Beauty of Man and Woman – Episode 26

Written by Mercedes Keyes
Interracial drama series
Overall rating R

Chapter 77

 

In L. A…

 

Maxwell lay cuffed to the hospital bed, his rights read, with two detectives before him trying to question him.

"I'm not answerin' anything! I don't know a goddamn thing! I don't know shit! I want my lawyer! I get my one phone call – and I ain't saying nothing until my lawyer here! You hear me? You might as well quit asking! I don't know who what where or when about nothing! I ain't sayin' shit! Now somebody get me a phone! Interrogation over until my representative arrives!"

 

*   *   *

 

"I think we just need to be calm and see what's going on. We don't want to jump to conclusions. Let's first get to her place and we'll go from there." Jeremiah spoke gently to calm her friend down.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying to be calm … but … I can't help this feeling in my stomach. Deidre has been worried for the last few weeks, afraid for her life." Terra confessed, unconcerned for the time being about keeping hush hush on Deidre's fears and concerns. Although she'd never met Jeremiah… she knew of him. Knew of him from Deidre, even as far back as when they were in school. Deidre use to talk about him all the time. How cute he was, how she'd often been tempted to kiss him. Hoping that one day he would try and kiss her; until finally she'd taken the initiative to make the move. One that she ended up regretting because it cost his mother her job and later on, even worse, her life. Following the absence of him and his mother from her life, Deidre gradually tapered off speaking of him. She complained less about her parents as well and how much she hated them, living with them, being their daughter.

Now here it was years later, after their lives had taken the turns necessary to bring them to the present, she'd arrived at the restaurant and told her about meeting him again. How they'd met up at the 7'Eleven. Leading to his phone call where dinner was arranged, ending with them walking, laughing and reminiscing about how life had been back in the seventies and the things they missed from that time period. She knew that Deidre had enjoyed his company. Terra encouraged her to keep it up, anything to get her moving forward and off of thoughts of Shawn McPherson.

"What do you mean afraid for her life? From who?"

Terra was quiet a moment, and finally, "Her family. Her father, her mother. You see… Deidre made out a power-of-attorney in my name. Giving me power over her and everything belonging to her, in case of a sudden, accident. In fact, she said to me… "Don't let them get me."

Hearing those words sent chills over Jeremiah. They were both silent as the words and their significance went through their minds. Finally Jeremiah pulled into the lot at her warehouse apartment. He didn't have to drive too far into it to see her car parked there.

"Well now – her car is still here." Jeremiah stated.

Terra sighed in relief. "Maybe she got sick at the last minute, oh thank god. Let's go up and check on her."

He parked his hummer, they both climbed out and walked up to the building and rang the buzzer to her apartment. Waited for her to answer. No response, he laid on it again and waited. They looked at each other. "Is there any other way into this building?" Jeremiah asked.

"No… its secure, you can only be buzzed in."

He pulled out his cell phone and tried her number again. Waiting for her to answer, and six rings later, he was shaking his head staring into Terra's eyes. "No answer."

"What now?" She asked.

He clicked the button to end the call, was about to put it away when his ring tone started. They both braced themselves hoping that it was Deidre.

"Hello?"

"Man come to Cedars-Sinai now! I'm in some serious shit man! I need you here now! Jeremiah… I don't know what the fuck is going on, but somebody tried to kill Deidre Wherrington tonight! We didn't know-…"

"WHAT?! Hang on a minute… what are you saying?"

"Man… just get here! I'll explain when you get here! Hurry up man!"

Jeremiah clicked his phone off, grabbed Terra's arm and started running for his hummer.

"What's going on?! What's happening?!"

 

*   *   *

 

Chicago…

 

"Jake… Jake… wake up… Jake! Oh man… I am too tired for this… JAKE! JAAAKE!" It was 3:30 in the morning and Vivian was exhausted.

Her eyes were scratchy, burning – all she wanted to do, was climb in bed.

She'd made the long drive, had been afraid at one point that she would have to pull over, but she kept the heavy one ton truck on the road. Navy blue, extended cab and clean as could be even though it was a few years old. It handled like a dream. She'd gone through some of his tapes under the dash to keep herself alert, it was a good thing she didn't mind rock, and a bit of country – because that's all there was. She popped in Bad Company and adjusted her listening pleasure and found it was – ( for her tastes) – at least tolerable music, especially a couple of the songs. He also had Tim McGraw, she could deal with that okay as well. The key was to stay alert, because beside her – no help.

There was a lot on Vivian's mind during that drive. For one, it felt good handling the truck. One of the questions plaguing her mind was, did she enjoy driving the truck because she had no vehicle, or… did driving it, handling it… give her the sensation of handling the man who owned it? That was the question. She tried so hard to keep her mind clear and focused, but some significant altering had taken place in her life that day. It began the moment she looked up into Jake's eyes. She'd felt a shock clear through her system reaching to the tips of her toes. He'd taken her breath away.

She would have gotten over the shock of the encounter had they never met again.

Unfortunately for her, they had, under crazy and surprising circumstances.

He was Sylvia's brother-in-law.

Sylvia's husband's brother.

The man mama Micky wanted her to meet.

The black sheep of the family – the McPherson trouble maker.

This she gathered in the short space of time that she was forced to view the drama he was responsible for igniting. If that weren't enough, he had a thing for Sylvia. No matter how light – or frivolous the feeling, no matter how shallow and selfish… it still existed. So now… here she was trying to make sense out of why she still felt a tingle deep in the pit of her gut for him. Knowing that if he had his way, he might possibly prefer to be with Sylvia instead. She felt disgusted with herself, because she was conjuring up reasons in her head of why it was okay to… to want him. She gave him a quick glance, her mind swirling in disbelief – although  she had been looking for something close to him, different income bracket that is, it was still  startling to be sitting beside this amazing looking white male. A white man! That was gasp worthy in itself; while true, she did work with them – but lordy lordy, none were like this. This one, blew her away. Hadn't it just been earlier that day that she set eyes on him and was almost floored by what she saw? Granted, to see him now, he was nothing special to want. But… here she was, sitting in this big, white, mans truck, driving it to Chicago, with him stretched out beside her.

And she liked it – God help her, she did.

Even though he was passed out drunk, head pressed against the door window, with his snoring filling the cab, his hand laying on the console between them, battered and bruised; his shirt, torn and bloody; his hair full of gravel and grit. And yet… she felt her heart beating in a way that told her, be careful… be real careful.

"Jake… come on… wake up!" She called to him tiredly and picked up his hand. Not a good move, touching his warm, solid, heavy hand was startling. She could not deny the sudden jolt to her system. His hand was very heavy; big, hard and calloused. She'd never felt hands like his before. All the men she'd ever known, worked with, had soft hands. Not his… they were shockingly hard, to the extent that she was surprised a human hand could be so amazingly … rough, large and … masculine. She didn't need to be told that whatever he did for a living, it required hands on and he must use them an awful lot for them to feel this way.

Sign of a laborer. She shook her head.

No such man would she have even given the time of day to. Her area of choice was strictly and always, professionals with degrees, and an income of no less than a six figure salary. Her heart was pounding. His knuckles were large and raw, skinned from fighting. She couldn't help herself, carefully she touched the battered area, and felt breathless. She looked up at his profile, his face was getting bristly, and beneath his eye on his high cheek bone, his skin was split with dried blood flowing from the wound.

"Oh Jesus… what am I gonna do? I want this man. I want – this man, but for what? Sylvia hates him. No doubt for good reason. What else are you up to? With those looks, I can just imagine it's not good." She whispered to herself. She leaned back in the seat wondering what the heck to do. There was no way she could get him out of this truck if he didn't wake up. He was much too big and she wasn't even going to try, but she had to do something.

She pulled his keys from the ignition, put them into her bag, opened the door and stepped from the truck slamming the door behind her and walked around to his side. She looked up and down her street, thanking God that she lived in a nice neighborhood, otherwise there would be no way she'd be out on the streets this late following a Friday night. "Okay – what do I do here? Should I just leave him out here?" She shook her head, "I am not leaving him out here, no way… he's gonna have to wake up!" She took a deep breath, steadied herself and opened the door, intending to catch him, but he tumbled out with her trying to hold him.

"Shit shit shit shit shit! Oh shit you heavy…JAKE – you better wake up! You about to bite concrete! SHIT – JAKE!" Out he tumbled onto the ground with his feet still up on the side of the door jam. Vivian straining to hold him up from under his arms. He weighed a ton… at least it felt like he did while she stood there unable to keep him up. She had no choice, she had to let him go, she couldn't hold him and backed up and eased him down on the ground.

"I can't believe this shit! I should have left your ass in the truck! JAKE! Dammit! Wake – your – ass – up!"

He snored.

She whimpered, wanting to cry.

Suddenly a car pulled up across from her townhouse, she looked over, it was Debra and Cedric White, she couldn't believe her luck. They were just getting home from somewhere and they had a teenage son among the three. Vivian shot across the road calling out to them, "Debra! Cedric! Yoo-hooo! Excuse me… I'm so sorry to bother you, I know its late, but I desperately need your help! Please…" She stopped next to their car, standing by as each of them got out.

"What's going on? Girl do you know it's almost four in the mourning? We just got in from Ohio… and we tired, what you need?" Debra asked. If Vivian wasn't so desperate, she wouldn't ask her for anything, because Debra could be a nasty piece of work when she wanted to be. They were barely tolerant neighbors, and were only polite when necessary, most of the time, they pretended not to notice each other.

