by Roy Glenn
I went to Monika’s room in the intensive care unit. The nurse stopped me from going in the room. “I’m sorry, sir, family members only.”
“I am her family.” And pushed by her.
Jett and I are the only family she has, or at least that she communicates with. Monika and her mother fell out long before she joined the army. When she was fifteen, her mother’s boyfriend grabbed her ass when she walked by him. She told her mother what happened, but she didn’t believe her. She accused Monika of flirting with him and told her that’s what she got for dressing like a tramp. They haven’t spoken since.
A doctor came in to check on her. To be honest, she didn’t look old enough to be a doctor. She told me that Monika had been shot five times. Two shots in the chest, two to the head, one hit her above the left ear. She caught one in her eye. They were not able to save her eye. The other one was in her hand. Knowing Monika, she was probably trying to stop the bullet with her hand. I felt my eyes begin to water.
I sat there with her, holding her hand and talking. I didn’t know if she could hear me or not, but I didn’t care. I wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone; that I was there with her and that she was going to be alright. If 2Pac could take five shots and live, she could too.
“Nick, 2Pac is dead,” Wanda asserted.
“Freeze says he ain’t,” I replied.
Monika was strong, in both mind and body. Next to Mike Black, she is probably the strongest person I’ve ever met. I sat there wondering how it happened.
Was her attacker there when she called me? Was there something I could have done to prevent this from happening? Even if I left right then, the best I could have done was get there in time to talk to the police.
“I still should have answered.”
There was nothing I could have done. But still, I felt like shit. I should have been there. I should have been there watching her back.
“But no, fuckin’ Felicia seemed a little more important.”
The chair began to feel harder than it had all night, so I walked to the window and watched the sunrise. I don’t know how long I stood there, but when I turned around Jett was sitting there.
“How long you been here?”
But he didn’t answer. He just sat there, kinda stone faced. He was pale. Paler than he usually is. He just sat there staring at Monika, he didn’t even blink. Since he wasn’t talking, I went and sat down.
Finally, after about an hour, Jett finally spoke.
“I love Monika.”
“I do too.” I replied.
“I don’t think you understand, Nick. I really love her. I love both of you. You and Monika are closer to me than my own family, man. I was there, Nick. I was right fuckin’ there, Nick! Right there.”
“What happened, Jett?”
But he didn’t say a word. He just kept on staring at Monika. Since he wasn’t talking again, I told him what the doctor said. I couldn’t tell if he was listening or not. I’d never seen Jett like this, and it worried me. Jett was always live. This wasn’t good. They had been my two closest friends, my only family for years. Now one may die and Jett, I couldn’t tell where he was. But it wasn’t good. I had a pocket full of questions and no one to ask.
“She called me, Nick. She said things didn’t go well with Chilly. She said to meet her at her house. When I got there, I heard the shots. I ran to the door, yelling for Monika. I went inside and saw her lying there. I picked up the phone and called an ambulance. She tried to talk. But I couldn’t hear what she was saying. I did what I could to stop the bleeding and make her comfortable.”
Then he stopped talking again. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off Monika. He still hadn’t blinked. Another ten minutes or so went by before Jett started talking again.
“I heard a noise in the back. I got to the back door in time to see someone drive away. I got to my heap and I followed him. He didn’t pick me up. He stopped at a house on 229th street. I put on my gloves and went in after him. He didn’t hear me come in. Caught him in the bathroom pissin’.”
“Who was he, Jett? Was he black or white, what did he look like?”
No answer. Just that pale, glassy-eyed look, like my questions annoyed him. I decided I would save my questions until he was finished. He looked back at Monika. I watched the tears roll down his cheeks. My eyes began to water again. I got up and walked back to the window.
