Nobody's Son, page 6
Reggie snatched the paper from her hands and crumpled it up. “I don’t need to go to no domestic violence classes. Me and Jenise are just fine. Besides, if I went to those classes, it would ruin my career before it started. How can I go into churches in this area and minister my music if they think I’ve been hitting my wife? Forget it!”
“How can you go into churches in this community and minister your music when you know that you hit your wife?” Ellen asked.
“Stay outta our business, Ellen.” Reggie pointed a long, skinny finger at her face. “What goes on between me and Jenise is none of your business. You got that?”
Ellen sighed loudly. “Yeah, I got it.” She stood up from the table and went over to the stove to check on dinner.
“Leave that and I’ll finish cooking. I’m glad you stayed with Jenise while I was away, but I’m home now, so you can get your stuff and bounce.”
Ellen glared at him and was just about to refuse to leave when Jenise walked into the kitchen. Her eyes lit up like a lightning bug when she saw Reggie. “Baby, when did you get home?” she asked. She reached down and hugged him tightly.
“I just got here a few minutes ago,” he said, hugging her back. “Why didn’t you tell me what the doctor said when I called last week?”
Jenise pulled out a chair and sat beside him. She glanced over at her sister before answering. “I didn’t want to worry you while you were working in the studio at your mom’s house. Besides, Ellen didn’t mind staying here, did you, Sissy?” she asked.
Although she didn’t mind staying with her sister at all Ellen was livid to find out that her sister had been in contact with Reggie and had not told him what was going on. When she’d asked about him, Jenise had pretended that she had no idea where he’d gone or when he’d be back. As much as she loved her sister, Ellen was growing weary of the lies she constantly told to protect her husband.
“Listen, since Reggie is here, I’m gonna go ahead and go home.” She gave Jenise a quick hug, then left them alone in the kitchen. Her stomach did flip-flops as she heard the two of them laughing and giggling with each other like teenagers. Ellen was aware that there were many times when Reggie was very affectionate and loving toward her sister, but in her mind, those times did not outweigh the multiple times that he treated her as if she was less than a stray dog he’d found wandering in the street. No matter what anyone said, that wasn’t her idea of what love was all about.
She went into Aaliyah’s bedroom that she had shared with her for the past week and grabbed her overnight bag and threw her things randomly into it. On her way out the door she gave her niece a big hug and a kiss. “Do you remember when I showed you how to call nine-one-one?” she asked her niece.
“I do, Auntie Ellen,” she answered.
“What’s my phone number?”
Aaliyah grinned and recited the number proudly, “404-555-0988.”
“That’s perfect. Now if you ever need anything you can call me, or you can call nine-one-one if there’s a problem. Do you understand?”
Aaliyah nodded her little head, and her ponytails bobbed back and forth.
Ellen went to the door, then instructed Aaliyah to lock it securely after she was gone. As she descended the staircase on her way to the parking lot, she began to fervently pray.
“Dear Lord, please take care of my sister and my niece. Protect them, Lord. Keep them both safe from hurt, harm, or danger. Touch my sister’s heart and open her eyes. Help her to see through the love she feels and protect her and her child. In Jesus’ name I pray, amen.”
Since it was still early in the evening Ellen decided against going straight home. Instead, she dialed Semaj’s number and asked if he wouldn’t mind having some company.
“You know you can come by here anytime,” he said as he smiled into the phone.
“Have you had dinner yet? I can stop and pick up something for both of us,” she suggested.
“No, you don’t have to do that. I’ll order from Vonnie’s Soul Food, and the delivery should be here by the time you arrive. What do you want me to order for you?”
Maneuvering through traffic Ellen tried to quickly remember what her favorite dish was from Vonnie’s. “I think I’m in the mood for barbeque ribs and a baked sweet potato,” she said finally.
“That sounds delicious. I think I’ll order the same. See you soon, sweetheart. I love you,” Semaj said before hanging up the phone.
