Tyrant

by Tiana Laveen

  She kept dancing, lost in her own world, and only snapped out of it when the doorbell rang. Her mother had arrived. She opened the door and hugged her, while Tisha was jumping all over her grandfather, her red and green pinstripe pajamas a blur of movement. Nita gathered her parents’ coats and hung them in the hall closet. She then found Olive serving them peppermint tea and Christmas sugar cookies… at 8:04 A.M.

  “Olive! We’ve got something for you, too!” Mama handed over a big red box.

  “Thank you so much!” Olive placed it under the tree, with all the other presents that were to be opened shortly. It was then that Nita noticed a big silver box with gold trim and a red bow with her name on it… written in Hunter’s handwriting.

  “Hunter is here, Grandma. You can meet him.”

  “Oh?” Mama said, looking about. “Where is he?”

  “In the shower.” Olive sauntered away to the kitchen. Nita didn’t miss her mother’s lips twist as she eyed her up and down… in that ‘church-sermon-you-know-you-ain’t-right’ sort of way. Mama clutched her purse and started drilling Tisha about what colleges she wished to attend.

  “I want to try to get into Emory University.”

  “Oh! That’s a good school,” Nita’s father said with a big smile. “Shawn graduated from there, Judy,” he said to Mama. Her parents engaged in small talk with the girls when in the distance, Nita could hear Hunter making his way down the stairs. He entered the room sporting a black button-down shirt and casual pants. He looked and smelled amazing. With a tilted smile, he extended his hand to Nita’s father.

  “Hello, Mr. Percy. I’m Hunter, Nita’s boyfriend.”

  Listen to him, sounding all professional and shit. Hunter is a con artist to his core. It took all of her to keep from laughing.

  “It’s so nice to meet you.”

  Daddy stood and shook his hand, looking up at Hunter as if he were some strange tree. Nita swallowed a chuckle at her father’s reaction. He was clearly shocked by Hunter’s height and build.

  “You tall, man. And big. Not like fat; I can tell that’s all muscle. Damn, what did your mother feed you? Concrete?” The room erupted in laughter as Daddy tried to put a bit of bass in voice, too. Daddy was only five foot nine and the two looked hilarious standing like that.

  “That’s funny.” Hunter laughed. He released Daddy’s hand and the poor thing looked red.

  “Daddy, did he hurt you?”

  “Naw, he ain’t hurt me! It was just a friendly handshake!” Daddy snapped, defending his masculinity. This only caused her and Mama to laugh more.

  “I didn’t mean to squeeze your hand, Mr. Percy. I guess I’m a little nervous,” Hunter said.

  She knew he was lying; she could feel it in her gut. Hunter was showing off, showing Daddy in some primitive, caveman way, that he could handle business.

  “Hello, Mrs. Percy. I—”

  “Don’t shake my hand,” Mama said meekly, her expression cheeky.

  Ignoring her request, Hunter bent down and gave her a hug, then a peck on the cheek. When he stepped away from her, Mama stared up at him from the couch. Lips parted, she smiled up at him.

  “You smell so good! It’s nice to meet you, Hunter!” Mama said giddily.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too. I see where Nita got her beauty from.”

  Hunter, I see your con game continues… Her parents seemed to eat him up right away and Hunter proved over the next few minutes to be quite the conversationalist. He was laying it on thick.

  Much to Nita’s surprise, neither of her parents brought up his time in prison, which she’d told them about from the jump. She wasn’t going to sugarcoat her man’s past – it was what it was. But she’d also told them about his new venture, his life currently, and how well he treated her and the girls. That seemed to do it for them and once she’d explained how he’d remodeled her kitchen two weeks prior and had paid to get the roof fixed, even though he was far from rich, they were quite pleased that he appeared to now have his head on straight. All she’d asked was for them to please not bring up his parents. Daddy had already slipped up with his little joke.

  “Nita said you box,” Daddy said, picking up his mug and taking a sip of the peppermint tea. “You’re training right now, huh?”

  “Yes.” Hunter sat across from them in the loveseat. “I’m training right now and the fight is in April. I haven’t fought in a while, but the training is going good.”