“I popped him in the back of the neck and dragged him into the living room. I put him in a chair and tied him up. I slapped him around until he came out of it. I took out my knife. He tried to get free.” Jett shook his head. “That wasn’t happening. The more he moved the tighter they got. I asked him who he was and why he shot Monika. But he didn’t answer, so I cut him. Just a little cut on the arm to get him bleeding. But he didn’t say shit. Didn’t even flinch. I told him I would cut him every time he didn’t answer me. He just looked at me. So I cut him again. But he wasn’t talking. I worked him over pretty good, but the bastard wasn’t saying shit. So I went back to cutting him.”
“How many times did you cut him, Jett?”
“I don’t know.”
I forgot my promise not to ask any more questions. At least he answered me. But he stopped talking again. Just staring at Monika. It took almost a half hour before Jett spoke again. “We had been there for hours, Nick. Blood was all over the floor. He was shaking and shit. I was really fuckin’ pissed when I saw the sun coming up. I walked up to him and cut his throat.”
“You killed him?”
“That’s what I just fuckin’ said. I cut his fuckin’ throat.”
I sat down in that hard ass chair and buried my head in my hands. “Jett you killed the only person who could tell us who tried to kill her and why.”
“He wasn’t gonna talk, Nick so he had to fuckin’ die.”
“You’re probably right.”
“We don’t need him to tell us shit, Nick.” Jett finally faced me. The expression on his face didn’t change. “That fuckin’ Chilly knows why.”
“What did you do with the body?”
“I left him there.”
“Come on.”
I got up and walked out the door. Jett was right behind me. He drove me to the house, and we went inside. There he was. The sunlight was shining brightly through the window on him. A pool of blood surrounded the chair. Jett stood there and looked at him, while I searched the house. It was empty. No clothes in the closets, no food in the refrigerator. Nothing to go on.
“Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty
I drove Jett’s car back to the hospital and left him there to be with Monika. In the condition he was in, that was the best place for him. He would be of no use to me and maybe just a little out of place where I was going. My destination was Woodlawn Cemetery for Jake’s funeral. I drove back to my apartment to pick up my rifle. Felicia was gone when I got there.
I stood quietly off to the side and watched Mrs. Childers and Chézaráy hold one another and cry. But my eyes were on Chilly. There he was, standing there with that smug look on his face. Not consoling his wife in her time of loss.
That’s because the ugly fuck did it. He probably had Lisa killed, figuring that Jake must have told her what was up.
And Monika.
I was gonna kill him. I looked around the crowd. There was an older couple watching from the other side as Jake’s casket was lowered into the ground. The woman was crying, and the man just held her close to his chest. I figured that was their parents. I wondered who called them? Chéz most likely. Mrs. Childers, I mean Gee, wouldn’t call them. She said they were dead to her. Maybe she felt they should know their son was dead.
I thought about losing my parents when I was eleven. No one really knew what happened to them. One day they just didn’t come home. So my brother and sister went to Mississippi to live with my father’s brother and his wife. They didn’t want me. My uncle said they were just babies; they would raise them in the church, they would be all right.
But I was into too much trouble and my uncle wasn’t having it. Not in his house. Said I was probably the reason my parents didn’t come home.
He didn’t know I was listening.
I never saw my brother and sister again. I don’t think about them much. But I was feeling kinda family. Maybe I would go to Mississippi and try to find them. What would I say to them? They probably don’t even remember me.
It was decided that I would go live with my grandmother. And after a while, it didn’t matter as much. My grandmother was good to me. She showed me much love. She died five years later. But I had a new family by then. And after Black kicked my ass on my first day on the block, they showed me much love too.
While I was daydreaming, the funeral party had broken up and Chilly was safe inside the limo. I followed the limo to their house. I had no idea what I was going to do. Would I simply ask him what happened with Monika the night before? Or would I just drop him because he deserved to die. When the limo arrived at the house, it was crawling with cops. I parked the car down the street. As soon as the limo stopped, the cops opened the door and took Chilly into custody.
“Shit!”