Ellen felt relieved that he finally seemed to be in a good mood. Although he’d apologized for his disappearing act the previous week, Ellen couldn’t help but still feel concerned about the entire situation. In all honesty, she felt the excuse he’d given her was just plain lame. When he finally called after not answering his phone for four days, he’d told Ellen that he was homesick so he went back to South Carolina for a few days. He told her that a story he was working on had triggered some memories of his grandparents, and he just felt the need to be inside their home and around their things until the feeling passed. When she’d asked what story, he told her it was a story about an elderly couple just like his grandparents who’d passed away following a bad car accident on the same day. While the story somewhat mirrored what had happened in his family, Ellen knew that he covered similar stories all the time and he’d never acted that way before. Since that time he’d been different. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was, but she was sure that he simply wasn’t acting like himself any longer.
Semaj had been moody since the day they’d met. Ellen had often joked that he had more mood swings than a pregnant woman. One minute he was happy and acting like he was on the top of the world, and the next, he’d be melancholy and sad. They’d discussed it with their pastor during their premarital counseling sessions, and the pastor had chalked it all up to Semaj’s tragic loss of his grandparents at such a young age. She’d learned to live with it, and it had actually become a part of his charm. She was also a loner by nature, so if he wasn’t in the best mood, she’d use that time to do things for herself. But the mood he’d been in for the past week was way beyond anything she’d ever experienced with him before. He wasn’t sad or mad, and he didn’t seem annoyed or even downhearted. If she had to give it a name, she’d have to say that he simply acted lost. It was as if he was behind a brick wall and couldn’t find his way out.
The delivery driver for Vonnie’s Soul Food pulled into the parking lot of Semaj’s apartments at the same time as Ellen, and they walked to the door together while she savored the smell of the ribs. As Semaj paid the driver, she went into the kitchen to look for drinks. As usual, Semaj had several bottles of his favorite soft drink in the fridge. She took two glasses from the cabinet, filled them with ice, and poured them both full of Mountain Dew Code Red. She took them into the dining room and sat down at the table. Semaj came over and set the plates of food down in front of them. Without a word he sat down beside her and grabbed her hand. Ellen knew that was his way of asking her to say grace. She blessed the food, and then the two of them dug in.
“These ribs are delicious,” Semaj mumbled in between bites. “It’s too bad Vonnie doesn’t cater. I’d love to have her food for our wedding reception.”
“Speaking of our wedding reception, we need to set up an appointment with Cedric to taste the menu selections for the reception,” Ellen said.
Semaj wiped barbeque sauce from his face. “Are you sure we can afford this guy? I know he’s a friend of yours, but I’m worried that even with the discount, it’s going to break the bank.”
“Oh, that’s right. I didn’t tell you. Do you remember the little girl you found last year named Cyndi?”
“Of course, I do. Some idiot crackhead tried to sell her for a hit. Rip used his connections to help me find her.”
Ellen grinned eagerly, “Well, that little girl was Cedric’s sister. After he found out who I am marrying, he insisted that he cater the wedding for us absolutely free.”
Semaj stared at her in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? He actually said that it’s free?”
“Yes. I told him that you love what you do and that you are not in it for the money, but he didn’t care. He said that he wanted to bless us. I couldn’t say no to a blessing.”
Semaj’s cell phone began vibrating on the table. He checked the caller ID and saw his cousin’s name. “Do you mind if I answer that?” he asked.
“Go ahead, I’m done eating so I’m just going to throw these containers away and straighten up the kitchen.”
Semaj picked up the phone and walked down the hallway into his bedroom. “Hey, man, what’s up?” he asked.
“It’s not Christmas or your birthday, but I’m your fairy godfather,” Rip answered. “Your wish is my command.”
“You’re my what?”
Rip began to sing loudly off-key. “When you wish upon a star, makes no difference what you are, up above the world so high . . .” He suddenly stopped. “Wait a minute, that’s not right,” he said and laughed loudly.