  “That’s great. I like boxing. Maybe I’ll swing through and watch you.”

  “Yeah? Cool. I can get you free tickets. Just let me know.”

  The two engaged in a conversation about the greatest boxing matches of all time, who was better than who, so on and so forth. Nita hugged herself, feeling warm from the inside out. Moments later, the girls were urged to open their presents. Everyone watched Olive and Tisha tear into the presents, and rejoiced in their screams of joy. Hunter got Tisha and Olive iPads, spoiling the hell out of them. Daddy and Mama got them clothes, gift cards, and for some odd reason, Hello Kitty coloring books. Nita was certain that sometimes Mama forgot that Tisha wasn’t a little girl anymore… just like she did sometimes, too. Hunter received gift cards to auto part stores. That’s what he’d requested. Nita also gave him a gold chain with a crucifix.

  “Go on, open yours,” Hunter said as she held a beautiful watch her parents had given her. Nita shot him a glance, reached down and grabbed the silver wrapped present. It was full of tissue paper but at the very bottom, she found a framed photo of some sort. She removed the protective wrapping from it, and stared at a picture of a lovely home.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s the house I bought for you. It’s in Green Acres.”

  The room filled with gasps.

  “Hunter…” she said softly, her eyes watering.

  “Awww, baby!” Mama said, feeling her joy no doubt, and shock, too. Hunter went to hug her, then kissed her cheek.

  “But… oh my God… how? And why did you fix up this house if you were thinking of that?”

  “Because you’ll need to sell this and you want to get the most for it. If the roof is messed up and the kitchen old, you’d get bad offers, if any at all.”

  “How did you get this? Do this?” Happy tears streamed her face.

  “My grandparents know a lot of people. They had a friend in real estate who helped me and since I’ve been getting my credit repaired, I was able to get it. Interest rates are low now, too. It didn’t cost as much as you’d think, either. I have to do a little work on it, but it’s worth it. The mortgage is obviously a bit higher than you’re paying here, but I’m going to help you with the mortgage payment, so don’t worry. It’s manageable because the house needs some work. I put down a good-sized down payment, too. It’s got three bedrooms, an office, a three-car garage, a huge master bedroom with a walk-in closet, three and a half bathrooms, and a full basement. I’m going to finish the basement for you, knock down one of the walls to give you a nice sunroom, too… It’ll be perfect by the time I’m finished, but it’s move-in ready now.”

  She tossed her arms around his neck and held on tight. There was nothing her superman couldn’t do…

  Through a tragedy, she’d met him. Through a miracle, she’d opened her heart to experience the unknown. Through the grace of God, she’d fallen in love…

  “Merry Christmas, baby,” he whispered before kissing the tip of her nose. “I’m so glad you’re mine…”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  When Life Gives You Lemons

  Three weeks after the New Year, the China red ’67 Firebird was complete. It had a fresh coat of paint, reupholstered blood red leather interior, and a matching leather steering wheel with chrome spacers. Hunter studied the vehicle, pleased with his work. The lights, tires, and everything was brand new, rebuilt and made to his liking. He’d kept Noah’s storage shed since it was paid up for two years and found a way to put it to good use. After clearing most of the man’s items, he kept some, d
onated a few, and offered some pieces to his friends, grandparents, Nita and his brother. Grandma had always wanted one of those expensive restaurant-style waffle makers, so she was pleased as pudding when he’d presented it to her, in its original packaging. Hunter had plans to bring Nita to meet her soon, and while back in Saginaw for a couple of days, he’d dropped by his brother’s new place, as well as visited a few acquaintances, just to say hello.

  While there, a friend of his offered to try and sell some of the memorabilia from Noah’s storage shed on eBay – a few baseball cards, a signed photo of Sinatra, things like that. Hunter was using the shed mainly as a garage now to work on the car and future projects. He planned to put a boxing bag up, arm weights, and even a bench press. He moved his appropriate tool boxes in there, as well as two space heaters, and set it up like a small shop. It was working out well.

  Closing the hood of the beaut, he checked for missed messages on his phone, then dialed Justin, who’d called twice.

