didn’t care what anyone thought, and I wanted some of that magic! Some of them are twisted, and should be avoided… but then there are others like Savage, who doesn’t allow himself to hurt the people he loves. I knew then that I wanted him, and had to have him.
I wanted a man who could protect my inner child, like my father. I wanted a guy who could make me feel good not just inside my body, but in my heart and mind, too. Oh my God! The truth is savage! It rages! It will be heard by any means necessary.
She looked at her mother. The woman had zoned off, seemingly trapped in a daydream.
I want to be able to tell you this, Mama, to look in your eyes and say, ‘Hey, I’m in love! He gets me. He understands me. He’s good to me… so good to me!’ One day, I pray I’ll be able to.
Zaire smiled, sniffed, and didn’t pull her hands away from her parents to wipe her eyes. Instead, she turned to her father and realized he was staring at her. He, too, had tears in his eyes, and a big smile on his face. She leaned in close to him and whispered, “Mama had a good day.”
“Yes, she did. It’s been real nice.”
“Guess what, Dad? I met a wonderful man. I finally decided to try again, to take my own advice. I took some time out for myself, as you know. That helped. This time I believe will be different. I think I found someone who truly appreciates me.”
The man looked thrilled, and proud.
“That’s beautiful, Eva. You’re a good woman, and I’m not saying that just because you’re my daughter.”
“I have to warn you though, Dad. He’s a bit rough around the edges.”
“So was I, and your mother loved me anyway…” He kissed her cheek. “I can’t wait to meet him. Bring him over soon, okay?” She nodded, her heart exploding as she explored the hard-to-navigate valleys of her truth. Somehow, she knew deep within that even within the cold, hard walls of sickness, there was health and hope. Even within hope, there existed at times a dash of dreadful fear.
It had to be, for life was not always about being the strongest, smartest, or wisest. Sometimes it was about the most beautiful of mistakes, and the savage risks one was ready to take…
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Tongue Tied, Hog Tied, You Decide…
“Yeah, he was definitely trailing me. Black pickup, one guy this time,” Savage stated as he approached a red light. Harlem could be heard typing on the other end.
“The license plate is bogus. Doesn’t even show up.”
“So, looks like they’re not as stupid as I’d hoped.”
“Where are you now?”
“Still on 405, headed to LAX.”
“Whose job?”
“Austin. I accepted Longhorn’s assignment though, but I told Austin as a courtesy, friend to friend. I owed him no explanation, but I’m tryna do as my lady says, and treat people how I’d like to be treated.” He cracked up, thinking it sounded rather corny.
Harlem laughed.
“Sounds like some chicken soup for the soul shit, a hazard of dating a psychologist I guess. What did Austin say when you let him know you were moonlighting for Longhorn of all people?”
“He wasn’t pleased but hey, he accepted that it’s my choice. Besides, I reassured him that this is a one-time thing and I want them to kiss and make up. Not for Longhorn’s sake, but Austin’s. Longhorn can go fuck himself, but you know I can’t refuse a boss ass challenge like this. The last assignment that got my blood pumping was from a turncoat. This motherfucker has bodied over twenty-five of his own crew. He was fuckin’ nutso. Anyway, though I can’t get into any details, I want to go for it. The money I’m getting from this is secondary at this point. I hate motherfuckers like this… a fuckin’ traitor, Benedict Arnold to the country. Of course, Longhorn played on that but I had to let him know he wasn’t getting over. I understood exactly what was going on.”
“Where is it? When do you plan on heading out for it?”
“I have to stake the area and target first. You know I can’t tell you the location; this one is top secret. They don’t want anyone being tipped off accidentally. It took them over two years to even peg this guy down. Anyway, I won’t be leaving for a few weeks. I don’t like rushing in with no prior personal surveillance that I conduct on my own, if I can help it. There’s always the rush jobs, the calls in the middle of the night but I have a bit of wiggle room with this one. I read the files, but this is a slick one, man. I really need to be on top of my shit. One false move and my ass can be on a slab.”
“I wish I knew who it was! Wow, man…Those are the kind that get your blood pumping! You’ve got me missing being back in the game.”
“I promise to tell you after he’s wiped out.”