Semaj began laughing hysterically as well. He didn’t quite understand, but his cousin’s singing was so bad it cracked him up. When the laughing finally died down Semaj decided to ask him again what he was talking about. “So you say you are a fairy and you like to sing too?” he joked.
“I’m not Tinker Bell, but I can grant wishes and with my help, your wish is about to come true.”
“What are you talking about? What wish?”
“Do you remember when we were in South Carolina last week and you said that you wished you could have a few minutes alone with that jerk Wayne James?”
Semaj closed his bedroom door to make sure that Ellen would not overhear their conversation. “Of course, I remember. You didn’t call him, did you? I told you that I didn’t want to have anything to do with that guy.”
“Man, you haven’t heard the latest. I talked to Gwen, and she said that he told her that you were a big fat liar. He told her that there was no way you could be his son because his son is dead. He told Gwen you were a con artist after his money. Can you believe that crap?”
“He said his son is dead? Are you sure about that?”
“Of course, I’m sure. He even showed Gwen some phony newspaper clipping with a fake headline saying that his son died in the fire with his wife. Then he told Gwen not to tell anybody about you or their conversation, but you know me. I coaxed it out of her. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he lied to your face, now he’s telling lies on you behind your back. That’s the last straw. Don’t worry about the details. Just know that your cousin is going to make sure that you get your wish.”
Suddenly realizing exactly what he meant, Semaj slowly sat down on his bed. “Rip, you are on probation, man. You can’t risk your freedom for me. Whatever you are thinking about, just forget it.”
“I can’t forget it. This guy treated you like gutter trash, and that is unacceptable. Besides, I wouldn’t even have my freedom if it wasn’t for you. I owe you, Semaj, and you know that I always pay my debts.”
The sound of Ellen knocking at the door distracted Semaj momentarily from the conversation. “Yeah, honey, what is it?” he called out.
“Do you want some ice cream? I was just about to fix some for myself.”
“No, I’m good.”
Before speaking again he waited until he heard her footsteps return to the kitchen. When he heard the refrigerator door opening he returned to the conversation. “Rip, listen, I appreciate what you want to do, but this is not the way. Wayne James is just not worth it.” Semaj paused and waited for an answer. “Rip, are you there?” He repeated his name several more times, but he knew it was no use. His cousin had already hung up.
“Don’t stop him. Revenge is sweet,” a voice said. Semaj looked to his left and just like in the movies he could’ve sworn he saw a miniature replica of himself in a red suit with horns and a tail sitting on his shoulder. The little devil spoke again. “Wayne James treated you like crap. All you wanted was to know him. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”
Semaj nodded his head in agreement. “You’re right. He deserves whatever Rip is planning to do to him. Why should I care?”
“He’s your father. You have to forgive him,” another voice said.
Semaj looked to his right and saw another tiny version of himself. This one was dressed all in white with a golden halo. For a few moments he wondered if he was freaking out as he watched the two arguing back and forth. The devil pointed out once again how badly Semaj had been treated by his father, while the little angel pleaded with Semaj to turn the other cheek. Finally unable to listen to the debate any longer, Semaj reached up and smacked the little angel off of his shoulder. He watched in silence as he vividly tumbled to the floor and landed with a loud thud. Stepping over him, Semaj opened his bedroom door and returned to the living room.
“Hey, Ellen, I’ve changed my mind. I think I will have some ice cream after all.”
Chapter Eight
Rip gulped down the last swallow of his third Red Bull, then threw the can out of the window of the van. A part of him was afraid of what he was about to do, but another part believed that it was the only thing that he could do.
For most of his adult life, Rip had lived and breathed crime. Every thought, word, or deed that he committed was the result of trying to get over and find the easiest way to get paid, regardless of the legalities of the activity. The only law or code that he lived by was the code of the streets, and that code dictated that he could not allow Wayne to get away with disrespecting Semaj.