The cops put him in the car, and I watched as the police car drove past me. I looked at Chilly, he looked at me. The feelings were mutual.
I drove away thinking about Monika and before I knew it, I was back at the hospital. When I got to intensive care, Jett was gone, and Detective Richards was there.
“What happened Richards?”
“Simmons, I’m sorry about your partner. I know how it feels to have a—”
“Fuck all that! What happened to her?” I yelled and I pounded my fist against the glass. It frightened the nurses, so I tried to calm down. “Just tell me what happened.” I expected Richards to be his usual arrogant white boy cop self, but he was cool.
“She was shot in the living room; there wasn’t any sign of a struggle. Her gun was still in her shoulder holster. We figure she either knew the guy or he caught her off guard. He came in, she turned, and he shot her. Your other partner,” Richards checked his notes. “James Bronson, says the door was opened when he got there. Paramedics told me, he probably saved her life by stopping the bleeding, before he left the scene. He wasn’t real clear about why he left the scene. Says he went after the guy who did it. He was pretty shook up, so I didn’t press him about it. But we’re gonna need to talk to him.”
“Where is he?”
“He left about fifteen minutes ago.”
I started to ask if he said where he was going, but I knew better. I knew Jett. The only thing on his mind was finding who was involved; and kill them. And he wouldn’t be inviting the cops along. “Thanks.”
“Like I was saying, I know what it feels like when your partner gets shot.” Richards walked away. Maybe he wasn’t such an asshole.
I talked to the doctor before I left the hospital. She told me that Monika’s condition hadn’t changed. “It’s all up to her now.” She promised that she would do all she could. I thanked the doctor for everything she had done. My mind was on finding Jett.
Where would he go? I drove by the house he followed Monika’s assailant to; looking for anything that might lead me to who was responsible.
No cop cars, no yellow crime scene tape. Just in case somebody was watching the house, I parked a couple of blocks away and walked back. When I went inside, the body was gone, and all the blood was cleaned off the floor. There was no trace that Jett had tortured and executed a man there. I went through the house anyway. Nothing.
“What now?”
I didn’t feel like sitting around the hospital, so I drove by Rocky’s spot. I didn’t think he was involved in Monika’s shooting, but I was mad. I had a little payback I wanted to deal out.
When I got there a crowd had formed. The police were standing around a convertible Impala stopped at the light. I parked and approached the crowd. I watched as they took two bodies out of the front seat. “What’s going on?” I asked an old man in the crowd.
“Somebody shot those three men in that car.” The third body was removed from the car. It was Rocky. My first thought was Jett.
“You know if they saw who did it? Was he white?”
“I don’t know.”
I thanked the man and returned to my car. With nowhere else to go, I went back to my apartment. Quietly, I was hoping that Felicia had come back. I needed to see her, but that wasn’t happening. The place was in darkness.
The phone rang.
“Listen, Nick,” Jett said, he still didn’t sound good.
“Where are you?”
“I’m at the stakeout house, by Chilly’s. I know who did it.”
“Who?”
“I can’t talk now. Meet me here.”
“Jett, wait!” I yelled, but he was gone.
I drove as fast as I could to the house. When I got to the house, Jett was gone. I was about to leave when I noticed some papers next to the phone. It was the research Jett was doing on Felix. I picked up the papers, walked outside and got back in my car. I drove down the street slowly. I saw Jett’s car parked on my right. I parked up ahead of him and walked back to his car. I came around to the driver’s side.
“What’s going on, Jett?”
I looked in the car.
“Jett!”
His eyes were wide open. “Jett!” I shook him. That’s when I saw the trail of blood coming from his ear. I opened the car door and Jett fell into my arms.
He was dead.
I asked a lady walking by to call the police. I sat there in the street holding Jett until the paramedics came. I talked to the police and was doing an excellent job of telling them as little as possible, until Richards showed up.
“What’s going on, Simmons? First, one of your partners, then the other. What are you involved in?”
