Black Love

by Brenda Hampton

  “Baby, pleeeease. Please get up and don’t you dare scare me like this.”

  Nate’s eyes stared into mine. Blood dripped from his crooked mouth that was wide open. His body was heavier than I had ever remembered it being, and when my eyes shifted to his chest again, it was wide. I swallowed vile that had risen in my throat and grabbed at my hair. I could feel myself on the verge of losing it even more, and after I moved Nate’s body off my lap, I hovered over him. My whole body quivered, my cries were now uncontrollable.

  “Yes!” I shouted and pounded my fist on the ground. “I said I would marry you, damn it! Are you listening to me, Nate! Get up and let’s go hooooome!”

  With his blood painted on my face, I placed my trembling lips over his. He didn’t reciprocate nor did he wrap his arms around my waist like he’d normally done whenever our lips touched. I was in a complete daze as I dropped my head back in agony. All I wanted to do right now was die right along with him.

  “What have I done?” I shouted so loud my own ears rung. “Please forgive me, God, please tell me this is not happening!”

  My situation was very real, and the moment I heard sirens coming, everything was clear. This wasn’t a dream. Nate was dead—all because of me. That was a hard pill to swallow; I would never be able to live with myself after this. Flashbacks of what had happened kept flashing before me, and as soon as the first police car was on site, I couldn’t wait to tell the officer what Demetrious had done. One car pulled up, then another and another. The bright white lights made my head spin; I heard an officer yelling for me to raise my hands in the air.

  “Get’em up!” he shouted. “Up high so we can see them and do not move!”

  I slowly lifted my hands in the air and could feel Nate’s blood dripping down my arms. Nearly my whole body looked like I had rolled around in red paint. I was sure that my appearance probably made the officers fearful.

  “I . . . I don’t have anything on me.” I staggered as I tried to stand, but my legs were so weak they wobbled. “Help him, please. My . . . my boyfriend . . . fiancé has be . . . been shot.”

  “I said do not move!” said an officer. “If you move, we will shoot! Get back on the ground, now! On your knees and keep your hands in the air!”

  Quickly thinking about all of the unfortunate black people who had lost their lives in instances similar to this, I did as I was told to help defuse the situation. My cooperation didn’t do much good, because minutes later, I was rushed by several officers and flattened on the ground. One officer had his knee pressed into my back, another was putting handcuffs on me. I kept crying my heart out, trying to tell them I had done nothing wrong.

  “My ex was the one who shot him! Not meeeee! It wasn’t me. Please take these cuffs off me so I can try to save Nate! He needs help!”

  An ambulance arrived nearly ten minutes later, but Nate was DOA. The cuffs had been removed, and as two officers stood next to me, questioning me about what had happened, I remained in a daze. I stared at the white, blood stained sheet that covered Nate’s body. One shoe was off his foot that was barely covered by the sheet. His swelled right hand lay flat on the ground, not covered by the sheet either. I don’t know why I expected him to get up and come hold me, but for whatever reason I did.

  “Ma’am, are you ready to tell us what happened here tonight? And if you have any identification on you, I’m going to need it.”

  My mind was racing; I couldn’t even think straight. I stuttered as I tried to explain what had happened, told the officers why my car was parked closer to the pond and shared my identification. The one thing I was clear about was telling them who had done this. Demetrious Simmons had, and I also gave the officers his address so they could go arrest him.

  “Please don’t let him get away,” I said to a nice Caucasian officer who kept looking at the scene, shaking his head. “He’s going to flee. If you don’t go after him tonight, he’ll never be caught.”

  “We’ll get’em,” said the officer. “Just try to calm down. If you need someone to come here and pick you up, you may want to go ahead and call them. We may also need you to come down to the station. Are you able to come there?”

  I nodded as by body quivered all over. It was nearly ninety degrees outside, but I was cold. I kept rubbing my arms, and every time I glanced at Nate, I squeezed my arms to make sure this was real.

