Street Soldier 2

by Silhouettes

  “Dead rabbits,” I said as we both sighed from relief. “I’m gon’ take the trash can to the dumpster. I’ll be right back.”

  I rolled the trash can down the alley, then dumped it into the big dumpster. It still had a horrible-ass smell, and I couldn’t believe that the trash can had permeated the air as it had. I looked for some strong cleaners when I got back to the house, but the only things I found were some bleach and Pine-Sol. For now, it had to do. I put on some rubber gloves, and Poetry went outside with me. She watched as I scrubbed the trash can, still frowning from the smell. At this point, she was covering her mouth.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, coughing. “But it still stinks out here. Hurry up, Prince, so we can go inside.”

  I hurried to wash the can and couldn’t agree with Poetry more. The smell was still in the air, and as we made our way toward the house, something triggered. I turned and looked at the garage. “Go inside,” I said to Poetry. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Poetry followed the direction of my eyes, looking at the garage too. “Ma ... maybe you should call the police, Prince. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

  Neither did I. My stomach was turned in knots and the way my heart was racing, I didn’t like what I was feeling. I slowly walked to the garage, and when I lifted the door, I almost fell backward from the horrible stench that was coming from inside. Mama kept my grandfather’s old beat-up Chevy inside that she could never get to work. Rust was all over it, and the garage was cluttered with items my mother had kept of her parents when they died. I lifted my shirt to cover my nose that was burning. I assumed Poetry had already run inside, and when I noticed part of a plastic bag sticking out of the trunk, I backed away. I blinked the water from my eyes, so afraid to open the trunk to see what was inside. The smell was already a giveaway, but I staggered backward as my gaze at the trunk kept me in a trance. Poetry snapped me out of it when she grabbed my arm.

  “Prince, please call the police. Let’s go inside, baby, okay?”

  I backed up, still staring at the trunk. I had a strong feeling about what was inside, and my whole body was weakening by the minute. I staggered inside of the house and dropped back on the couch. Poetry was saying something to me, but I was completely zoned out. I reached for my cell phone in my pocket and called Nate. “Would you do me a favor?” I said softly.

  “Sure, man, what’s up?”

  “Would you make your way to my mama’s house as quickly as you can?”

  “Uh, sure. Is everything all right?”

  “No. Don’t think so.”

  “Let me close up the store. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  I hung up and sat like a mannequin, as I was so afraid to face my biggest fear. Mama was dead, killed by the hands of a man who had destroyed our lives and claimed to love her. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, was it? A slow tear rolled down my face, and I regretted that I hadn’t dealt with this situation between Mama and Raylo a long time ago. As her son, I could have done something. I should have been man enough to put some fear in Raylo, so he would stop putting his hands on Mama. I felt as if I had let her down. He viewed me as a punk who would never do anything, and those were the exact words he’d said to me after we got back from Ernie’s house that day. Now, more than ever, I was determined to show him what was really up with me. And this time, the pleasure would be all mine.

  As I sat zoned out and making plans in my head, I could no longer make out anything Poetry was saying to me. Her voice was so loud, and I wasn’t trying to hear it. I leaned forward and dropped my face in my hands. “Please!” I screamed. “Shut the fuck up! Damn!” Silence fell over the room.

  When Nate showed up, I reached out to give him the keys to the trunk.“Do me a huge favor and check to see what’s up with that plastic bag in the trunk of that car in the garage. I can’t do it, Nate, and I’m afraid it may be ...”

  Nate snatched the keys from me. “I understand. I’ll be right back.”

  I didn’t want to see Mama dead and stuffed into a plastic bag, but the visual in my head was already there. It took awhile for Nate to return, and when he came back inside, I lifted my head to look at him come through the door. Our eyes connected and his stare, as well as blank expression, told me everything I needed to know. He used his shirt to wipe the sheen of sweat from his forehead then two words left his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

  I closed my eyes, and as I leaned forward again I could barely catch my breath. Tears streamed down my face and my body shook from my staggering cries. A puddle of thick snot and tears formed on the floor down below, as I couldn’t even raise my head to look at Poetry, whose cries I could hear as well. Nate rubbed my shoulders, then said he was calling the police. I hated for him to do that, but didn’t really have a choice. Within the hour, the police swarmed in, asking a million and one questions. The coroners came, and news reporters were all outside of Mama’s house. About ten police officers were inside, three of whom were trying to talk to me. I sat stone faced, saying not one word and staring at the white wall in front of me.

  “He’s in shock right now,” Nate said. “But his mother has been missing for almost four months.”

  “Why didn’t anyone report it?”

  Nate really couldn’t explain, and I wasn’t willing to. “He ... he just thought she’d come back, and didn’t know if she was out of town with relatives.”