  “What’s up? I was just thinking about you.” He put the phone on speaker and began to pick up soiled paper towels he’d tossed on the cement floor and collect his tools strewn here and there.

  “I’m good, man. You made it back to Detroit okay, I see.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Haven’t spoken to you in a week, wanted to see how everything was. Thanks again for the Christmas gifts you brought up for the fam. That was nice of you, man.”

  “You’re welcome. I wanted you and the kids to have a good holiday. Sorry I couldn’t stay longer. I had spent Christmas with my girlfriend’s family and figured the day after I would see ya. It worked out in the end. I just needed to get back to Detroit for work.”

  “Yeah, the job and everything, proud of you, man. I’m coming to that fight, too. I’ll be down soon! That’s for sure.” Hunter could hear Lil Mosey’s ‘Stuck In A Dream’ playing in the background. His brother was into that sort of music, though it didn’t give him the same feeling as the classics. “Yo, uh, big bro… I have somethin’ to tell you.” Hunter leaned against the car and huffed, rubbing on his neck. He hated when Justin’s voice got like that – all watery and soft. It meant he was about to say some shit he didn’t want to hear.

  “What, Justin?”

  “Dad told me that, uh, he’s doing a news interview soon. They asked if they could interview us too and he wanted you to be aware of it, ’cause like NBC or somethin’ is going to call you.”

  “Who in the fuck wants to interview that man?” He chuckled dismally. “Do you know how many fuckin’ drunk or high people murder their significant other, Justin? It’s not newsworthy. It happens every day.”

  “That was… a strange response. Tyrant, look… I know you don’t want to talk to Dad, but I guess his story was unique for a few reasons. Hell, I don’t know, but he wanted to talk to you about what happened, tell you his side of the story and how sorry he is… that he—”

  “Motherfucker, you weren’t there. There is no, ‘his side of the story.’ I saw it with my own fuckin’ eyes! Ain’t shit to explain! You were faaaaar away, in a safe zone, while I was living in Hell. He wants to say sorry? Sayin’ sorry won’t bring my fuckin’ mother back, now will it?! And even though you’re not exactly cool with yours, at least she’s still breathing. I gotta go.” Hunter ended the call, collected the rest of his things, and turned off the light in the shed. After starting up his car, he lit a cigarette, his chest heaving. His brain played grotesque movies, scenes from his life, as he drove and drove. Still, he felt as if he wasn’t getting any damn where at all.

  Flashes of Noah dressed in that white suit in his coffin came to the forefront. Women sobbing and crying all over him… Mama on the floor with her brains blown out, a tear rolling out of her eye… The warmth of piss sliding down his little leg as Dad put the gun in his mouth… Olive being carried out the funeral, the girl almost passing out she was in so much emotional pain… Nita screaming and shaking in her kitchen when she had a nervous breakdown about all the stress on her shoulders, how she was a ‘fixer’ but couldn’t fix shit as of late… Justin’s busted up face and body after being kidnapped and robbed, looking pitiful, beaten black and blue…

  All of these cracked egg images with the runny, rotten yolks flooded his mind, making him grit his teeth and his skull throb. He sniffed and snarled as his veins filled with burning liquid nitrate. He caught his reflection in the rear-view mirror – nostrils flared like a demon’s, like he’d just inhaled cocaine. His green eyes looked almost black, his forehead creased like wrinkled elephant skin, and his lips twisted in a loopy sneer. Exhaling smoke, he leaned forward and turned on some tunes, trying to cool down. ‘Come Together,’ by The Beatles blasted from the speaker.

