My Favourite Muse

by Atabo Mohammed

CHAPTER TEN

  Life is bizarre.

  There used to be moments in Kim’s life when she experienced the purest kind of living. She was always smiled at, loved and cared for. It was a time when she was the most important human on earth to her family. It was a moment when the world and everything in it was beautiful. She was five at that time.

  Kim's father was around and obviously in love with her mother. He used to carry Kim in his arms and tango with her until she sleeps while her mother watches them with warm eyes. Kim could bet it was one of her mother’s best moments too; they were a family.

  Sometimes, they all sit on the floor and eat pizza or play cards or hide-and-seek. Her parents used to read her bed time stories every night before she sleeps. And though she didn't like school that much, they tried to make learning easier and fun for her at home.

  Kim wished such moments could come back for one minute.

  There she was, alone in her apartment, sick and broken. The way things changed overnight after a single bad deed will affect her for the rest of her life. She feared what the nearest future would bring; in fact, as far as she's concerned, there's no future.

  Kim glanced at the papers containing her new possessions on the bed and wondered what use will it be to have the world but without happiness; only terrible thoughts of causing death to a kind-hearted man. The feeling was torturing! She felt like falling asleep and never to wake up again.

  After Owen Craig had left her apartment that afternoon, she thought about what he had said with regards to change and second chances. It gave her a little bit of hope actually; but when she slept off and was awaken by horrible nightmares about Jason and her mother again, she regarded his words as false hope.

  People are what they are at the end of the day. Even with the reassurance of hope, conscience will never let her have inner peace. Even if Jason would forgive her; hell won't.

  Kim yawned and stretched her arms wide. She felt both physically and emotionally exhausted. Yet, she couldn't sleep. And worse of all, something had assured her a good sleep will be beyond her reach for some time. Those nightmares will always be entangled with her inner vision that she'll see all the horror any time she closes her eyes. And if that happens, then life will be miserable for the rest of her days. She just realises; she's in the grip of her own hell!

  Thoughts of suicide and self destruction pre-occupied Kim's mind. Death it is! She believes she should get the kind of death that would make her suffer a great deal before dying. To be free is to embrace her hell!

  Kim limped to the kitchen, got a bottle of Tequila, limped back to the living room and sat on the rug. She has to drink off her misery: she must.

  She recalled the black woman's preaching back at the hospital that morning. She couldn't feel the presence of God by her side at the moment. What she feels right now are more of the whispers of the devil. Even God won't be happy with what she did or with the kind of person she is; or both. Therefore, the thought of God being with her is kind of funny and absurd.

  Right after she took the first shot, the door bell rang softly. She ignored it at first, but it kept on ringing. It's obvious that whoever it is at the door won't stop until she opens up.

  Who the hell could that be?

  Her first guess was Owen; maybe he forgot something or had a change of plans so he might decide to come back. And besides, only Owen should knew she's inside. She limped to the door and opened it. The person standing right there almost gave her a heart attack!

  Standing before her was the six-foot former high school female basketball point guard, Michelle Curtis; Jason's mother.

  "Hello Kim."

  Kim never heard a colder voice.

  "Mrs. Curtis"

  Kim had met Mrs. Curtis a few times earlier. Jason first introduced them when Mrs. Curtis once came to the store where they used to work; the three of them had lunch together after. Kim had found Mrs. Curtis kind of entertaining. And after she left, Kim told Jason he had a very warm mother.

  "You don't know my mom, she is something else." That was Jason's reply.

  She understood what he meant from the kind of look he wore when he made the statement. Kim confirmed it when they visited her a week later.

  Mrs. Curtis is a high school basketball female team coach. Kim and Jason had visited her in the school where she coaches and when she saw them together, she wore a disapproving look. Somewhere along the line, Mrs. Curtis made comments that Kim had found a bit racially inclined. When it was time to go, there were no goodbyes. They just left after an argument between mother and son.

  "Your mum is really something else." Kim said to Jason, much later when they got home.

  Kim stood speechlessly before a human inferno starring menacingly at her, about to engulf her completely.

  She had no idea what's going to happen in the next minute but her mind settled for the worst. This could be the beginning of her hell.

  She was right; the worst did happened.

  Michelle strode slowly into the living room; an intimidating whiff of air whirled around her like a cape. Her black jacket was a little wet by the rain; and she walked tall with the usual strong facial lines. Her eyes were sore and red. Kim closed the door and turned back to face her.

  "Mrs. Curtis I..."

  "I was at the stadium last night, watching my girls about to win a game in the State High School Tournament when I got the call. It always excites me to see them jumping up and down; savouring their victory. It makes me so proud; reminds me of the great job I had put them." she paused to hold back the emotion swelling up in her chest. "I've done a great job on my son just like I did on the girls. But all is worthless now. Everything I worked for, all my life, is now gone. My husband is gone, and now Jason."