“I don’t know. My case was closed when you found Rollins dead body with a bullet in his brain.”
“I didn’t tell you this, but Rollins was already dead when he was shot. His neck was broken, that’s what killed him.
“How he died don’t matter, he’s dead. You found that formula and arrested Chilly.”
“You think he’s involved in this?”
I looked at Richards like he was stupid. Of course I think he’s involved. Monika met him last night. Whatever happened, happened and she wanted me and Jett to meet her. Now Jett gets popped a block from the fucka’s house.
“What happened here?” Richards asked, taking the hint that I wasn’t going to answer his question.
“I don’t know.”
“Were you with him?”
“No. He called me and said to meet him here.”
“Did he say why?”
“No. He hung up before I could ask him.”
“Look, Simmons, I’m really sorry for you. I know you think Chilly is involved in this. It’s pretty fuckin’ obvious that your partner here did too. We’re a block from his house for Christ’s sake. But please, let us handle it.”
“Yeah right.” I turned and started back for my car.
“Where are you going?”
“I need a drink.”
Chapter Twenty-one
There was no doubt about it, I was drunk. Tripping over the rug by the door was a real indicator of that. Staggering the way I was, the couch was as far as my drunk legs would carry me. I disarmed myself and sat down, fell down actually.
Fortunately for me, I had left a bottle of Johnnie Black on the coffee table. I picked up a glass and started to pour. I decided that was too much trouble. So I raised the bottle to my mouth. I could actually feel the liquor flowing through my body. The only problem, it wasn’t helping. I had just returned from the hospital; Monika hadn’t regained consciousness and was still in intensive care. It didn’t matter. I still had to tell her that Jett was dead.
For the second time, I faced myself with the same question. “If I had only got there sooner, could I have saved him?”
I didn’t know.
/> The only difference was that this time I wasn’t fuckin’ Felicia or some dumb shit like that. I was on my way. His body was still warm when I got there. “If I had only …”
No point torturing myself about it now. Jett was dead and Monika was fighting for her life. I slammed the bottle down on the table. This game had gone on long enough. Somebody was going to have to answer for both of them. But who?
I wanted to hurt somebody, make somebody feel my pain. But who? I was sure that Chilly ordered up both hits, but he was in jail. I gave serious thought to getting myself arrested so I could kill him. But the thought faded quickly. I could get Freeze to arrange it, but I wouldn’t get any satisfaction from just knowing he was dead. I had to do it. I wanted him to feel all my pain. I wanted to look in his eyes before I pulled the trigger.
“Say Good-bye.”
I wanted him to know why he had to die. Not just for me, but for everyone he terrorized over the years. Johnnie Black called out to me, as if he wanted to drink to it. I gladly obliged him. “A drunk never argues with his bottle.” It was almost a rule. A good soldier always follows rules. No, a good soldier always follows orders. “What do drunks do?”
They drink!
Stupid!
Saturday July 25: 11:19AM
When I woke up, the bottle was empty, and I was on the floor. I stood up slowly and looked around the apartment. I took a moment to think about how I got that far away from the couch and who made this mess. I needed someone to blame. I looked at the empty bottle. “Had to be you.”
I was hungry, but I didn’t feel like cooking, so I grabbed my keys and looked around for my guns. I didn’t see them, and I didn’t care. I would find them when I got back. The liquor store was my first stop. My first drink of the day convinced me that it wouldn’t be my last. I walked to the bar on the next corner.
“Might as well kill two birds with one stone.”
Since it wasn’t quite time for lunch, and a little too late for breakfast, I had steak and eggs. Johnnie Black replaced the orange juice. While I sat there getting my eat and my drink on, I gave some thought to, you know, stop feeling sorry for myself and doing something about it. All this drinking wasn’t gonna bring Jett back from the dead or make Monika open her eyes. And on top of that, it wasn’t making me feel any better, just drunker.