"I really hate to bother you, but… I umm, I need help… with – him." She turned and pointed across the street at Jake who was laying out on the ground without a care in the world.

"What is that? Who is that?" Cedric asked, they were all squinting trying to make out the person stretched out half on the sidewalk and half on the driveway.

"He's ummm, that's his truck and I drove it back from Wisconsin. I met him at a wedding yesterday and I'm desperate for help-…" She started explaining, following them as they walked across the street to get closer. All stopped and surrounded him, looking down, Cedric interrupted her saying, "Girl you must be desperate, first of all – he white! And on top of that, you done beat the man unconscious to drag his ass back here."

"Ex-cuuuse me… I not that kind of desperate…" She defended herself. "…I needed a ride back, because my girlfriend decided to stay, so he brought me back, but I had to drive and he… well… he's out cold." She explained.

"Well who beat him up?!" Cedric asked staring down at him.

"Yeah, why he all beat up?! Lo-o-ord lord lord… girl what you be bringing home." Debra drawled, shaking her head looking down at Jake.

"Look… I just need help getting him into my house, and up into my other bedroom… please, I don't wanna leave him out here like this." She asked using her customer service voice, one of extreme patience, that they were certainly trying and of course she didn't want to do anything that might make them turn down helping her, they were the type that would.

"His ass is white!" Cedric repeated in disbelief. "What kind of wedding you go to? White folks there?" He asked.

His wife looked up at him like he was crazy, "Well ob-vi-ously." She tossed her hand out pointing at Jake.

"Can you all help me take him inside please?"

"His ass look heavy… my back bad. I can't be throwing my back out carrying in some big ass white man. Shit… wake his ass up!" Cedric suggested, nudging him with his toe, "Hey! Wake yo' ass up! Wake up!"

"I tried to wake him up… he won't wake up."

"Don't hit him so hard next time." Cedric snickered, nudging his wife, who cackled along with him. "Anyway, leave his ass there… he be all right, they use to sleepin' on the ground'n'shit. Outdoor campin' motha'fuckas… toss his ass a blanket and call it a night!"

"I don't mind dad… I can help lift him." They're eldest son Gary volunteered.

"Just hold it one goddamn minute… don't get all anxious. I got to figure this shit out… hurt my back… hell… I'ah be laid up for days if I hurt my back."

"That's true baby… he right… he do have a bad back."

"Okay okay okay… I'll pay you okay? I'll pay you… if you help me pick him up and carry him up the stairs-…"

"Up some stairs too?!" He whined.

"I'll pay you a hundred and fifty dollars." Vivian finally said.

"Son get that foot. Lynn, you grab his arm there, baby… get the other leg-…"

"You grab a leg, his damn legs look heavy… long ass legs, I'll grab a arm." Debra argued.

"Woman his goddamn arm connected to his heavy ass body… you gone lift that?"

Vivian whimpered.

"Hang on… first… money… ain't gone be no, "Oops, I got to run by the bank… I'll have to pay you later." No no sista'… you want help with this big o'white man… you got to pay first." Debra brought a halt to everything with her hand out.

Vivian bit into her tongue, turned to the truck setting her purse on top of it, and went into it looking for money. She had eighty dollars, that was it, the rest was in the bank. "Look, I have eighty dollars here, I promise you I'll get-…"

"Better throw a blanket out here." Cedric backed his wife up.

"Okay, wait a minute." Vivian grumbled and went down searching Jake as everyone stood over him looking down at him. She found his wallet in his back pocket, pulling it out and open, it was thick with bills.

"Goddamn! How much money in there?!" Cedric asked.

"One hundred fifty… that is it!" Vivian stated firmly, already seeing the signs of greed in his eyes.

"I'on know… looks like to me, you need us – two hundred, we'll carry his ass in – and undress'im."

"I think she wanna do that shit herself!" Debra joked nudging her husband, both of them started laughing again.

Vivian had little choice. She counted out a hundred and twenty from Jake's wallet and put her eighty with it, then stood holding the money and his wallet, grabbing her purse. "Get him inside and on the bed, then you get the money."

Huffing and blowing, staggering under his weight, they finally maneuvred him into the house and up the steps, needing to stop and catch a breath on the way. Finally, after almost tripping, and setting him down once, they got him to the bed and it took all of them to heft him onto it.

"What the fuck he eat!? Shit! Big lumberjack ass son'va'bitch! Goddamn!!!" Cedric complained with his hand to his back.

"Money… honey… thank you! Anytime you need another one carried in, just give us a call."

Vivian followed them out, checked the truck to make sure it was locked and then came back in locking her front door. Bristling over the cost of getting him out of the truck and into the house. She was going to have to pay him that money back. Last thing she wanted was for him to think she was after his money, she would have to explain when she got home from the bank. She went into the bathroom, washed her face, brushed her teeth and changed into her light pyjamas. She went into her kitchen, filled her clean dish pan with warm water and carried it up to the room where Jake lay sleeping, sat it on the floor, then went and gathered gauze, cotton balls, mild soap, antiseptic cream, band-aids and a comb.

A few moments later, she was cleaning him up. Soaking his injured hand with a warm soapy wash cloth, inspecting his knuckles and fingers, then drying them, she applied the antiseptic cream and wrapped his hand in the gauze. She then removed his shirt, the back was as bad as the rest of it, ruined from him hitting the ground and sliding along the gravel, she could just imagine his back. She climbed on the bed, both feet on either side of him and hefted his upper body over onto his side, where she sat, straddling him to hold him in place. Across his shoulder blades, his back was scarred with slide burns, raw with pealing skin and dried blood. It was a chore to keep him turned to wipe away the clinging gravel and dirt, but she worked on him and refused to stop and ask herself why. The whole time he made not a sound. By four thirty, she was done with him. Including having stripped him down to his underwear, resisting an impulse to take a peak, and combed out the gravel and grit from his silky long hair. Momentarily dazed, Vivian caressed the texture of it, rubbing it gently between her slender fingers. Snapping out of it, exhaustion was taking its toil. She threw a blanket over him, put everything away and went to her room, set the alarm clock for seven o'clock. She was going to use his truck to get to work in – she had no choice, because waking up at seven would not get her to work on time using the bus and train. She laid down thanking God she only had to work from nine to one. Yes it was only four hours, but she said she would work it in exchange… and work it she would, dead on her feet or not.

 

*   *   *

 

L. A…

 

Jeremiah wasted no time in first taking Terra by her place to pick up her Power-of-Attorney on Deidre, explaining as they went. Stressing that right now, under the circumstances, she may need to make him Deidre's attorney to see to whatever situation they were about to face. Terra was almost in tears, agreeing to anything he suggested, her imagination going crazy because Jeremiah didn't know exactly what it was that his brother meant. They hadn't a clue on the condition of Deidre. However, when they arrived, the emergency room was filled with patients, everyone was busy. There was blood almost everywhere they looked. Patients stretched out on gurney's against the wall. They rushed over to the police in attendance, asking questions about what had taken place. There were news vans there as well, reporting on the event, with a camera man taping live, a woman standing right outside the emergency entrance with her microphone.

 

KLAC News6

 

"Tonight – once again, urban gang violence erupts, caught in the midst – an innocent victim falls prey. Its been heard and warned again and again, be careful – don't get lost. Heed venturing into certain parts of the city, and never, not ever at night. Tonight, this unfortunate error was made by one of this city's leading citizens. Where she now, here at Cedars-Sinai – fights for her life. We'll keep you informed as the circumstances surrounding this unfortunate, reoccurring – event – unfolds. I'm Tanya Hyde at KLAC News6!"

 

"We're here in behalf of a Deidre Wherrington, we heard that she has had some type of emergency?" Terra asked right away.

"Who are you?" One of the officers asked.

"I'm Terra Conway, I hold Power-of-Attorney over her, and anything connected to her in case of an emergency. I have that document with me here." She informed him, unzipping the leather binder that held the legal document for him to see. "My request is this, until I know what is going on with her, she is to have no contact from anyone. No one should be allowed to visit her without my physical presence, clearing them – for access. This includes her parents; in other words, no one is to be called and notified. No one! I need you to now escort me, and her attorney which I have appointed to represent her, to the medical team in charge so that they are aware of this, and we can be filled in on what's happening."

"Step this way, and I'll see what I can do." The officer directed, leading the way to the desk to make them aware that Deidre Wherrington's lawyer and legal representative was there in her behalf and that all information and reports on her injuries and care needed to be directed to them only. The Power-of-Attorney was copied and placed on Deidre's clipboard. Immediately following that Terra placed it back in the leather binder and was directed to a waiting room. There was too much going on for anyone to stop and talk to them at the moment. Jeremiah escorted her to the waiting room and excused himself to find his brother. Letting her know that he would return when he spoke with him.

 

"What the hell is going on now Max?…" Jeremiah asked after the officers took him to the room where his brother was being held. "…and what do you know about Deidre Wherrington?"

"I don't know nothing! Other than she was screaming and running through Crenshaw earlier tonight. I didn't know who the hell she was!"