  "Mrs Curtis I..."

  "The first time I saw you, I thought you were a good friend to my son. I thought you would do all it takes to look out for each other, and behave. But obviously, I was wrong."

  Kim saw that coming.

  "You were such a bad influence. I knew it from the start, that nothing good would come out of this friendship, and you proved that point: you are up to no good"

  "No..."

  "Shut the hell up!" Michelle’s voice was high. "You have nothing to say to me; nothing you’d say that will convince me you are not partly responsible for what happened to my son. So you better shut the hell up before I'm moved to kill you. Just shut up... Shut up!" and she broke into tears.

  Kim watched the woman. Never had she been so gripped by such fear; never had she seen such raw pain and sorrow from a mother that lost an only child. Never had she felt so bitter and broken for being responsible for an ill action.

  Kim went down on her knees and broke into tears. Her sprain breathed pain and she couldn't stand on one foot for long. But there's too much pain to bear; too much burden to take and too much loss to grieve. She raised her head up to look at Michelle but froze at what she saw: Michelle had a .38 pointed to her head!

  "No!" She screamed; her ankle didn't hurt anymore

  "Shut up!" Michelle screamed back.

  "Mrs. Curtis, please..." Kim's hands were on her mouth.

  "I've been dying to do this to you ever since I got the call that my son is killed in a car crash while drinking and driving with a white bitch. He died because of you; you let him drove around while drunk. Give me one reason why I shouldn't blow your fucking head off"

  "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."

  "I say shut the fuck up" She yelled and burst into tears again, still wielding the gun at Kim.

  Kim stopped talking; her eyes danced between Michelle’s face and the barrel. Michelle calmed herself; her tears have already over flown and she sniffed a dozen times. Kim was still on her knees.

  Michelle lowered the gun, slowly. "You are nothing to me. As far as I’m concerned, killing you will do me a lot of good. But I just figured that you're not worth it. I'll let you live so that the guilt of the evil you did will keep haunting you that you'd wish I had k
illed you now." She put back the gun in her bag and walked to the door, she turned while her hand was on the knob. "I'm going home to bury my son. And I swear to God, if you show up at the funeral, I will use the gun on you." She banged the door.

  Kim remained on her knees for a moment, crying. That was the first time ever she experienced the feeling of being so close to a gun barrel. It was like the angel of death was the guy standing right there, starring at her in the eye. It was some nasty experience.

  She staggered to her feet, limped to where the liquor bottle was and attacked it with the whole of her might. She figured she needs lots of the liquor, some cigarettes and a bullet in her head.

  Kim drank the whole bottle and wanted more, but couldn't find any more in the house. She couldn't believe she was out of liquor; she sat in the living room, half drunk and pretended to be sober.

  You are a heartless bitch, Kim...

  You killed your own friend...

  Your grandmother is dead; now you are all alone...

  You are really a nasty bitch...

  Now you are a loner and worse of all, you are sharing your inheritance with someone you've never met before...

  Nicole Ingermanson... A doc.

  Nicole must be a bitch too. She must be a lousy bitch; just like me...

  And what the hell did Michelle mean by saying she'd use the gun on me if I set foot at the funeral?

  This was my best friend for fuck's sake! We were supposed to have died together...

  I deserve to be at the funeral to at least throw a flower before he's buried forever. Just like I did to my mum...

  And how come Michelle has a gun and I don't?

  If she can have one, I see no reason why I shouldn't...

  Besides, packing heat in Seattle is a necessity, at least for protection against people like Michelle...

  Fuck it!

  I should get a gun...

  And I will go to the funeral. Nothing and no one is going to stop me.

  Kim stood behind a tombstone and watched the funeral procession from a distance. It was raining as usual. She had no umbrella; only a thick raincoat with a big hood over her head. Rain drops fell on the leather hood with loud thudding. She could see splashes of raindrops as they hit dozens of black umbrellas towering above the people’s heads.

  Most of them were black folks, with few white folks— possibly Jason's friends from college. The reverend was standing before the crowd. Though Kim couldn't hear what he was saying, she knew it'd be the usual burial sermon.

  She wished she was with them. She wished she could touch her best friend casket and shed her tears on it. She wished she could talk to Michelle or give her a hug. Hell! She wished all this had never happened at all.

  The thought of Michelle's vow to shoot her on sight sounded absurd, but a part of her was still afraid. And besides, even if she wasn't afraid of Michelle’s gun, she couldn't stand a possible humiliation from her in public.

  Kim turned away from the procession and adjusted her position behind the tombstone. She drew up the hood forward. The rain got a little heavier but her view was clear. A sea of tombstones looked back at her; and today, her best friend’s would be one of them. It's unbelievable.