Rip’s first brush with the law occurred when he was only fourteen years old. He and Semaj had walked to the corner store to buy snacks while on summer vacation. Semaj’s grandparents were considered to be one of the more well-to-do families in the neighborhood, and they always made sure that he had pocket money. Rip, on the other hand, lived with his elderly aunt whose only source of income was welfare, food stamps, and anything she could beg from social services, the community food bank, or her family members.
The two of them went inside the store, and Semaj picked out a Pepsi from the cooler and a bag of potato chips and a MoonPie off the shelf. Then he went to the counter to pay. Rip followed him and picked up the same items. While the clerk was distracted with ringing up Semaj’s purchases, Rip had shoved all of his items into his backpack, and then he tried to run out of the store. Unfortunately, the store owner’s wife had seen everything, and she used a broom to trip him up just as he reached the front door. He fell headfirst to the ground, and everything he’d stolen went tumbling down with him. It was only petty theft, but the racist judge that Rip stood before in the backwoods town of Andrus, South Carolina, sentenced him to two years in a juvenile detention facility.
Bad behavior, a bad attitude, and an assault on another inmate resulted in Rip spending the remainder of his teen years behind bars. He was released three days after his eighteenth birthday. His aunt Jenn that had raised him allowed him to stay with her for a few months, but working a regular job in the slow Southern town did not appeal to him. He contacted Semaj in Atlanta and asked if he could join him.
The two cousins shared a small apartment in the SWATS area of Atlanta. Semaj spent his days going to classes at Morris Brown College and his nights working various odd jobs to make ends meet. Rip spent his days sleeping and his nights hustling, robbing, and finding new and inventive ways to con people out of their hard earned money. By the time Semaj had graduated from college and began working for the local TV station as a field reporter, Rip had built a small drug empire. He loved his cousin, but he also realized that their lives were going in vastly different directions. Partly for Semaj’s protection and also partly for the convenience of his business, Rip moved out of their apartment after paying one of his many female companions to rent an apartment for him in Sand Poole Manor. Throughout the years, he kept in contact with his cousin, while also keeping a safe distance.
Rip was born a pudgy baby that grew into chubby child, a fat teen, and then a morbidly obese man. Although he rarely saw a doctor or stood on a calibrated scale, Rip was sure that his weight ballooned to well over 400 pounds at one point. During this time, he’d begun to rule his empire at Sand Poole from the comfort and security of his apartment. He believed that he had enough cops on his payroll to ensure that he and anyone who worked for him was safe from prosecution, and for a very long time he lived with a false sense of happiness.
The people who were Rip’s customers and associates would probably explain what happened in his life next as fate, or maybe even Karma, but Rip knew in his heart that it was nothing but God. One night as Rip was lounging in his bed alone watching his favorite movie Scarface, a swarm of DEA agents kicked in his front door. Rip reached for the 9 mm gun that he kept under his mattress, but it was too late. The agents began firing rounds, and Rip was hit twelve times. Many were just superficial wounds, but the most crucial bullet lodged in his spine as he tried to turn to get away. Rip woke up a week later unable to feel his legs with a DEA agent standing over his bed asking questions. A few feet away from the bed Rip saw his cousin Semaj and his aunt Jenn with tears streaming down her face.
Up until that point, Rip couldn’t remember ever praying in his entire life. He’d been brought up in a Christian home, but he’d never accepted the prayers or the faith that his aunt possessed. Yet at that moment in time, Rip instinctively knew that he’d reach the point of no return. Ignoring the agent and his questions, he closed his eyes and prayed.
“God, I can’t feel my legs. I know that after the things I’ve done and said I don’t deserve to ask you for anything. I’m not worthy of your love, but I can feel it all over me. Lord, I swear to you, if you let me walk again, I will turn my life around and never commit another crime. I will tell this agent everything that he wants to know, and even if I end up walking around a prison yard, I am pleading with you to please, just let me walk again.”