"Wait a minute, you're not making sense-…"

"Just listen… for the last few days, there been whitey activity in the hood… know what I'm sayin'? Few of m'boys seen this car, white man driving it – looking around and shit. Then ol'man Mr. Reynolds, saw'im too. Ol'man was tellin' me… tellin' me… watch yo'self, cause somebody up to some shit that ain't right! There we are tonight, hangin' and chillin' and shit – then one of my boys fly up sayin' Shay whitey female – screamin' her ass off! At the time, I didn't know who the fuck it was! I didn't know until they took her from me and laid her ass down to take her away here… that's when I seen her face! Then the police started asking me all kinds of shit about her!"

Jeremiah couldn't believe it, he stood a moment thinking that over, then asked. "Who was after her?"

"Five goddamn vehicles! Shootin' like a motha'fucka! Tryin' to – snuff – her – ass – out! Then blame that shit on us! That's what ol'man Mr. Reynolds' was saying!"

"Did you see any of them?"

"No! But they was driving shit like ours! You know… somebody went through a hell of a lot of expense duplicatin' our shit! Trying to make it look legit! Like a goddamn gang war! Wouldn't no goddamn gang war! Some motha'fucka wanted to kill her ass, and make it look like we did the shit! Hell'naw! We ain't wearin' it man! You got to do somethin'! This is bullshit! We saved her goddamn life!" He blasted, then thought about it. "Is she still alive?" He asked realizing she may not be.

"I don't know." Jeremiah stood with his mind in a whirl; caught up in something so surreal. They were suppose to meet. He now wished he'd gone to pick her up. Then he started wondering how was it things were mastered to bring it all about. "Hold tight, I'll be back!" Jeremiah stated heading for the door.

"Wait man! Where you going?"

"I'll be back!" He yelled.

He went to Terra and told her what he gathered from his brother, taking the time to calm her. Instructing her to call family members in to be with her so she was not waiting their alone, she agreed. He next went to the officer in charge and started making demands. "I need to be taken out to the scene of the shootings! I need to make sure nothing has been mishandled! I also want her vehicle confiscated – asap! This is her address, I want it pulled now! I smell something rotten! I need specific and concise questions asked of those whom first saw her."

"We're gathering all of that now. Let us do our job okay? Don't expect too much time spent on it. Its pretty much cut and dry what's happened here." Officer Rogelio La Roja replied.

"You see, that statement right there tells me, I better not leave this in the hands of the wrong people! Because you of all persons, should know – few things like this, are always, simple cut and dry! According to what I've been told, there's something else going on here." Jeremiah informed the Spanish officer. "I need to get to the scene where it all took place – now!" He continued with urgency.

He was taken to one of the many locations, and immediately lost his patience because he wanted to be taken to the start location, where Deidre originated and the initial attack began. He wanted a count of all vehicles involved. All weapons used confiscated. Details of every individual injured on the scene. Before long, he and the head of investigations were in an argument over how the investigation was being done, as well danger of contamination.

"I'm telling you now! This investigation is not going to be conducted like a common gang war occurrence! Believe me detective Johnson, I will not leave this one alone! There's a hidden mystery here – it will not be buried! I can tell you that now." Jeremiah assured the angry detective Martyn Johnson.

 

 

 

---

 

Chapter 78

 

Oscar T. was a nervous wreck waiting for the phone call to say all had gone according to plan. Any moment now they should be hearing from the police concerning their daughter's unfortunate death. He expected to hear, something to the effects of – "Due to a wrong turn by the taxi driver, they were set upon in a high crime area, urban street thugs and gang bangers!" He paced in his study, waiting – waiting – waiting for the phone call. He kept going over his reaction to it in his head. How he must appear once the news was given to him. He held the throw away cell phone in his pocket. Edgy he removed it to check once again that it was on… it was working fine. He put it away and resumed his pacing. It was driving him crazy with wanting to know had they even done it yet? If not… what were they waiting for? He told them, it was to be done the very day of their return from their business trip. Unable to stand the silent waiting, he turned, opened his television cabinet and clicked on the news.

Immediately there was being reported a gang war attack on a young woman who had ventured into the high crime area. Smiling, Oscar T. clicked the television off, not wanting to know too much. It was only a matter of time now before they were contacted. Then they could rush down to the hospital as concerned and horrified parents of their daughter's tragic death. It was the perfect crime set up. Oscar was proud of himself for thinking of it. The world would automatically assume what it has been programmed to assume. They would draw the easiest conclusion, out of control gangs. Racist attacks on the unfortunate, another tragic casualty at the hands of out of control Urban areas and violence. Lighting up a cigar, he thought this would make a nice boost to his political career.

"Let me think… grieving father determined that his daughter's death not be in vain. There needs to be hard and fast changes made in the legislature concerning attacks on the innocent." He thought out loud, puffing on his cigar to get it lit. "Yes… this will make a nice issue to address and bring to the forefront!" He smiled, knowing that any moment now, their phone would ring, so it was a good thing he was puffing on a cigar, he needed to be behaving in a natural manner previous to the call, or the arrival of the police breaking the tragic news. It was going to be a long night, he wondered if he should go on up to bed? He looked at the clock on his desk, it was after two in the morning. "They should be contacting us by now?" He thought unsure. But then again, it depended on what time it all occurred as to when they would be contacted. He decided to take faith in that what he'd planned was done. If he could only get that one phone call with the simple words declared. "D and D." – Done and dead. That's all he needed to hear. That's what they agreed upon. Yet…  he waited. Nothing. He couldn't stand there all night waiting. He went up to bed and would wake to find all was done… and then he could begin mourning until it was time to strategize on the next move.

 

*   *   *

 

Wisconsin…

 

It was the crack and roll of thunder, tapering off into smaller rumbles that shook him.

Shawn's body jerked from the loud boom. "What the…" He froze a moment to gather his bearings. "…aaah hell… Jesus Christ." He moaned. Smacking his dry mouth, his jaw felt sore, "Oooh man…" His dry scratchy throat would not swallow, he needed water. "Sylvie… emmm – I need water… baby… please. " He called out softly, praying she would get him a glass. He felt like crap and didn't want to move. His left hand went to the side to shake her, and soon realized, he wasn't in bed. His arm dropped. His head felt like hammers were beating up front, his eyes were scratchy and then he tried to blink and felt startling pain from one. "Aaah fuck… what… what the hell?" He was right handed and lifted it to his face, it too hurt. He flexed his fist and immediately regretted it.

Slowly he tried to pull himself up into a sitting position. Now up-right, he felt himself listing to the left, wincing he pulled himself center. Squinting, he tried to open his eyes to see, it was morning… he knew that. Although gray out, what daylight there was – was there. Lightning flashed once more, brightening the outdoors through the window, and then, back to grey; a few seconds later,  thunder rumbled and rolled again. Forcing his eyes to open, he could see that it was dark and stormy. Still squinting, he was trying to bring his senses around.

"Aaah hell… I need some water." He groaned and leaned forward to stand up. "FUCK!" He exclaimed loud. His body hurt…everywhere. Holding himself still, he stared out the big picture window through the drapery sheers, trying to decide if he was going to take a step or not, if so, with which foot first? "What the hell … doing on the sofa?" He murmured. Taking a deep breath, he looked around the house. It was quiet. Very… quiet. Lightning fired up bright before him, making him squint as he stood to the sound of the pouring rain. He turned carefully and made his way for the kitchen, even his back hurt, he flexed his shoulders, shifting his back from one side to the other, wanting to crack or loosen the spine, trying to get the kink out while looking around as he moved toward the sink. Everything was neat and in order. At the sink, he turned the faucet on, letting the water run as he took a glass from the cabinet, rinsed it out and began filling it and drinking. Five times before he had enough. Slowly he reached forward and turned the faucet off and set the glass down, bracing himself against the counter.

The house was too quiet, especially surrounded by the storm outside. Of course, Angela was with Derrick's family, leaving him and Sylvia home alone.

He stood a moment trying to let the fuzz in his brain clear, until his eye focused on his raw knuckles. Flashes of last night finally began. Jake… arriving late at their reception. Jake up on stage touching Sylvia. Her attack on Jake, and then his need to get to him as well. They fought.

She'd lied to him. Had kept it from him that Jake had been after her. Question was… why?

He stood away from the counter and turned to look into their bedroom. That's when he noticed the bed. It was still made and didn't appear to have been slept in.

"Sylvia?" He called out, thinking she must be up and in the bathroom. He made his way towards the bedroom looking on the bed. Her white gown lay there. He stood in the doorway, staring at the bed, then around the room. His eyes scanning to the right where their luggage had been sitting, packed and ready to leave that morning for their honeymoon. His luggage was sitting there… but hers… gone.

"Sylvia!?" He called out again, letting go of the door frame, he made his way into their room, passed the bed to the bathroom, the door was open. It couldn't be any other way, as he remembered kicking it open, busting the top hinge to leave it hanging oddly along with the striker plate on the opposite frame, it too was busted and barely hanging there. Shawn stared at it for a few moments because he couldn't move. His actions last night replaying in his mind, the frightened scream of Sylvia's voice was now clear – he'd scared her last night. The beat of his heart, was starting to speed up.

"Sylvia?!" He called again and turned around, his eyes immediately went to his bags on the floor, absent hers.

"SYLVIA?!" His call to her growing stronger with his fear as he went rushing through the bedroom, his right knee was killing him, making him limp a bit as he charged pass the fireplace, around her favorite chair, to the side hall leading to Angela's room. He threw the door open, "Sylvia?! Oooh… come on… don't." He cried out her name, whimpering as his heart beat faster with each discovery that she was not there. He rushed to her office, stood a moment holding the door knob. "Be here Sylvia… please… be in here." He turned the knob and tossed the door open to face an empty room that almost brought him to his knees.

