by Renta
I stared at him wondering where he was going with his spiel. He chuckled when he read my facial expression. “That’s us, bruh—we took life and saved a few, but life was so cold to us that we lost our faith. God came through every time though—every time our enemies caught us with our pants down. And we just so happened to beat them to the draw?” He made a gun with his fingers and mock pulled the trigger. “Every time we was locked deep in the trap with enough work and automatics that life woulda been the lowest plea them crakas came with?” He raised his arms in the air as if he was praising the sky. “That was God, my dude. Your thoughts—your instincts?” He smiled. “You’ve seen God too, dawg, you see him every time you look in a mirror.”
I put my hands up, a thoughtful look crossed my face. If I wasn’t dead, why was I there—with him in that—that place?
It must have been written all over my face because Shy read my thoughts. “This place—this is your heart. It’s something deep within you, this place was created for those times you just wanna say fuck it and tap out—this place is your pride.” Shy tapped my chest with the back of his hand and started walking; I followed. “Assata, have you not noticed that the only time you find Lovey is like this—” He waved his hand around the meadow. “—it’s at a time when you’ve done some stupid shit and the results left you in a position where you were fucked up or at the times you just wanna give up?” he said as he abruptly stopped walking.
The move was so sudden that I ran right into him. “Damn, fam, say something next time!” I fumed. “Look, homie, I ain’t DOA, that means you—Lovey, y’all ain’t either, but—" my voice trailed off as confusion hugged my spirit.
My dawg turned to face me, I studied him—mentally willing him to understand my confliction—willing him to not give substance to a reality I already knew was true.
He smiled at me with a wounded smirk. “Dawg, the worst thing a man can do is become a victim to his own lies—you know its ova for me.” He shrugged his shoulders as if he could care less that he’d died before he was able to live.
Impulsively my eyes found Lovey, hope toyed with my rationality as I turned my eyes back to Shy. He dropped his head in respect for my hope, but confirmed the rationality, Lovey wasn’t waking up again. That shit crushed a gangsta. The taste for revenge surged through my veins as I watched her pull weeds from a group of snap-dragon flowers. They took one of the only people in life that ever loved me no matter what I did. Somebody woke up the sleeping beast and the only remedy for its thirst was blood.
The sweet sounds of Lovey’s humming carried on the wind, “After the Rain,” by Betty Wright.
I smiled as my thoughts transported me back to times that could never return. Moose, my moms, used to have that song turned up to the highest notch as she cleaned the house. The woman would use so much Pinesol you’d be able to smell it before you entered the house. A clicking sound snapped me back to the present time. I’d know the sound of a tool being cocked no matter what was going on around me. Me and Shy had a showdown with our eyes, there was no need to look down at his hand, the sound of him cocking the black .40 was enough confirmation.
His pupils seemed to fade to pitch black. “Dawg, you out there in them streets letting rookie boys touch you. I know losing Lovey—you and Jazz—” He tapped his heart with the burna. “—I know that shit heavy, but you know the law of the jungle just like every otha animal that’s thuggin’ out here. There’s no innocent people during war—" He aimed the tool steady as he sighted me with the infrared. “A lion won’t pass up a baby buffalo simply because it’s a baby. Naw—he’s gonna devour it because he understands it’s just the way God made it for men like us, we gotta kill for our food. If you gonna keep letting mu’fuckas get the ups on you, I may as well put one in ya melon right now!” Shy spat. “At least you’ll die by the hands of a worthy opponent!”
I stretched my arms out wide like I had wings. “What you waiting for, bruh, you tuna or something now?” I faced off with the tool. “You know I don’t give a fuck about dying—what you waiting fa, huh?” That gangsta shit tumbled from my heart.
Shy’s face took on the reflection of the killa I’d known him to be all our lives. The red dot danced over my face, he was on the edge of the cliff now. I knew how he killed cause we’ve been in the mud together since free lunch.
“You’d be doing me a favor, sucka!” I taunted him.