  Cracking the window, he accelerated when he hit the highway. He got it up to 90, aiming for 100 as he flew like an arrow. The music was so loud, it sounded like the damn group was right there reincarnated, performing from the backseat. His brain was rapid firing, sending more horror, more sorrow…

  Bright red blood splattered across white, fractured walls… swollen lips from kissing the night away… sweaty limbs twisted in black sheets, ‘Baby, please don’t stop…’… hungry bites across a silky, brown collar bone… double gripping smooth, feminine flesh, drawing it close to receive maximum thrusts… begging her to never tell him she loved him – he was cursed…

  Hearse…

  Dirt shoveled over a silver casket…

  Gunfire cracking the silence as he emptied a clip into an enemy…

  He’d felt nothing when he’d shot that man, nor when he’d shot another. It had been just another day in Hell. The smell of fresh new leather being pulled across a seat frame… his twelve-year-old self sitting in a bath tub picking fragments of broken glass out of the bottom of his foot after running barefoot in an alley from a crazy fucker on drugs who’d mistook him for someone else… Soon thereafter, getting his dick sucked for the first time in juvie by a girl named Jamie, the counselor’s daughter at the group home for boys… He’d nutted in her mouth, and she’d been pissed…

  Dad’s letters that the man had mailed to Grandma every week when he was a teenager… He’d read them and tossed them in the trash, then he’d stopped reading them altogether… The things teachers, ex-girlfriends, and family members would say…

  ‘He was such a sweet little boy. He’s grown into a monster’ … ‘He can’t be controlled’ … ‘Did his mother take drugs when she was pregnant with him?’ … ‘Why is he so mean?’… ‘He’s violent because of his father’s blood’…‘They say he killed some people, but never got caught’ … ‘He’s in a gang’ … ‘He hangs with a bad crowd’ … ‘He needs Jesus’ … ‘He’s a Scorpio I think, enough said’ … ‘I love you, Tyrant, but I can’t wait for you to get out of prison, I want to live my life’ … ‘It is your kid, Hunter! … Sorry, who told you? Yeah… DNA showed I was wrong, you’re not the dad, but we were broken up then, so…’ … Gavels in a courtroom… ‘You are hereby sentenced… you are here by sentenced… you are here by sentenced…’ … ‘What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Wolfe?’

  …Not a damn thing.

  He burst out laughing as the pages of his life flipped in his head like a book – going crazy, his brain practically exploding. He kept driving and driving until he found himself in Saginaw, parked in front of his grandparents’ home under a blanket of stars. Since he’d been out of prison, the visits to his grandparents were rather polite; no one said anything about all the pain he’d left at their feet anymore and he didn’t dare bring up his mother, father, none of that shit. It was all about moving forward, forgetting the past like it didn’t even exist. But right then, he was in shambles. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. The past demanded to be heard. He picked up his phone from the holder and dialed Nita.

  “Hey, honey.” She yawned. “I just fell asleep. You coming over?”

  “Nah, not tonight, baby. I’m in Saginaw.”

  “Oh… everything okay?”


  “Yeah, I’ll be back home in the morning. Gotta visit my grandparents and take care of a few things. Just, uh, wanted to check in with you… see how you were doing and let you know what was up.” He hooked his arm behind his head.

  “All right then, well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Did you want me to swing by tomorrow night or you want to come over here? Sometimes we can switch it up. I just—”

  “No, it’s cool. Besides, you need to start packing and I can help you. I can get you some boxes from the casino, too. They’ve got deliveries all the time for food and shit and there’s like hundreds of cardboard boxes that they recycle. I can take as many as you need.”

  “Oh, that would be really helpful! I looked into the schools and you’re right. The public schools in the area are great so that would eliminate the bill for private school for Tisha and Olive. It’ll save me thousands of dollars.”

  “I told you. I wouldn’t put you in a position that would stress you out financially, you know, even if I wasn’t helping to pay… or something happened where I couldn’t.”

  “What? Are you planning on disappearing on me or something?” She laughed.

  “Nope. Not at all… but you know, things happen sometimes.”

  “Yeah… yeah… well, be safe… I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  “Call me tomorrow morning, okay?”

  “I will. Good night. Sleep good, JJ.” She blew him a kiss over the phone and he disconnected.

  He sat in the car, playing the radio until ‘Faded Pictures’ by Case started to play on the oldies station. He smiled sadly and bobbed his head to the song. A girl he’d really liked when he’d been in school, Celeste, had also loved that song. They’d ended up fucking to it. He’d been so young then, silly, crazy… He let the song finish playing, turned off the car, and headed up his grandparents’ steps, the grayish blue pretty house with the perfect shingles the same as ever. He took out his key, then changed his mind and rang the bell instead.