When she was done spilling out her heart and soul Gena walked out of the room and found Markita sitting among her family in the hospital’s hallway.
Out of nowhere, like a sabertooth tiger, Gwendolyn jumped up and went over to Gena, who hadn’t even had a chance to get the door closed.
“You lucky I don’t fuck you up in here. See, see, see, all that shit with them gangster-ass niggas of yours got my mother all fucked up,” said Gwendolyn, getting ready to swing at Gena.
“Fight, fight, fight,” said Bria, who smacked high fives with her twin, Brianna, as they stood on the sidelines as if watching a Jerry Springer episode.
“Calm down; calm down,” said Michael, grabbing his sister’s arm and holding her back.
“No, Michael, let me go. She need her ass kicked. That little bitch wouldn’t even help me get out of jail.”
“Gah Git told me not to get you out,” cried Gena. “And I don’t know what’s going on. Bria told me what happened. I swear I don’t know who’s looking for me.”
“Well, take your ass on somewhere until you figure it out,” said Gwendolyn.
“Stop, Gwendolyn. Just knock it off in this hospital making all this commotion,” said Paula, who would rather see the family quarrel in the privacy of their home.
“Don’t nobody want to hear that shit, Paula. Michael, let me go.”
“You know what, Aunt Gwendolyn? You got so much to say about me, what about you? You broke Gah Git’s heart, running around Richard Allen like a wild crack monkey. You really got some nerve,” said Gena, ready to go toe to toe.
“Bitch, I’ll whoop your little ass. Who you think you talking to. I’m your elder.”
“Whatever, Aunt Gwendolyn. You’re nothing but a crack monkey,” said Gena as she was being pushed to the elevator by Paula and Bria while Michael and Gwendolyn’s boyfriend, Royce, held Gwendolyn back.
“Come on, Gena. Just leave her alone; just come on,” said Bria, pushing the buttons on the elevator panel and trying to close the door behind them.
“Aunt Gwendolyn is crazy, ain’t she?” asked Bria.
“Yeah, she crazy all right. But, she’s telling the truth, though.”
“Gena, it’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself or let nobody else put the blame on you. Regardless of whether or not some mad, crazed lunatic is looking for you, and raped our old-ass grandmother and done damn near killed Gar…”
“Bria, please, I get the point. It’s just that, truth is, she’s right.”
“Well, what are you gonna do? ’Cause everybody is really scared for you, Gena. If that man would do that to Gah Git, Lord only knows what he’ll do to you once he finds you.”
She’s right; there’s no telling what he’ll do. There’s no telling what Quadir has told him to do. I better get out of town and quick. But where will I go?
“You okay? You look like you’re just staring out into space.”
“No, no, I’m fine. I’m okay.”
“So, what you gonna do, Gena? You better get out of town while this crazy man is looking for you.”
“Yeah, I know. I just can’t believe he’d do something like this.”
“Who?”
“Nobody, nothing,” said Gena as she hugged her cousin.
“You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.”
“Where you gonna go?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.”
It’s probably better that you keep your whereabouts to yourself, especially since you got crazy rapists and murderers hunting you down, mmm-hmm, thought Bria as she watched the elevator doors close with her cousin on the other side of them.
Mommie Dearest
Quadir strolled through the back door of his home, nearly scaring his mother to death.
“Quadir!” She rushed to him and embraced him tightly. “What are you doing here? You know you shouldn’t be here! If someone sees you…”
“It’s okay, Mama.” Quadir nodded. “I just wanted to drop by and see you.”
“Quadir, if you needed to see me, you could have just left the code, and I would have met you at the meeting place.”
“I know. I just wanted to see you right now. I didn’t feel like waiting.”
Mrs. Richards exhaled. “Qua, boy, what’s the matter?”
Quadir shook his head.
“This better not be about that damn money.”
“Not really.”
“Not really?” She placed her hands on her hips. “What does that mean?”
“It’s about Gena.”