Shy’s finger molested the trigger for a second before his body relaxed and he lowered the gun with a pained expression on his face. “When though, Bleed—when will you give a fuck?” His eyes locked with mine.
We faced off for a second or two, then my body deflated. My arms dropped to my side as his question ricocheted from my brain to my heart. Did I care if I lived or died? I really didn’t know, and Shy read the indecision in my posture.
He shook his head in pity. “You’re not getting any younger, dawg—” he paused and looked over at Lovey. “—you have too many people that depends on you, for you not to give a fuck,” he murmured before he dropped a bomb on me that was so powerful it blew my heart—my mind—then my soul to so many pieces that the only pieces of myself I could salvage were the ones that caused me to react the way I did. “You not giving a fuck is what got Lovey killed, my nigga.”
Rage—hurt and craziness shot through me like lava running down the slopes of a volcano, and I lunged at him with blood on my mind.
****
~Freedom~
~Three Days Later~
Assata still hadn’t called me, so I feared the worst. It had been three days since I’d found my way out of those dreadful woods behind Assata’s house. I’d made my way to the front of the house and as I suspected, it was destroyed. The picture windows looked like big, empty eye sockets. I could look right through to the living room. Where the once beautiful white walls were coated with gas residue and the marble floor was littered with glass. Flashbacks of the night before played inside my mind like a horror flick.
I stood there for almost ten minutes stuck in place—holding myself as the morning chill caressed my skin. Who were those people? Where was Assata? My mind shot off question after question until I damn near drove myself crazy. I contemplated my next move, I knew I couldn’t just stand there naked as a newborn, but I feared stepping into that house. There was a million what ifs bouncing around in my head, but not enough certainties. I stood there until resolve ate away at my fear. I couldn’t not go in, my clothes and keys were in Assata’s room. The sound of approaching tires stole my attention, as a white Benz SUV rolled to a stop, and as the engine idled, the driver stared at me in mild shock.
That’s how I met Goose. Naked—mam—mam—”
A voice brought me to the here and now. I stood at the door of my job juggling a steaming cup of Java in one hand, and a box of donuts in the other. I’d had enough wallowing, in self-pity and decided to go into work, bills weren’t gonna pay themselves. Standing in front of me holding the door open was a man I assumed was there to make a withdrawal.
“Are you okay, mam? I’ve been trying to pass you for almost two minutes. Whatever you’re on, I need some of it—you were spaced and—” I left him talking to himself at the door.
I was so embarrassed that my mind started playing tricks on me. I felt like all eyes were on me. Alarmed, I glanced back to see if the strange man was still standing at the door, but he was long gone. I turned my attention back to the tellers and at that moment my suspicious magnified.
‘Could they tell what I’d been through those past few days? Did the scene at the door warrant this much attention?’ I thought.
It was evident that when my colleagues realized I was alarmed they began trying to direct their attention everywhere else but on me. My heartbeat escalated, but I held it together as best as I could. It was clear there was something amiss, and I was willing to bet my life on it that I was that something. On my way to my office, I attempted to make eye contact with my close friend, Tonya, but like everyone else, she tr
ied to avoid my questioning eyes.
‘Well, fuck her, too!’ I thought as I made it to the back of the bank.
As soon as I made it to my office door, I knew that trouble awaited me on the other side. The door was cracked open and I could hear voices speaking in hushed tones. This may not have been a problem if it wasn’t for the fact that I kept my door locked and the only other person allowed in were the higher-ups.
“Are you gonna go in or keep eavesdropping?” A deep voice startled me from behind.
I jumped in surprise and spilled some of the hot coffee on my left hand. “Dammit—” I spat. “—you shouldn’t be sneaking up on people like that!” I turned to face him.
He was a short man with sandy blonde hair combed back into a nice wave. He looked fresh and well-groomed as we studied each other. His presence was demanding, but his eyes were the contradiction. They were a gentle green that gave him a boyish quality. They seemed to roll over me in a very analytical assessment.