"No no no no no… baby please… SYLVIA!?! SYLVIA?!!" He ran back through the house, passed her chair to the basement door and threw it open and flew down the stairs, almost falling, skipping over two at a time. "SYLVIA!! SYLVIA!?" He looked in his studio, in the bathroom, and spun in a circle, then rushed to the stairs, up them, favoring his knee he rushed through the basement door, across the house to the kitchen door, snatching it open, he dashed out into the pouring rain, heedless of it he rushed to the garage and threw that door open. Her car was gone.

"Oh come on come on come on – don't do this to me please… don't do this Sylvie… don't do this!" He whimpered, rubbing his stomach, feeling as if he were going to be sick. He ran threw the rain across the road, up to his porch. His SUV and the truck were parked outside on the driveway in front of the garage.

He tried to open the door, but it was locked, and began banging on it.

"MUNDOOOO! CRYSTAL! OPEN THE DOOR!!" He banged, and shook the knob. "MUNDOOO! CRYSTA-A-AL! OPEN THE DOOR!" He banged on, standing out in the wind and weather with the cold deluge soaking him until finally Mundo came to the door, barely able to open his eyes, he backed up letting Shawn in.

"WHERE'S YOUR MOTHER?! SYLVIA-A-A!!! Baby where are you?!" He called through the house, going from one room to the other in a panic.

"Ain't she at the house over there?" Mundo asked yawning looking outside at the pouring torrent, then shivered.

He received no answer, just the sound of Shawn pounding on Crystal's bedroom door. "CRYSTAL?! YOUR MOM IN THERE? CRYSTAL!! WAKE UP… IS YOUR MOM IN THERE?!"

Crystal turned to her back, rubbing her eyes, feeling cotton mouth and queasy. She moaned out a, "HMMM?"

"IS – YOUR – MOTHER – IN – THERE?!" Shawn shouted.

Crystal sat up, looked around and then rose and went to the door. She had on a night sleeper that reached her knees. She opened it to see Shawn standing there dripping wet, blue, purple and green eye, cut lip, hair all over his head.

"What the heck?! What happened?!" She asked.

He peered past her into the room, no Sylvia.

Shawn turned away, leaning with his back against the wall with his knees bent, he rocked, "I'm gonna be sick… I'm gonna be sick." He repeated over and over, hurting everywhere, scared to death.

"What the heck happened?" Crystal asked walking out into the hall to see her brother standing at the end of it looking at Shawn.

"You telling me, my mama left?" He asked staring at Shawn who was leaning over breathing deep, and suddenly he darted across the hall into the bathroom shoving the door wide just making it to the toilet.

For the fourth time, Crystal asked, "What is going on?! What do you mean… mama left?!" She asked her brother.

"They was fighting last night."

"Who was fighting last night?!" She asked stunned. "I need some water, wait a minute." She walked into the kitchen and drank a few glasses hearing the thunderstorm rage outside, Mundo followed her part of the way.

"Papah-Shawn and Jake… got into a big ass fight! Over mama! Shit got crazy as hell! They was thumpin' like a mug!" Mundo informed her.

"Why?" She asked.

"Over a goddamn song! I think. Jake had me play some shit didn't no body wanna hear! Then Papah-Shawn got mad at mama, 'cause Jake was trying to hone in on his shit wit'her! Uncle Jake a scandulous motha'fucka! That ain't no goddamn lie! I ain't know… hell, it was just a song."

"WHAT? Hell naaaw! So where is mama?!" Crystal asked walking back from the sink to the hall way.

"By the looks of it, she done saddled up and moseyed the hell up out o'dodge."

They stood for a moment not sure of what to do, or what that meant for them. "I guess its a good thing rent paid up on that house hm? We may have to end up going back there." She spoke low to Mundo.

Shawn was coming down the hall and heard her.

"Bullshit! Neither of you are going anywhere! You're staying your asses right here! Nothing – and I do mean – nothing has changed." Shawn gasped leaning against the wall fighting back tears. "Don't do this to me guys, its enough for me to deal with, with her gone."

They both felt bad, "I just thought…" Crystal's hands went up, unsure. "… oh it don't matter what I thought. If you're sure… then-…"

"What the hell you talking about?! You damn right – I'm sure! I know I was drunk last night, you too -…" He accused. "…I remember every word I said and I meant it. Both of you, are right where you belong. I don't wanna hear any more about anybody leaving." He finished needing to go sit down, he hobbled to the sofa, sat down thinking and scared.

"Where is she? Where is she?" Shawn repeated trying to think.

"Maybe she gone to the store, Papah-Shawn. You probably all upset about nothin'." Mundo offered as he went and sat on the coffee table in front of Shawn.

"Boy get your butt off the coffee table! You know better!" Crystal softly rebuked him. Mundo stuck his middle finger at up her, making a face as he shook it for emphasis. Shawn reached up and palmed his hand, gently pulling it down. "Not now… not now." He requested low, trying to think. Reluctantly obeying his sister, Mundo rose and took a seat on the sofa next to him. Crystal went into the kitchen to start some coffee, calling from there. "It's true, maybe she did go to the store or something."

"Her bags are gone."

"Oh uh, that ain't good."

"Oooh fuck -…" Shawn groaned and leaned back on the sofa. His stomach hurt, he was fighting down nausea again, and lay back slowly rubbing it.

"Come on Papah-Shawn…its gone be all right… she just… I don't know… you didn't hit her or nothin' last night did you?"

"No! I don't – hit – my wife! No! I know I was furious! Okay… yes I was. But I would never lay my hands on your mother that way. Not ever! I don't give a damn what she's done, I could – never… hurt her-…" Shawn covered his face, about to break down. Mundo felt his eyes water up. "Come on man… we'll think o'somethin'… ah man, I can't take this shit man…" Mundo choked out.

Crystal sat on Shawn's other side, and rubbed his arm. "Here, I made you some coffee." She offered sitting it on the table. "Come on Shawn, you just need to take a deep breath, calm down… and lets think… where would she go?"

"Hey! She with Sheila and them! I saw her van parked at the Super-8 last night when I come in. I bet you that's where she at!" Mundo announced standing.

Shawn moved his hand from face. "What time is it?" He asked right away.

Crystal rushed to her feet and ran to the kitchen door looking at the clock on the wall. "Ten-forty-five!" She called. Shawn sat forward, groaning and stood. "Let's go!" He announced.

"Wait a minute Papah-Shawn-…" This time it was Crystal calling him that. Shawn looked her in the eyes and found a reason to smile, she glanced down bashful, choked up because she loved him, they were a family… and she knew she would be there for him, just as he provided so much for them. "…look… both of yah'll need to wash up first… no offense, but the morning breath is killin' me." She pinched her nose.

"What about yo'ass! Yo'shit funky too! Smell like a field o'dead cattle!"

"All right all right all right! No time for this now! She's right… be ready in ten minutes!" Shawn ordered heading for the door.

"Papah-Shawn I'm staying here in case she call – plus I can call around for you…" She suggested, "…'Cause I just got my hair done, I ain't goin' out in that!"

"You aught'ah be a shame of yo'self! We gotta fin' mama and you worryin' 'bout yo' hair! Shiftless nigga!"

"Kiss my ass Mundo!"

"Aye Aye Aye! Ten minutes! Mundo, she's right, she should stay here in case Sylvie calls!" Shawn directed heading back out, rushing across the road.

Crystal smiled and made a face at her brother. "You better hurry up, standin' up there lookin' at me." She ordered.

 

Shawn made it back into the kitchen, the silence of the empty house once again rushing up around him, saying louder than anyone could, 'She's gone…she's gone… she's gone.' He swallowed the gathering moisture and tried to shake the thought. "I'll find you. You're my wife! If you think you can just leave me… and that's the end of it… nope – nooo lady – no no no…" He spoke to himself, ignoring his physical pain from his battered body. Stripping down, he went to the shower, turned it on and got in, grinding his teeth against the burst of cold, because the warm water hadn't circulated through it yet. He didn't have time. He washed his body down as fast as he could, rinsed, turned the shower off and stepped out grabbing a towel. His eyes fell on her vanity with her perfumes and lotions. He swallowed and looked away, rushing to the sink, he brushed his teeth, and made his lip start bleeding again. He rinsed his mouth over and over trying to get it to stop, frustrated at the time it was taking from him. Finally he pressed it and held it with one hand, then opened the medicine cabinet with the other hand looking for a small band-aid. Finding one, he put it on his lip, working to keep his mouth still and ran into the room. He picked up a bag with his clothes in it. Laying it on the bed, he opened it and quickly yanked out underwear, socks, a silver, short sleeve, nylon-rayon-polyester shirt, that he slipped on, reached into his toiletry bag for his deodorant, spraying each pit of his arms, dropped it in the bag and finished dressing as he tucked his shirt into his black jeans, zipping, snapping the tab and then buckling his belt. He didn't have time to comb his hair or groom his beard.

"My keys?" He spoke to himself looking around the house and on the counter tops for them. He walked into the living room and spotted them on the coffee table. He stared as he saw laying with them, his check book and all of his credit cards beside his wallet.