  “I will do whatever I have to, to help, but why is he on the ground for so long? Why isn’t anyone helping him? Can’t you see he needs help?”

  The officer was blunt. “Sorry. We can’t help him because he’s deceased. But if you need some help, allow us to help you. Should I call someone to . . .”

  “No,” I said through gritted teeth. “I just want him to get some help like right now! Somebody can save him. I know the paramedics can do something to bring him back.”

  Two officers held me up as they escorted me over to an ambulance. I was placed on a stretcher where I gazed at the yellow crime scene tape, saw hundreds of flashing lights and my man still dead on the ground. I thought it would make me feel a little better when they removed him, but it was so gut wrenching to observe the paramedics lifting him from the ground, placing him on a gurney and putting him into another ambulance that was on the scene. The only thing left now was his blood that stained the concrete. I couldn’t take any more of this. I covered my face with my hands, and all I remembered after that was passing out.

  The following day, I was in a hospital damn near losing my mind. Everything was now clearer. This was my reality, and as I sat in bed watching a reporter on Fox 2 News, he’d painted a sad and ugly picture about what had happened last night. So did a so-called toothless witness who claimed he’d seen everything.

  “I was over there on the other side of the park when I saw some people having sex. I couldn’t believe it, but when I got closer another dude came up and was like . . . like what the fuck is going on here? Next thing I know, the two niggas started banging. One ran and the other ran after him. That’s when I heard pow pow boom boom bang! It was like a warzone or something. I think they were shooting at each other, and after I saw the broad run away, that’s when I pulled out my cell phone and called the police.”

  I wanted to turn off the TV, but when the reporter said they had a man in custody, I continued to watch. Minutes later, I saw two officers escorting Demetrious out of a house. His hands were cuffed behind his back and his blue T-shirt covered his face. I knew it was him because of his dreads and tattoos on his arms. Seeing this made me break down again and buzz for a nurse. She was there in less than a minute.

  “I need to go home,” I said. “Why am I here? I want to get out of here, now.”

  “Why don’t you speak to the doctor, before you decide to leave here right away? You collapsed yesterday. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine.” I tossed the cover aside. “Where are my clothes? I need my belongings, please.”

  The nurse walked over to a small compartment in the room and pulled out a plastic bag. She gave it to me. Inside was my blood stained clothes, shoes and a few pieces of jewelry.

  “I don’t think you want to wear those clothes out of here. It may be best for you to call a relative or friend to come get you. Also, an officer is waiting outside to speak to you.”

  She walked away, and within a few more minutes, the same Caucasian officer who was on the scene came into the room. He asked me additional questions about last night; I answered to the best of my ability. Once he was done, he gave me my wallet that had been left in my car and told me it had been towed to a tow yard where I could pick it up.

  “Call someone to come get you. You’ll be okay, even though witnessing all that you did is probably pretty difficult for you to grasp right now.”

  I wiped my hand down my face and sighed. “I can’t even express what I’m feeling right now. I just want to die. I don’t deserve to live another day.”

  “But you have to. I’m sure your boyfriend would w
ant you to too. He seemed to be a decent young man, and I applaud all men and women who make sacrifices for our country.”

  I sat speechless with my head hanging low. I hated myself, no matter what he’d said. Nate probably hated me too. There was no doubt in my mind that he probably wished I was dead, instead of him.

  “Are you going to call a relative?” asked the officer, interrupting my thoughts.

  “No. I just want to be alone. I need to be by myself, and if you don’t have any more questions, would you mind leaving?”