“I’ll know by then, motherfucker. You’ll probably get an award for it and it will be all over the server. I doubt you’ll be humble about it, either.”
Savage placed his Glock 19 in the glove compartment. The guy was gone; there was no need to keep it out on the passenger’s seat any longer. “Okay, so let me look further into these guys following you. You still believe they were the same people that showed up in Vegas?”
“It has to be, man. This is all tied together. Yeah, I’ve got enemies, but they move weird, man. They move funny. Something isn’t adding up. I was in the middle of rush-hour on the 405 so it wasn’t exactly conducive to doing anything unless he looked as if he was going to shoot. I was ready, but he didn’t make a move. That’s not like us. We don’t pause. We take out the target as soon as we get a positive I.D. and the coast is clear. Anyway, about the truck, I did slow down then move faster, zigzagged a bit, got on his side but he took off. Ran like a chicken off the exit once I raised my gun.” He sighed. “He had on a hood. White guy, dark shades.”
“Got it. They can’t go on like this for too long. Eventually, they’ll fuck up. Especially if they’re amateurs.”
“All right, if you do pick up anything else, let me know. I have surveillance kicked up a notch. All of my cars have cameras, and the Harleys, too. I’m really tired of this shit. I’m convinced now it really isn’t Longhorn; they wouldn’t go around slashin’ tires like some bitch and follow me and not try to attack. This is some crazy shit. I don’t think they’re professional, they’re a bit clumsy, but like I said, they’re not dumb, either.”
“Definitely not. Even the truck he was in, that make and model, there’s literally thousands of them. I’ll keep checking though.”
“All right. Catch you later.” Savage ended the call and decided to tune into his baby’s podcast. He knew she’d been working rather hard lately on a forum she was hosting the following month and he’d had to fly out to Denver to take out some trash. The last few days they hadn’t seen one another, but they did text and call when time permitted.
“Thank you for calling! Okay, now, we’re taking Gina from San Bernardino. Gina, you’re now LIVE with Dr. Zaire Ellington.”
“Hey bitch, it’s me!” Savage’s brows rutted as the deep, gravelly voice came through. “My wife won’t remove the restraining order because of you! I CAN’T SEE MY FUCKIN’ KIDS! I’m going to kill you, you Black bitch!” the guy hollered.
Zaire immediately ended the call.
“Okay, sorry about that, callers. Sometimes people get a bit too much alcohol in them before calling here.” Zaire laughed, though he knew she didn’t find a damn thing funny. A series of honks ensued as he busted a U-turn, crossed over opposing traffic, and barreled towards the exit.
He pulled up the surveillance on his phone of her podcast call logs.
“Trace! Where’s the last trace? Come on, damn it. I need the
last number traced!” He waited for a few moments while the information populated on the special app on this phone. It was an interesting set of events that had transpired. Much to his surprise, Zaire kept her studio locked when she wasn’t inside it.
Back when he was still at her place, he’d tried twice to get down there while she was asleep after their romp, but she seemed to have an active sixth sense and would call him out as soon as he’d pick the door open. This had been of course after extensive searching for the key which he’d presumed was hidden so well, she may have even forgotten where it was. Picking that lock had taken much longer than he wished because he had to be as discreet as possible. To make matters worse, leave it to Zaire to have some special handle on the damn thing—nothing run of the mill. He’d had to go forth with Option B…
This time, he’d made sure to be present during her show so he could take care of business there and then. He’d looked at some books and magazines in her studio as she spoke to her callers, placing a few bugs here and there to record the words shared. He’d then taken the microphone from her during the show and decided to talk to one of her callers in hopes of distracting her. It had worked like a charm. She’d been so busy trying to prevent him from making a fool of her, she hadn’t noticed him slide a tracking and recording device onto the phone call console, as well as her computer. It would record the location of origin for each and every call that came through that line from that point forward. Within a matter of a minutes, he had her entire studio bugged without her being none the wiser.
A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. This fucker is in Savage country now…
“Coordinates confirmed,” said the robotic voice.
“Perfect. Dial Harlem.” His phone immediately dialed his friend.
“What’s up? We just spoke. You miss me already, lover boy?” Harlem teased.
“I have some coordinates that I need a direct address for. Can you get it to me?”