"Oh no you're not! YOU'RE NOT LEAVING MEEEE! YOU'RE NOT FUCKING DOING THIS TO ME SYLVIA-A-A!!!" The shouting cost him one incredible bang to his skull. He felt like crying. "Nope… I will not accept this! You are my wife! You're my wife! You fucking belong with me!!" He snatched up his main card, the one he was accustomed to using, and put everything else under the cushion of the sofa and headed for the door, once again he felt the cold of the rain pummelling him and didn't care. All he could think about now was getting Sylvia back home with him. He needed to talk to her. To look her in the eyes. To know and understand why she didn't trust him enough to tell him about Jake. This time… he was not about to walk away as he did with the others. Even if he wanted to… he couldn't just walk away this time. This was Sylvia – he wanted her as he'd never wanted anything in his life. She was his wife! If he had to compete and battle with Jake over her… then… so be it… she was carrying his child, he wasn't giving up this time… not Sylvia… not Sylvia. This time it was totally different… this was his life – he wanted this… and he wasn't backing off for any man… especially Jake, but he had to find her first – to bring her home and let her know that.

 

 

Sheila, Ellen and Edwina were up getting ready to check out of their room when someone came knocking – hard – at their door.

"Who the hell is that?! I ain't dressed yet, hang on a minute – let me get in the bathroom." Ellen complained.

"Hurry up then!" Sheila shot, her brows pinched. "Wait just a goddamn minute! Who banging on that door like that?!" She groused.

"ITS SHAWN!!! SYLVIA-A-A!"

"Ah hell! Here we go! The drama continues!" Edwina mumbled, standing on the far side of one of the queen beds.

Outside the door, Mundo shook his head, "Wait Papah-Shawn – dai-amn… let'em open the door man! Have you noticed, her car not here." He further pointed out.

"It could be parked so we can't see it! SYLVIA!!!" He banged again and Sheila snatched the door open.

"Have you lost your – goddamn mind! What is wrong with yo'ass now!?"

"I'm looking for Sylvia!? SYLVIA?!" He barged into their room looking around!

The look that crossed Sheila's face after that – said loud and clear, 'Hang on a minute here!'

"HELL NAAAW! Tell me yo'ass did not just barge into our motha'fuckin room! This shit gettin' way too out of goddamn hand now! Yo'wife is not in this room!?"

"Where is she?!" He croaked out, leaning against the wall by the door. He suddenly folded over and slid to the floor.

"Come on Papah-Shawn… she ain't here man!"

"No! I know she's here! I'm not moving until somebody tells me… where – my wife is!?" He swore, sounding tortured.

Sheila stood at the door looking down at him and then over at Edwina, she sighed.

"Come on in here boy so I can close the door." Sheila invited Mundo, who was still outside. He stepped in so she could shut out the rain. "Look, all bullshit aside, she's not here. We haven't seen nor heard from Sylvia sense we left her at home with you. That's the truth… you didn't do anything to her after we left there last night did you?"

Shawn sat with his knees up, his elbows on them, his hands in his hair, trying to get control of himself. Trying not give in to the sick feeling once again. He had to breath slowly and hold still or else throw up again.

They all stood quietly watching him. Edwina made a face of sympathy for him, looking at Sheila. He reminded her of a dejected little boy. His hair hung over his forehead, dripping from the rain, even with the bruises and band-aid, that was about to fall off, he was a very desirable man. That's the thing, he wasn't a little boy, but a man. She stared at him, and was determined to find out why it was she was so certain that she'd seen him before. She couldn't ignore the little inkling of wishing she'd met him first.

Finally he spoke, his voice low and tortured. "Where would she go? Why did she leave? I didn't mean what I said… I just need her to come back home … so we can talk."

"What did you say?" Sheila asked.

"I was drunk, angry… humiliated… I was pissed off!"

"No duh – what – did – you – say?!" She asked again.

"I said… I was sorry I ever came back here… and – she – she probably thinks that I meant… because of her! No.. no… not at all… I meant because of Jake! I just want her to tell me what she wants-…"

"What do you mean what she wants? What's that suppose to mean?!" Sheila demanded.

"Why … why didn't she tell me about my brother? Why did she keep that from me?" He opened his hands long enough to ask.

"Why do you think she kept it from you?" She asked sitting at the end of the bed.

"I don't know… we're supposed to be honest with each other! I'm trying not to believe she wanted him."

"Hold on here… you trying not to believe it? You know what, I am sick and tired of this shit! Why the hell is it that men think they the only ones feel the need to protect? Women feel that shit too, sometimes ten times as much! No woman, who gives a real shit about her man, wants to put his ass in a situation that might get him hurt! Or – in a situation where he might harm someone else when all she got to do is handle the shit herself! It may not be fucking RIGHT – you see what I'm saying? 'Cause we ain't perfect you understand… we just trying to deal with shit as it come day by day! If it was me, I wouldn't have said shit either! Yo' goddamn brother is the motha'fuckin' problem! Not Sylvia! All she did, was try to keep things under control! Tried to keep from coming between brothers! She don't give a shinning, sparkling diamond studded shit up a flying rats ass – about Jake! Matter of fact, she can't stand the sight of his ass! This I know… because as I said yesterday… I know her!"

Shawn sat with his jaw flexing and tightening, fighting back tears. He put his head back and looked at Sheila. "Please… tell me where she is… please?"

"I don't – know… that's the truth. Why you think I said to her yesterday, to stop running? To stop isolating herself and acting like she alone? There is a reason I said that to her. That's what – Sylvia does! When stuff like this happens, she takes off on her own – and won't say shit to no one. Sylvia will not ask for help. Sylvia will not call and say, I need a friend, can I come by there? You have to find out that Sylvia needs help, then force her ass to take it. That's just the way she is."

"I'm gonna be sick again… move Mundo!" Shawn shot up from the floor and ran outside in the rain, to the back of his SUV and started throwing up again. He thought he'd go mad with not knowing. Feeling the effects of last nights drinking, fighting and now this… it was too much. He had to find her… he had to, he felt he would go crazy if he couldn't.

"Oh my goodness… he so pitiful… aaaw." Edwina pealed sympathetically. "What we gone do? Where you think she went?" She asked.

"Ellen!?" Sheila called out to her, she was still in bathroom. She opened the door, had her cell phone to her ear. "Is that Jose?" Sheila asked.

"Yeah… why?" She returned.

"Ask him will he come and get ya'll?"

"Why? What is you fixin'ta'do?"

"I can't leave here yet. Look at him… I can't leave with that man looking like that. He done sat his ass out on the bumper in the rain. Ask will he come and get ya'll?"

"Ex-cuse me! We gave you gas money!" Ellen pointed out.

"I'll give you half of it back!"

She went in the bathroom and slammed the door, pissed.

Jose was only too willing to come and get her and Edwina. They checked out of their room and went back to Sylvia's house with Shawn and Mundo. With all that was going on the previous night, they didn't get a chance to really look at Sylvia's home. So they did so then while waiting for Jose, as Sheila sat trying to figure out where Sylvia might have gone.

Shawn was at the table with his head down in his arms. He felt like crap… and didn't try to hide it. He would love nothing more than to climb into bed and sleep, but Sylvia wouldn't be in it with him, so he endured.

"Have you eaten anything this morning?" Sheila asked watching him. "You act like you weak."

"I'm hungry!" Mundo let her know.

"Hell me too, what Sylvia got here to cook?" She asked and stood looking through her cabinets. Shawn looked up at her, and thought he would go nuts. He wanted her on the phone calling to find his wife, not something to eat. He stood and went to the phone, picked it up and dialled his parents house. Edwina and Ellen were coming up from the basement. "Sheila… you seen downstairs? Girl it is out of sight! She got that basement laid!" Ellen sang the praise.

"Em hm, and how many times she call to invite us here to visit? Not once! Yeah, she done left Chicago and got too good for Negro's like us." Edwina had to let that be known.

Shawn turned away walking into the living room when his mother answered.

"Hello?"

"Mom… please… tell me… is… Sylvia there?"

There was silence. Then a deep sigh. "No… she's not."

"She's gone… I woke up this morning and she was gone. I don't know where the hell she is! Where the hell to even look! Mom please… oh my God."

"Did she leave a note Shawn?"

"No… no-…" Something suddenly occurred to him. "I'll call you back!" He clicked the phone off and made his way to the basement, to his office room and then onto his computer.

He impatiently waited for it to boot up, he signed in and then went directly into his email account. Sure enough, there was an email there from her.

 

 

 

---

Chapter 79

 

In L. A…

 

Finally the knock at the door came that Oscar T. lost sleep over the previous night. He was waging a battle with himself over not hearing from the man he hired. He needed to know that all tracks of her murder being set up had been erased so that it remained to appear as a random act of violence that she'd fallen victim to. He'd thought everything out long and careful, waited and paid the cost to see it done right.

He sat out by the pool having breakfast, sipping his coffee, combing the paper for news about it. The article was vague at best. Giving out no details as to whether the victim was alive or dead. He needed to know if she was dead. Georgiana was already out, gone on an appointment to see a plastic surgeon. That idea gave him food for thought when it was time to plan her last days.

When the police were finally escorted back to the pool area, it appeared to take him by surprise.

"Mr. Wherrington, sorry to disrupt your morning… but we have a bit of bad news for you."

With rehearsed ease, Oscar folded his paper down, turned in his chair, looking at them as if unsure of why they would be there.

"What? What do mean? Bad news about what?"

"You mind if we have a seat?" Detective Johnson asked, accompanied by detective Shyai Gleason.