  For whatever reason, the officer was being extra nice to me. He offered to take me to the tow yard to get my car, and had even asked the nurse to give me some clean items to put on before I’d left the hospital. I didn’t get home until almost eight o’clock that night. It felt like I was living in the devil’s lonely hell. I had cried so much that my face was numb. Showered until my fingertips showed wrinkles. And as several more days and nights passed, I sat around the house with every single curtain closed, often staring at the white walls. I barely ate, didn’t drink much either. My cell phone battery was dead; it didn’t matter because there was no one I wanted to talk to. I didn’t even watch TV. All I did was listen to music and think about Nate. About the day I’d met him, which was at a Chipotle restaurant. Thought about the first time we’d made love, which was at his place. About the way he made me laugh when he tickled me all over, and how I would rub his feet to help take away his pain. We’d had some good times together; it was so tragic it had to end like this. Why, I kept asking myself, why in the hell did I ever start messing with Demetrious again? I’d often heard that going back to previous lovers served up major consequences, but surely not like this. Why me? Why did I have to deal with this pain, and why did Nate have to die? I thought of him, as well as his mother. Their relationship was close. I figured she was probably catching hell right now, and my thoughts of her caused me to roll myself in a ball and sob like a baby. I wanted to stop crying, and when I thought I’d heard Nate’s voice telling me not to cry, I slowly wiped away my tears and sat up in bed. My eyes shifted around the room, but he wasn’t there. He was gone, and no matter how many times I thought I’d heard his voice, no one could pull me back from my misery. The only way I would heal from this was if he came back to me.

  Nate

  Chapter Five

  You win some, you lose some. I couldn’t say exactly where I fit in yet, but what Demetrious had done to me was brutal. Monai had done me wrong too, but what Demetrious had done had taken the cake. I guessed he was just that mad; I would’ve been mad, too, after an ass kicking like the one I’d given him. He’d definitely underestimated me, and in the end he showed who the real coward was. Going to jail would be no picnic, and for the rest of his life he would pay for what he’d done. As mad as I was at Monai, I didn’t want her to have to pay for this. Yes, she fucked up, but as I’d said before, I understood how and why some people made stupid mistakes. That love stuff was capable of messing up a lot of people, and, sometimes, people got so confused about who was being real and who wasn’t. The way I see it, Monai was confused. Yeah, she still had some feelings for Demetrious, but that didn’t mean she had to rush back to him and start giving herself to him again. She knew he was no good; she also knew what kind of man he was. He was jealous, a woman beater and a damn good manipulator. So many women had fallen for his games, but Monai should’ve known better. She could have had it all. Things that many women dreamed of, but like so many women do, she chose to settle for less. That was her choice. I wasn’t mad anymore, and at this point, I felt sorry for her, simply because she’d made her bed. Now, she had to lay in it for a while. There was nothing I could do about that; after all, I wasn’t the one in control of things. I just had to play by the rules, in hopes that Monai would somehow survive this and be able to move on with her life.

  My funeral had started, and to my surprise the Home Going Celebration my mother had arranged was packed! I hadn’t seen some of these people in years. I couldn’t believe when my seventh grade teacher had shown up. Not to mention many of the relatives I hadn’t seen in a long time. I barely remembered some of their names, but I was grateful to them for showing up and supporting my mother at a difficult time like this.

  “He was a good student,” Ms. Purdue said to my mother. “I wished I had more like him.”

  I smiled, but when a long lost cousin started hooting and hollering and crying her heart out, I wasn’t moved. It was obvious that she was seeking attention.

  “Lord, whyyyyyy?” she whined while fanning herself. “You didn’t have to do us like this! I had just talked to Nate and I’mma miss all those conversations we’d had. He was like my brother! Auntie Viv I am so, so sorry.”

  She threw her arms around my mother; I just shook my head. I hoped my mother knew her crackhead ass was lying. She was probably trying to get a piece of the insurance money I’d left my mother.

  “It’s okay, Shyron. Go over there and sit down,” my mother said.

  While choked up, Shyron took a seat on the front pew and kept looking at me while dabbing her eyes with tissue. If I could’ve jumped out of the casket and slapped her for being so foolish, I would have.