“And you shouldn’t be sneaking around interfering with a federal investigation,” he replied with a contemptuous smile.
I stared at him confused, with an arched brow I wondered what he meant federal investigation?
He read my expression correctly, flipping out his credentials he introduced himself. “Federal Agent Harrison,” he announced. “You must be Freedom McDade—we’ve been waiting on you.” He gestured to the door, he stepped around me and pushed it open the rest of the way. “Ladies first,” he proposed as he stepped to the side so I could enter.
Reluctantly, I stepped through the door, I had a dreadful thought that would be my last time doing so, yet, I stepped through with my head held high. “Donuts, anyone?”
****
Swoosh!
Was the sound of me flying right through him. It felt like I’d dived inside of a cool body of water before I landed face first in a rosebush. Anger surged through me as I disentangled myself from the sharp branches. Once back on my feet, I inspected my wounds, outside of a few stinging welts and scratches, I was peace. I was more confused and humiliated to worry ‘bout the physical, curiosity that got the best of me though.
“How the fuck you do that?” I demanded.
Shy laughed. “Bruh, I’m a figment of your imagination, yet, I’m real, too.” He continued to laugh as if he knew a joke I didn’t.
I stared at him in frustration, I didn’t understand his explanation and he knew it, so he elaborated, “It’s a paradox, bro, it’s like that old movie Ghost with Whoopi Goldberg. Remember that shit?”
I pondered for a second, and as I recalled the movie, the rest of the pieces fell into place. In that movie, Patrick Swayze was killed but his love for his gal prevented him from crossing over. He wanted to touch her—kiss her—just make her understand how much he loved her. He could walk through walls and become solid with the right amount of will.
Shy recognized I’d figured it out and smiled sadly. “You can only touch us when it’s truly in your heart, and harming me ain’t in yours, Bleed.”
That truth being spoken, I blew out a long breath of hot air. He was right, I loved that boy like a brotha. It could neva manifest in my heart to hurt him. The sound of the tiger cubs playing nearby stole my attention. The biggest one chased its sibling into a bush.
“So—you and Jazz finally made it happen, huh?” Shy caught me off guard.
Without looking his way, I started walking, he followed silently, yet, his aura was powerful as he anticipated my answer. “She left me, my nigga, I—I was in the hospital and she left—” I looked up at a cloud that had rolled in front of the sun. “—just up and disappeared on me. I wasn’t ‘pose to fall for her, Bleed, but—” my voice trailed off as the wolves bolted from the bush, and to my surprise, the smaller one was the aggressor as it nipped at the bigger one’s hind legs.
Shy nodded as if he predicted to exchange of power, then he asked, “Do you love her, Satta?”
“Bruh didn’t you just hear what I just told you—she left me!” I exploded.
He was picking at a scab that was best left to become a scar. “Fuck love gotta do with anything; treason murders the heart, homie.”
Shy stopped walking, I turned to see if he’d pulled his strap again, if so—he’d have to do me this time. To my surprise, he did have it out, but not aimed at me, the silly mu’fucka was taking aim at the cubs.
“I didn’t ask you if she left you, family, I asked do you love, my sister.” The wolves wouldn’t be still so he couldn’t get ahead on them.
I wondered his intentions but answered his question, “Yea—you know I love her. What’s your point?” Shy squinted one eye as he concentrated his aim.
“She loves you, too, Bleed. If you don’t follow your heart, you’ll both regret it. That’s my sister, Rusta, but she’s your queen. I’ve always known that, even before you did.” He smiled to himself. “You have a lot to do before the O.G. calls you home, Bleed, but first you gotta clean your garden. It’s snakes in your camp, my dude, and all ‘em are poisonous!” Shy pulled the trigger, Boc! Boc!”
The shots rang off in succession. I watched the two tiger cubs explode in a red mess, this boy could never change.
****
~Freedom~
“I can’t believe this shit. So, you think I had something to do with the bank robbery?” I asked in shock.