"No – of course not. Please do… what is this about?" He asked, very convincing with his concerned inquiry.

"Have you been watching the news sir?" Johnson asked.

"No… not really, my wife and I just returned from out of town yesterday, we were opening a new branch in Texas. I've seen little of anything to be honest with you. Just now reading the papers. Nothing surprising reported here… although its frightening to see."

"What would that be sir, that's frightening, what you've read?" Detective Gleason asked.

"As I said, repetitive reports. I see there was another gang shooting, according to what I've read."

"Yes… yes sir there was. In fact, that particular incident is the reason for our visit this morning." Detective Gleason went on to say, "You see sir, the victim – is your daughter. Deidre Wherrington."

"What?! My daughter?!" He shot to his feet. "But – how… she's – she's lived here all of her life! She'd know better than to venture any where near that area! Surely you're kidding me! When did this happen?!" He blasted, charging into the house calling for Anthony their butler; the detectives followed him in. He was going through the appropriate motions of assuming his daughter was still alive, moving and waiting for them to stop him, to give him the second part of the bad news, that she was in fact, no longer alive. Anthony came promptly at his call.

"Yes Mr. Wherrington?"

"Get my car around front! Find Mrs. Wherrington and tell her-…" He stopped and looked at the detectives. "Where's my daughter?" He asked with his heart pounding in his chest. To them, it looked convincingly of a father in a whirl of anxiety of his daughter's attack, instead – his heart was pounding in anticipation. He needed to hear confirmation.

"She's in critical condition at Cedars-Sinai, she's been coma induced in order to help her through her injuries." They told him.

Oscar felt as if he was going to faint. He couldn't pretend the shock to his system, his mind in a whirl, 'Oh no! She should be dead! Oh no!' He felt his head spinning as a legion of possibilities awakened in his mind. Things that could go wrong were she to live. He couldn't help but agonize over the man he'd hired. Why hadn't he heard from him yet? He felt short of breath.

"Mr. Wherrington? Are you okay? Perhaps you need to sit down sir?!" Detective Johnson asked.

"I have to get to that hospital! Anthony! Find Mrs. Wherrington! Right away! Tell her to meet me at Cedars-Sinai! Right away!"

"Yes sir! I will sir… right away sir!" Anthony turned quickly to do as he was bid.

"If you will excuse me! I have to get dressed, I have to get to that hospital!"

"We understand sir, but… before you do, we will at some point during this day have to talk to you."

"Talk to me? About what?"

"As you said, its important that you get to the hospital, we will allow you that – following that however, we will be requesting an interview with you and your wife."

"I don't understand? What would you possibly have to interview my wife and I about?"

"In good time sir… in good time. We'll leave you. We know where to find you. You had better hurry now."

 

Chicago…

 

Vivian felt dead on her feet. One o'clock hadn't come quick enough for her. She had to be especially careful driving Jake's truck back home because she was fighting to keep her eyes open. By the time she made it home, she was expecting him to be looking for her. Probably not happy that she took his truck without his permission. Entering her home, she quickly saw that she needn't have worried. Her house was quiet and pretty much the same way she'd left it rushing out the door when she woke earlier. Relieved that he wasn't waiting and angry, she was able to relax and immediately noticed that her answering machine was beeping. Taking her shoes off at the door and leaning her umbrella in the corner from the rain, she hung her light jacket on the hook by the door and tipped quietly to the answering machine. There were five messages. One from her parents, one from her sister, another from Laek Chan, and then two from Sheila.

First message from Sheila – 'Vivian? This is Sheila! Girl… pick up! I bet yo' ass went into work! Girl look, call me as soon as you get in… as soon as you do! I'm at Sylvia's – her number is, 608-772-3555! It's important!'

Second message – 'Man you still at work?! Is anybody there? Did Jake drive back here? As drunk as his ass was ain't no way! Somebody answer the goddamn phone! It's Sheila! Girl Sylvia's husband going goddamn nuts here! Her ass done up and left, this man 'bout to lose his mind! Call me back! 608-772-3555! DAMN! Ya'll stressin' me!'

"What the heck?!" She gasped. "No way… oh man… here we go." She picked up her phone and dialled the number as she walked to her stairs and up to the room Jake slept in, the door  was wide open. She'd closed it after checking on him that morning before she left, so at some point he'd gotten up and then laid back down, he was stretched out on his stomach snoozing away.

"Hello?" Sheila answered the phone.

"It's Vivian, I just got in from work and listened to the messages. What's happened?"

"Sylvia left! Shawn woke up this morning and she gone! Just left him a email message. Now he got me calling everybody and they goddamn mama! I'm telling you now, his ass is going nuts!"

"Why'd she leave? Did he do something to her?" She asked standing in the door looking at Jake as he lay there, beginning to stir with her standing in the door talking softly on the phone.

"He say he didn't do shit but kick open the bathroom door and did some yelling. His ass trippin' more today than last night – hang on…" Sheila ordered for her to hear them in the background over the phone, Shawn talking to her, "Ask her has she seen my wife or talk to her… ask her!"

"Well if you hang on a minute I will… damn – calm your ass down! You need to eat something! Yo'ass gone pass out in a minute! Keep this shit up!"

"Did you hear that? Have you heard anything from Sylvia since last night?"

"No… I drove Jake's truck here, got him inside, and I was up this morning and went to work, he's still sleeping." She explained and could hear Sheila telling Shawn what she said, and then Shawn asking, "So is Jake there?"

"She says he's still sleeping." She listened closely to what Sheila was telling him, and then, loud and clear she heard.

"TELL HER – WAKE THAT MOTHERFUCKER UP NO-O-O-OW!!! MY GODDAMN WIFE'S GONE AND HIS MOTHERFUCKIN' ASS IS SLEEPING?!!! FUCKIN' WAKE HIM UP NO-O-O-OW!!!" His booming voice came over the phone as well a banging noise, punctuating his yelling from his fist slamming down on the kitchen table as he bellowed.

"Do you hear what the fuck I'm going through?! Did you hear his ass?! I swear to God Sylvia need to get her ass home now! Wake Jake ass up! I ain't even did nothin' and I got to hear this shit! Wake his ass up now… Shawn wanna speak to him." Sheila insisted, then to Shawn. "Are you trying to have a goddamn heart attack up in here? Are you?! You better calm yo' ass down! All the shoutin' and screamin' in the world ain't gone bring her ass home! Now – calm – the hell – down… breathe goddammit – take a chill pill!"

"I WANT – MY WIFE – HOME – NO-O-O-OW!!!"

"Is you wakin' his ass up?" Sheila asked.

"I don't know what good that's gonna do? He doesn't know where she is, no more than I do."

"Girl! What the hell is your problem?! Hell goddamn naaaw! I know you ain't trippin'! Just wake him up and put his ass on the phone!"

Vivian sighed deep. Her jaw was clenched tight as she took the hand piece from her ear looking at Jake. His arm lifted from hanging down the side of the bed to rub his eyes. With her heart beating, she knew she had to wake him up, but she didn't want to. She wanted him to remain asleep… thus… keeping him there longer. If she woke him for this, it was only going to get him stirred up where he'd end up leaving. With little choice, she finally called his name.

"Jake… Jake… wake up. Um, you need to get up. Jake! Hey… wake up." She went to the bed and sat down, lightly shaking his arm.

"What… what?" He mumbled, drowsy with sleep.

She lifted the phone to her mouth and ear. "Look… I'll call you back. He needs to wake up first and then wash up… I promise I'll ring you back as soon as he's alert."

"Yeah! Rush his ass along! And uh… me and you, we gone talk! 'Cause you trippin'!"

"Look, I don't have time for this Sheila, as I said, when he's awake and alert, we'll call you back, bye." She hung up.

"Hey… wake up Jake. You gotta get up."

"Aaaw man… what? What's going on?" He asked, coming more awake this time, than earlier, feeling his jaw, he went to turn over and cried out, "Oh fuck – my back – aaaw shit… my goddamn back!"

"I know… it's bruised really bad. I tried to clean it up and put some stuff on it. But its going to be real sore. Need help getting up?"

"No… just… give me a minute." He flexed his bandaged hand feeling the pain of it as well, thankful that she cleaned and wrapped it.

"Jake um… you need to get up and wash up. We have to phone your brother."

Jake peered up at her through squinted eyes. Suddenly he sprang into a sitting position, gritting his teeth against the pain of having to move again, earlier he'd gotten up, not long after she'd left, had it not been for the fact that his bladder was bursting – he wouldn't have moved, it hurt so bad. He sat blowing out and taking a deep breath. "Can you stand?" She asked.

"Yeah… I got up once while you were gone. Saw my truck was gone." He cut accusing eyes her way.

"I had to work this morning… I haven't had any sleep. So I took it so I could get at least a few hours." She explained.

He smiled, "No problem. What's going on?" He asked, then grinding his teeth he stood. Pain shot across the surface of his back as he made slow steps for the bedroom door, going for the bathroom. Vivian stood, slowly following behind him, her heart into full reaction from their proximity, he was so wide across the shoulders, so tall – she wasn't all that short herself, but against him, her height was nothing – needing to stay focused on the current events, she murmured softly,

"Sylvia left Shawn."

Jake stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned to look at her.

"What did you say?" He asked, needing her to repeat it.

"Sylvia – left – Shawn."