  Other than her, everyone else’s presence seemed to help my mother. She had taken the news about my death real hard. I wished like hell I wouldn’t have ever followed Demetrious to the park and had gotten on the highway to go see my mother instead. She had cooked my roast, sweet potato pie and everything. Had been waiting for me to come, but the only thing she’d gotten was a visit from the cops, telling her I had been killed. In that moment, all I wanted to do was tell her I was okay. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and thank her, again, for all she’d done for me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t. But with her faith in God, she would be okay. I knew that for a fact, and needless to say, she had set me up real nice today. We had already talked about this, and she knew that thirty minutes was my limit. No singing, no shout outs, no piano playing . . . nothing. I wanted this over with quickly, and no one, not even her, was to see me lowered into my final resting place. Finally, I was there, but I was slightly disappointed that Monai hadn’t changed her mind about coming. She’d felt guilty and was afraid to face my mother. That probably was a good thing today because my mother wasn’t happy about what she’d heard. She’d been whispering unkind things about Monai to herself, so it was best that Monai kept her distance. Well, kept her distance from my mother, not necessarily from me. I said that because, when everyone had vacated the premises, Monai had parked her car far down the street. She made her way to my gravesite, looking beautiful as ever in a pink and black, off-the-shoulder dress and high heels. Her braids were down and hung several inches past her shoulders. The makeup she wore was minimal, and behind the dark shades she wore, I could see the bags underneath her red eyes. As she neared my gravesite, she removed her shades. Her eyes narrowed to slits. Many tears fell; my heart truly went out to her.

  “Hey you,” she whispered with flowers in her hand. “Sorry I was unable to make your funeral, but I just couldn’t do it. I hope you’re not mad at me, and I had to come here today to speak to you alone. I’ve been so miserable without you. Life is not the same, and I don’t know if I’m coming or going at times. Every time I start feeling real bad, I—” she paused to wipe her tears. Before she continued, she laid the flowers in her hand on top of my gravesite. “I think of you. Day and night, I think about us. After all that has happened, you may not think I love you, but maaaaaan, I know now how much I really loved you. I will always love you. I came here to tell you again how sorry I am. I’m so sorry, Nate, and if I could take your place right now, I swear to God I would.”

  Her words tugged at my heart. Damn, I hated this. It didn’t have to be like this, but then again, I guess it did.

  “Well, Nate, one more thing before I go.” She reached into her purse and pulled out the suede ring box I’d thrown at her. She laid it on my grave. “Ask me again. Please ask me again.” She paused and wa
ited, as if I had asked her to marry me. “My answer is yes. Yes I will marry you. I stand here today as your loving wife. To have and to hold you forever. In sickness and in health, for rich or for poor. We’ll have our love by any means necessary. Death will never be enough to do us part and I do, I do, I do.”

  She opened the box and slid the diamond ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit. As she wiggled her fingers in front of her, she looked at the ring and smiled. Sadness was trapped in her eyes, but her smile was wide.

  “There,” she said. “I’m officially Mrs. Nate Keith Reynolds. You may now kiss your bride.”

  She blew me a kiss, and with a smirk on my face, I puckered to receive it and kissed my bride.

  “Alright, my dear husband. I’m getting ready to go. I love you, and I hope to come back and chat with you real soon. I don’t know when that’ll be because you know how I feel about this. So don’t hold it against me, okay?”

  Monai stood still like she was waiting for a reply. And after remaining silent for about five long minutes, she walked away. She remained tearful all the way to the car. When she got inside, she gazed at the ring, before dropping her forehead against the steering wheel. While holding her chest, she was so choked up that she couldn’t catch her breath.

  “Why meeee?” she whimpered. “Damn it, why did you have to diiiiiie?”

  I sat on the passenger’s side of her car and released a deep sigh. The tips of my fingers were against my forehead so I rubbed it. I hated to see her like this. Wished I could do something to stop her pain, but I could only do so much.

  She started the engine, and as she pulled away from the curb, I watched the speedometer climb to sixty-five miles per hour on a busy, two-lane road. She swerved in and out of traffic while smacking away tears. I reached for my seatbelt then paused. There was no need for that, but at least I could send her a warning.