Mrs. Richards turned back to her dirty dishes. “What about Gena?”
“She woke up.”
Mrs. Richards froze. “And?”
“She knows it was me who rescued her.”
She turned toward her son. “She knows you’re alive?”
Quadir nodded.
“And so, what’s next?”
Quadir shrugged. “That’s the problem. I can’t answer that question.”
“Well, you know I can’t answer it for you. So if it’s those kinds of answers you’re looking for, you’ve come to the wrong place. There’s a mirror behind you. Turn around, and ask away, because that’s the only person who can give you the answers you’re looking for.”
Quadir smiled. She was as blunt as always. And just as truthful. But like all of her truths, this one was also filled with many other truths. He had come here to find an answer, and he knew that she had the key to unlock the code that was keeping him from finding peace.
“Amelia says hi,” Quadir said.
“Nice girl.” Mrs. Richards faced her son. “I really like her. Nice, polite, honest, straightforward, smart. And a doctor, making her own money. What’s not to like?” She turned back to her dishes and continued washing them.
Quadir nodded. “She does have everything going for her.”
“Nice girl.”
“You said that already.”
“Did I?”
“You did.”
“Hmm.”
“Another hmm.”
“Are you two getting serious?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you know?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“Are you sure you don’t know?” Viola asked with a knowing smile.
“A lot of loose ends to wrap up, I guess. I want to make sure one door is closed before I open up a new one.”
“Wise to always do.”
Quadir seated himself at the table and lowered his head to his arms.
“Sometimes doors are hard to close, son,” she told him. “Sometimes, there’s so much behind those doors that our heart won’t let us close them.”
“What if it has to be closed?”
“It’s hard to say good-bye to the ones we love.”
Quadir remained silent.
“You do love her, don’t you?”
Quadir lifted his head and turned toward her.
“I mean, it takes a lot for someone, especially my son, to hang up his playboy hat, and actually settle down. She must have really been something special for you to have done that. I used to wonder what was so special about Gena that could make you do that.”
Quadir remained silent.
“Do you remember, son?”
“Remember what?”
“What was so special about her that made you want to settle down and be with her?”
Quadir lowered his head. His mother had just sucker-punched him in his heart. He did remember. He remembered her smile, her innocence, that killer body. She was his G, and he was her Qua. She was from the projects. He was trying to make a dollar out of fifteen cents. He was balling, trying to shine so that they could have things that they never dreamed of having. He remembered the day he promised himself that he would always take care of her. He remembered when they went to the Bahamas and stayed over at the Valiant Hotel. He remembered the first time they made love on the beach. It was as if the drink was named just for them. He remembered everything about her. Why did she have to fuck with Jerrell. Why? Things would be so much easier if she hadn’t fucked with him.
“Ah, so you do remember,” Viola said. His silence and daydreaming had answered her question.
“She met somebody else.”
Mrs. Richards nodded. “She’s young, the man she loved was murdered, and in her mind you were never coming back. I’m sure enough time passed by. I’m sure she mourned her loss and then moved on. Come on, what do you expect? You were dead, and you were never coming back.” She turned to him. “I remember being met by those doctors in the hospital and being told that you were dead. I broke down right there and fell into that doctor’s arms. The first thing I thought was, my poor baby. And then I thought about how I was never going to see you alive again, how I was never going to get to see that smile of yours, how I was never going to get to hold any grandchildren from you. My Quadir was dead, and he was never coming back. I was preparing for a funeral in my head, and preparing for a life without my baby. Right up until Amelia called and had me meet her in that damn parking garage across from the hospital. She snuck me into the intensive care unit late that night and allowed me to peek into your room. I got down on my knees and prayed so hard to God that night, thanking Him for giving me my baby back, that I couldn’t walk for two days. I had the privilege of knowing that you were alive. I had the ability to sneak in and see you whenever I wanted. She didn’t have those things. Your death to her was as sure as the sun sets in the evening time. She had to move on; she had to live.”