"You gotta be fucking kidding me?! Tell me you did not just say what I thought you said?"

"Sorry… I did… she's gone. Sheila is there with him now, and she says… he's going absolutely nuts. I heard him over the phone Jake… he is. He wants to speak to you."

"Ohhh FUCK!" He blasted. With a regretful slow motion shake of his head he made his way to her bathroom. "There's a new toothbrush in that cabinet…" She informed him. He nodded closing the door, his body moving slow.

Vivian turned away knowing sleep was not to be had any time soon. She went downstairs into her kitchen and began making coffee. She made herself a couple of slices of toast, and was spreading butter on one when Jake came into her kitchen.

"How do you like your coffee?" She asked without looking up.

"Black." He answered.

She smiled, "Are you being witty, or serious?" She looked to ask, he was standing, still in his underwear. At ease as you please, in her kitchen, as if he were at home. She had to look away, he was obviously in a state of morning glory, there was quite the bulge in his briefs, nothing small about it. With her heart hammering she would have to remember to keep her eyes up and not look down.

"I'm in too much pain for witty… black." He was saying, knowing full well where her eyes had travelled.

"You got it." She returned, taking down a cup and pouring it for him. He was leaning gently against the door jab, his head back.

"Here you go." She sat it on the counter within his reach. "You might want to put your pants on." She suggested.

"It hurts too damn much… am I bothering you? If I am, I'll go put them on." He offered.

"Yeah… I'd like you to put them on. I'll help you." She took off for his pants before he could peal himself from the door jab, she was back in a flash. Instead of his pants, she returned with a pair of black unisex trainers with white stripes down the side. "Your pants look rough, here… I bought these a while back… too long and too big. I never returned them, and so… they've come in handy." She explained cutting the tags from them, then kneeling down in front of him, waiting for him to put one foot in.

He chuckled, she dare not look up, because she knew what would be near her face. "If I were you, I would chill – you're in no condition to get me riled right now." She warned, having an idea of why he chuckled.

"Yes ma'am… lord knows I don't need another fight on my hands right now." He grinned as she stood pulling them up his hairy, big, well shaped long legs and then over his narrow hips, forcing her eyes to stay intently on his, in order to keep from looking down. She snapped the waist band in place and stepped back. "There you go… perfect fit. You want me to call them back now, or you need another minute?"

"Give me another minute." He answered, picking up his coffee, his eyes intently on her as she made her way around the kitchen.

"You hungry?"

"Always… for one thing… or another." He tossed that out just to see how it would come back, after all, this was the lady in red, a black beauty beyond a man's most vivid imagination.

"Well all I'm offering you is breakfast. Whatever other hungers there may be, you'll have to see to yourself." She returned, her heart unable to return to a normal beat. While she was glad that he was attracted, she was not about to be a one night stand, or a quickie while he rested up in her place. She'd spent almost six years giving, giving, giving, and ended up with nothing in return. As attracted as she was to him, no way was she repeating that with him. Besides she knew him already. Knew his type and how he would be, for once in her life, it was going to be all or nothing.

"How do you like your eggs?"

"Over easy." He sighed. For a moment he just wanted to flirt with her so he wouldn't have to deal with what was going on with his brother. He made his way to her kitchen table, easing down into one of the chairs. "So… tell me what's going on?" He asked.

"Simple… for some reason, Sylvia left your brother. He is now going berserk."

Jake bent forward, hanging his head. "I don't get it… why did she leave him?"

"There must be more going on with them than what happened last night. Otherwise, she would still be there."

"Lot of fucking good that does me now! Doesn't matter what may have been wrong with them, it's because of what I did that obviously pushed her out the door. Oh hell… what the hell am I gonna do?"

"Why are you so wrecked over it? Isn't that what you wanted? To split them up so you could have her?"

Jake didn't answer, he sat still, staring into space and thinking.

"Call'em back." He finally decided. She was just about to crack an egg. She placed it back in the carton and went to her phone and dialled the number.

"Hello?" It was Sheila again.

"It's me, here's Jake." She passed him the phone and backed up to her stove, turned it off and then went into her living room and sat on the couch so he could talk in private in the kitchen. Remote in hand, she clicked her television on.

Jake put the phone to his ear, he could hear his brother on the other end breathing deep and unsteady. "Yeah… I'm here." He started off, but Shawn wasn't speaking right away, just breathing deep. Jake swallowed and felt his heart flutter in his chest. He'd never known his brother to be this way before, he'd always come off like he hadn't given a damn, when this happened in the past.

"Shawn?…" He called his name out softly.

"Do you know… do you know what you've done to me?" Shawn asked, clearly choked up.

Jake eased back as if he'd been punched in the stomach, this was different; totally different, Shawn was not being Shawn – he hadn't been sure what Vivian meant by him going nuts, going berserk, but the voice he was hearing from his brother, was not what he'd expected.

"What the hell have I done to you… to make you hate me… so much?" Shawn asked breathing deep and long, trying to keep his sanity.

"I don't… I don't … oh man… I don't hate you man… I don't… I… aaah shit… I didn't know she'd fuckin' leave you man! What the fuck did you do?"

"WHAT?! WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO?!! ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE!?! YOU'VE BEEN COMING ON TO MY FUCKING WIFE!!!"

"SHE WASN'T YOUR WIFE AT THE TIME!!!" Jake defended.

"YOU BASTARD!!! YOU SELFISH FUCKED UP BASTARD!!! SHE'S PREGNANT WITH MY CHILD!!! DOES THAT MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?!! YOU KNEW WE WERE GETTING MARRIE-E-ED! WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN TO YOU?!!"

He heard Sheila then yelling at him, "You are going to have, a goddamn heart attack if you don't calm your ass down! You haven't eaten! You been yelling and shouting all morning, and before you find Sylvia… your ass gone be laid up in the hospital from a stroke! NOW CALM – YOUR – ASS – DOWN!"

Jake covered his mouth in disbelief thinking, 'Oh my God, what have I done? What have I done?' Hearing Shawn then, as he was – brought it all home with startling clarity, he'd gone too far one time too many. He felt like crap because he hadn't wanted to do it. He couldn't explain himself why he'd done it again when he knew that she was different. That she wasn't like any of the others. This one… Sylvia… was his brother's heart and soul – but it was watching him, come home and land on top, again – and just as in the past, who had he hooked up with, Derrick. Jake rubbed his stomach feeling ill. He could hear Shawn trying to bring himself under control. He could hear him sniffing and swallowing as if his eyes ran with tears. He knew the sound of crying… his brother was in tears. Jake felt weak all over.

"Wh – wh – why Jake… wh – why?" Shawn sobbed out softly. "What did I do to you Jake… what did I do man… you're killing me man… I can't find my fuckin' wife man… what the fuck did I do to you? Why meee Jake…why? I'm your fucking brother and you hate me… why-y-y?"

"WOULD YOU STOP FUCKING SAYING THAT!!! THAT I HATE YOU!!!" Jake shouted, shooting to his feet, the pain meant nothing against the pain inside. "I FUCKING WORSHIPPED THE GROUND YOU WALKED ON SHAWN!! AND YOU NEVER GAVE A DAMN ABOUT ME!! I DID EVERYTHING IN MY POWER… TO BE LIKE YOU!!! JUST SO YOU WOULD NOTICE ME!! SO YOU WOULD WANT TO SPEND JUST A LITTLE TIME WITH ME!!! SO THAT JUST ONCE, YOU WOULD LOOK AT ME… AND SAY… wanna hang with me today… not once. I didn't have no fucking body! You had Derrick… Derrick had you! Kathy Ann had Shanna, Shanna had her! WHO THE FUCK DID I HAVE!!??"

"JAKE, WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT??! I WAS ALWAYS THERE FOR YOU!! BUT YOU WERE SUCH A LITTLE PRICK! ALWAYS DOING STUPID SHIT-…"

"TO GET YOUR GODDAMN ATTENTION!!!"

"WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST TELL ME THEN!!?" Shawn shouted back over the phone.

"I'M SORRY SHAWN… I DIDN'T KNOW HOW… OKAY… I DIDN'T FUCKING KNOW HO-O-OW!! EVERYTHING WAS ALWAYS ABOUT YOU! DAD SPENDING TIME WITH YOU!"

Shawn was sitting on the sofa, he had a headache, it was growing worse as the day progressed, he wiped his hand over his face. He knew he needed to eat but he didn't have an appetite, he sighed, reeling in disbelief that this was happening to him. He couldn't believe that after all of this time, his brother was crying over something he'd never had time to figure, all this time, he shook his head at the crazy irony of life, "Believe me brother…" He started low, dizzy from all the yelling, "…the time Dad gave me, you wouldn't have wanted!" Shawn ground out, his veins standing out on his forehead he was so tense, his tears running non stop. "You don't know what he was like back then. You never got your ass beat for every – little – fucking thing not right, not to his specification! Military regulation was the rule because he thought I was one of his goddamn troops. Thank God Jake, he wasn't on your ass day in and day out – like he was on mine! You fuckin' prick! You – you don't know – how many ass beatings I took for shit you did! Scared to death… he would do you the way I'd been done! I WAS FUCKING USE TO IT!!! I WAS YOUR OLDER BROTHER AND NO BODY WAS GONNA HURT YOU… NOT EVEN OUR DAD!!! YOU FUCKING PRICK!!" Shawn ended up yelling again.

"Then… why were you … always with Derrick?" Jake asked with his heart hammering.