My boss, Mr. Jefferson sat behind my desk as Agent Harrison stood beside him. There was another agent typing away at my computer, I assumed he was downloading all my data usage onto the USB device he had hooked up to my flash drive.
“Well, Mrs. McDade, it’s kinda ironic that not only did those men know the route for the truck, but also the layout of the bank. I find it kinda hard to believe that it’s a coincidence that those men knew about the exit that’s next door to your office, and it’s surely not coincidental that they knew it led to the next street over. Those men had a lot of intel,” Mr. Jefferson spoke with a finality that left no room for misunderstanding. He believed I was the culprit.
As I stared at him with a shocked look on my face, he busied himself with smoothing the wrinkles out of his freshly pressed slacks. Anger—astonishment, but most of all fear resonated within every molecule of my being. These people were attempting to make me the escape-goat for a federal crime. I became so enraged my hands began to shake.
“How dare you!” I spat. “Is it because I’m the only black woman here, huh?” My eyes turned to slits when I released my next revelation into the atmosphere. “Or is it because I turned down your every advance since I’ve been employed here? You prick!”
The silence that ensued was priceless. Even the agent at the computer turned to glance at my boss.
“Um-hmm,” Agent Harrison cleared his throat. “Mrs. McDade this is a federal investigation, not a prejudice accusation based off your race or gender.” He turned to the computer guy. “Jason, would you please?”
The man at the computer who I now know as Jason unplugged the USB stick before quickly typing in a sequence of information. He smiled and turned my computer to face me. At first, I was confused, but as I watched the screen fade from a fuzzy grey to crystal-clear footage, I had to tame my surprise. I watched in mild fascination as the robbery played out from the beginning. I watched as the president masked gunmen secured the place, their moves seemed synchronized. As soon as the man in the Ronald Reagan mask brought me from the back, I already knew what was about to happen as I recalled how roughly he handled me.
Obviously, so did Agent Harrison. “Slow it down for me right here, will ya, Jason?” he asked as he walked over to the screen now playing in slow motion.
The look in Assata’s eyes—the aggression in his posture couldn’t be misconstrued. He was upset at the man unprovoked treatment, and his reaction proved that.
“See, look close, the perp with the Obama mask sees you being brought from the back. He’s not frustrated until the Ronald Reagan mask mishandles you. Now tell me, Mrs. McDade—”
&nbs
p; “Mrs.—” I frowned at him. “I’m not married,” I said as I wrapped my arms around myself.
It had suddenly become cold in that room, I looked like a nervous wreck sitting there bouncing my legs as if I had to pee.
Agent Harrison smiled thinly. “Ms. McDade,” he corrected and pointed to the screen. “I’m trying to figure out why a bank robber would give two shits about a total stranger? But you know what—” he paused for effect and turned from the screen.
Harrison slowly stalked over to me as if he was a famished lion going in for the kill. Our eyes bore into each other’s as he walked around my chair and stood behind me, placing both hands on my shoulders.
He whispered, “Look at the screen real good, Ms. McDade.” He put emphasis on the Ms. Part. “As you’re sitting there, your face doesn’t register fear—your face doesn’t even register the correct reaction that a senior manager should have during a bank heist that could possibly cost her, her life.” He gently massaged my shoulders, but instead of enjoyment, I felt repulsed! “You know what your face registers as you and this total stranger make eye contact—” Harrison leaned down and put his lips inches away from my ear. “Surprise, Ms. McDade, that’s what your facial expression shows me. You’re surprised because you recognized the perp.”
At that moment I bolted from my seat so fast the Starbucks cup toppled over, spilling luke-warm coffee onto my paperwork.
“I did not recognize that man! How—how could I recognize a man wearing a fucking mask!” I screamed. I could feel my skin flush as so many emotions blossomed inside of me. “As a matter of fact, if I’m not under arrest, I’m leaving, and if I am, I will need to notify my lawyer.” The tension was so thick that the room seemed to be losing oxygen. I made eye contact with each man.