"Because he took it too! When I was getting my ass beat, he would dive in begging dad to finish on him ,instead. Mom realized how bad he was, and she intervened a lot. You got spared all of that, and I for one… was glad. No sooner had I recovered from that, when you started in on me. Kathy Ann, giving me hell! I – CAN ONLY – TAKE – SO MUCH! FUCK! That's why – I left – I can only – take so much." He paused, tears rolling, nose running while he sniffed it back, wiping his hand over his face.

Jake wiped away his own tears, feeling as if he wanted to die, he knew what he said was true, every word.

"I just want you to know… my dear brother… this time… you done good. You did it good style my brother. Because… if you'd cut me open – from chest to groin, it – it wouldn't have hurt me half as bad. I don't know where my wife is. I've called everywhere. Her moms. Her friends. Everywhere." He worried, sniffing. "Jake… if anything happens to my wife… to my child that she carries…because of this… I may as well – be dead to you. Because you sure as hell – will be dead to me." He hung up.

Jake held the phone until the called ended signal came on. He clicked the off button and sat so still that Vivian felt she had to come and check on him after all the yelling. Listening to him, she couldn't help but feel the torture he was going through. She gently reached down and took the phone from him.

"I gotta make this right, I gotta make this right. Where did she go? Where the hell did she go? They just got married! Who leaves – after one day of marriage?! Who would do that?! Who would do that?!" He asked tortured, incredulous.; looking up at Vivian for the answer. "I gotta find her! She's fucking going back to my brother goddamnit! How dare she leave him!"

"Maybe it was too much for her Jake." Vivian tried to reason with him. He shot up from the chair, gnashing his teeth from the discomfort. "I don't give a damn! My fucking brother is destroyed because she left him! Yes, I know that I'm guilty of wrong here, but that's different… that's different! She's his wife – she was not supposed to leave him!"

"Huh? How's that different… what are you talking about?"

"It's one thing… for me to hurt my brother… okay… that's me… but … I can't take it… when someone else is hurting him! She's killing him! She better get her ass back there! She better get back there now!" He ground out with tears rolling from his eyes. Vivian stared up at him, shaking her head, giving a smile filled with irony.

"It's finally come to a head." She said softly.

"What?" He asked, wondering what the heck she was talking about.

"Oooh… emotionally infection I call it. Stuff that makes you mentally feverish and ill. Keeps you from growing up, moving on. Keeps women from becoming a woman. Stops some men, from becoming a man. When it finally comes to a head, its nasty, and it hurts… but then… the healing can begin. You know what you have to do now. Right here, right now… your life is in your hands. It can either, continue on as it has… or… this for you… can be your new day." She said simply and walked to the stove.

"You still want those eggs?"

"I gotta get back to Wisconsin."

"Okay… I um, owe you one hundred and twenty dollars, by the way." She confessed and then looked up at him.

"A hundred and twenty dollars? How?"

"Last night… or… this morning. I couldn't get you from the truck into my house. I didn't want to leave you there, and so my neighbor assisted bringing you in… for… two hundred dollars."

"WHAT?! You should have left my ass out there!" He blurted.

"You'd fallen out of the truck, I tried to hold you and couldn't… you were on the ground," She explained so he understood her predicament. "…I didn't want to leave you out there, on – the ground. You would have drowned, it's been raining." She explained and went on to say, "I was out and could have withdrawn the money, but I was so tired, I forgot. All I had on my mind was getting home and into bed."

Jake stood a few minutes staring at her. She was tired, her eyes were red and squinting. "How old are you?" He suddenly asked.

"Twenty-eight… why?"

"Jeez… you're just a baby."

"Excuse me, I'm a grown woman; taking care of myself and have been for some time now."

"You're still a baby!"

"I'm older than you, how old are you?" She asked.

"Thirty-nine!" He informed her.

"Going on fifteen! Which makes me older!"

Jake chuckled, he liked her, she was cute, smart alicky – and though she was attracted to him, he always knew when a woman was, she wasn't moon eyed and gaga over him – she was different, kind'ah like Sylvia. He wondered, how much like Sylvia?

"Anyway… what's the big deal about my age?" She asked.

"You're really young. I've only been with women older than me… very few younger. Matter of fact, I can't think of any I've dated younger." He mentioned.

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Nothing… you're just a baby that's all. I better head out. Don't worry about the money, I'm not hard up or anything. Ummm, thanks … for everything."

"You sure you don't wanna eat before you go?"

"I can pick something up on the way… you get some sleep, you look like you're about to drop on the spot."

"Thanks for – bringing me home." She said.

"I'd love to take credit, but at the time, I had no choice… I'm glad I did anyway. It was nice meeting you Vivian. Stay beautiful." He winked and turned to get dressed and leave.

Vivian leaned weak against the counter, frightened that she'd never see him again. She wanted to go and give him her number, but she dare not seem so forward. She had to let him leave, and if he never came back, she would just have to accept that. She walked into her living room and sat down, waiting for him to leave. She started nodding almost right away. Then leaned to the left, after a few minutes, she scooted down into the sofa, her head resting on the arm and fell asleep.

Jake finally got dressed. Noticing the state of his shirt, he would have to pick one up on the way home. He knew he had to keep moving, but each step and movement hurt. By the time he made it back down stairs and found his keys on the table, she was laying on the sofa out cold, sleeping away.

He stood staring down at her. He couldn't help himself. "You are… indeed – beautiful beyond words," He smiled, "As they say, black and beautiful – yeah, they were talking about you." He murmured softly standing above her. He sighed staring longer. "Don't know if I'm good enough for you little girl, despite what mama wants." Curious, he reached down and touched her soft cheek, his rough thumb coursing over her skin, their contrast was startling. "Naaaw, you don't want me little girl… you see, I've a reputation, for … breaking hearts." He chuckled. "Bet you do too." He winced feeling his back tighten up in pain from leaning over her.

His eyes went to  her door, and back to her. How to leave and lock her in was the question plaguing his mind because he didn't want to wake her. Suddenly he felt weird. He realized that he was feeling protective, truly concerned about leaving her sleeping and depending on a simple lock. Jake couldn't believe it… he was standing there perplexed because he didn't wish to leave her alone like that. She looked vulnerable and alone. What if someone saw him leave? He knew he was being ridiculous. She obviously lived there for sometime and was secure there. He, after all, had never felt such things before with other women he'd dated. Had never felt protective of Doris this way. Shaking his head for being silly his gazed lasted a few moments more on her, and finally, he turned and  left. Testing the door to make sure it was locked. Giving it a good shake and twist of the knob. It was locked.

He walked down the steps to his truck, groaning as he went. Looking around at her neighborhood. Very clean, well kept, immaculate lawns. That was reassuring. He looked up at the sky, it was gray and overcast. Inside his truck, he sat with her fragrance strong in his truck, filling his head; tickling his senses; he wasn't sure about the cologne, but he liked the way it smelled; it made him invision her skin, laying close to her, caressing it, his nose and moust against her skin; breathing deeply; testing to see if she smelled like that all over. He couldn't move – he sat for countless minutes, lost, in a trance, his eyes on her front door.

 

"Cedric… he up! Come look, I think he leaving!"

"Woman you best get yo'ass out that window and fix me somethin' t'eat! I ain't thinkin'bout that white man!"

"Ha'cheap ass! He done got him a piece and fix'in'ta go! We won't be seein' his white ass again no more – he done got what he want."

"Did you hear what I said? Did you hear me say I ain't thinkin'bout that man?! Now get out that window and cook!"

"He just sittin' there… what the heck he doin'? Go! Drive yo'ass off!" She growled, getting tired of looking, but too nosey to walk away, wondering about him as she watched close, "Op! There he go, pullin' out now. So long white man! Thanks for the money!" She grinned and then turned around looking at her husband. "Now – I know you don't think I'm fin'na cook! Shit I'm tired, it's rainin'… I'm going back to bed."

 

Wisconsin…

 

Ellen and Edwina were gone. Sheila sat across from Shawn quiet and expecting him to eat. Mundo stood leaning against the counter, his eyes red from crying, seeing Shawn so worked up. He was finally quiet, but picking at his food. Sheila fixed him a loaded ham sandwich, with a little potato salad and chips on the side. His sister Shanna and his mother were there. Talking quietly in an attempt to keep him calm as they tried to figure out where Sylvia might be. "Son you have to eat, that's why your head hurts. You'll feel better once you've filled your stomach." Gert spoke softly. She and Sheila looked at each other.

He slowly shovelled the food in. His elbow on the table, with his hand over his eyes.

"So let's think. She's not at her mothers. She hasn't called the kids. She could be anywhere. We're going to have to just let her call us. She will son… she will."

"I'm going to Chicago… to visit her mother, just in cause." He mumbled sniffing.

They all stood not sure what to say when slowly Crystal stepped up on the kitchen porch, opening the door and looking at them all with a look of horror on her face.

Shawn looked up and felt his heart leap into his throat.

"What?" He asked right away.

Crystal had her hand over her stomach, she gulped. "Shawn… your…. on the news… isn't your first wife's name, Deidre Wherrington McPherson?"

"Yeah… why?"

"They said, on the news… that she was the victim of a gang war… she's in the hospital, in critical condition."

Shawn sat still and stared at her in disbelief. Suddenly he looked up at the ceiling, scooped up his plate, stood and twisted around launching it against the far wall.