  “Who else lives here? Why didn’t anyone notice the smell? Do you know of anyone who would have wanted her dead?”

  Poetry inched forward, but I grabbed her wrist and gave her a cold stare. I’d told her a lot of things, but I did not want her talking to the police about what had gone down. She sat back, shaking her head.

  “Do you have something to say?” one of the officers asked her.

  “No, nothing at all. This is just ... just awful,” she said, starting to cry again.

  The officer looked at me. “Jamal, if you don’t talk, we can’t help you. I know you’re upset right now, but if you can think of anything that will help us find the person who murdered your mother we would appreciate it. I don’t know why you’re not talking to us but you, yourself, don’t want to be our suspect. If you know something, you need to come clean and do it soon.”

  I ignored the officer, and cocked my neck from side to side.

  “He’ll be willin’ to talk later,” Nate said. “Just give him time.”

  The officer put his foot on the table and tapped his notepad. “I got a dead woman in a trash bag and nobody knows nothing? Give me a break, people. All we’re here to do is help. Now, if you don’t mind, we’re going to finish our investigation, look around, and see what we can find. Don’t any of you go nowhere until we’re finished.”

  He and the other officers walked away, searching through the house as well as outside to see what they could find. Nate sat next to me on the couch.

  “You got to be smart about this, Prince. Go ahead and tell them what you suspect about Raylo. That way, it will take the heat off you. You know they’re goin’ to come after you as a prime suspect, especially if they don’t find any evidence. Listen to what I’m tellin’ you, man, and get that revenge shit out of yo’ head right now because it’s not gon’ work this time.”

  Like hell, was all I could say to myself. Raylo was a dead fool and didn’t even know. And if I found G, he was a goner too. Somebody had to pay for this, and how in the hell did he think he could get away with killing Mama? He must have mistaken me for being a punk-ass fool, but I had something major planned for that ass. I got hyped just sitting there and thinking about it.

  As the police continued to tear up the house looking for evidence, I heard a bunch of yelling going on outside. It moved me not one bit, because I knew whose voice it was. It was Raylo. He rushed inside with one of his friends holding him back. Tears poured from his eyes and beads of sweat laced his forehead.

  “What in the hell happened to my Shante?” he said to one of the officers who tried to ca
lm him down. The officer asked for his name.

  “My name don’t matter,” he yelled. “Where in the hell is my baby? Who did this to her, damn it, who?”

  My eyes focused on him, with daggers tearing him apart. He finally turned to see me sitting on the couch, and had the audacity to come over by me.

  “Prince,” he said with his face all frowned up and looking like a fake-ass mad bulldog. He was bent over, holding his back as if it was hurting. “Who the fuck did this? Why they do this to her, man? You know this shit ain’t right!”

  I sat there eyeing him, showing no emotions whatsoever. Poetry was just as still as I was, not knowing what I was going to do.

  Nate jumped up and grabbed Raylo’s hand. “I know this is hard on you both, but let’s calm down and see if we can figure this out later. The police are here, and for now, let’s allow them to do their job.”

  Raylo’s whole demeanor changed, as he was now standing up straight. “Nigga, who the fuck are you? Do I know you?”

  “I’m a friend of Prince’s. Work at the liquor store for him. My name is Nate.”

  “Aw,” Raylo said, squeezing his forehead. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his pug nose. I know he saw me staring at him, and as my brows arched inward, he blinked to look away. He tapped one of the police officer’s shoulders and started talking to him, as if he was so concerned.

  “What y’all gon’ do about this? I want Shante’s killer found and y’all need to get on it!”

  His performance was so damn good, but I could see right through it. Just like he acted at Ernie’s house, he was acting the same way. The officer started asking Raylo questions, and he gave more details about Mama’s disappearance than I had.

  “She just up and left one day. We had an argument the day before, and she told me she was gettin’ the hell out of here. Shante was known for runnin’ off like that for long periods of time, but none of us suspected that she was here all along. Dead.”

  He knew she was here all along, and in G’s own words, he also said she’s at home where she had been all along. G had also referred to Raylo as Ray. At the time I didn’t trip, but only close friends of his called him Ray.

  Raylo got choked up again. I wanted to just get up and beat his fake ass! Poetry saw the devious look in my eyes and she reached for my hand to hold it.

  “I know you told me to shut the fuck up, but can I get you anything to drink? It’s been a long day, Prince, and I’m so sorry about all of this. I’m right here with you, though, so don’t worry, baby. We’ll get through this together, okay?”

  No response. She was saying that shit now, but I wondered if she would be singing the same tune after all of this was done and over with. Yeah, I couldn’t wait, and as I sucked my teeth, my gaze stayed right on Raylo. I wanted him to see that killer look in my eyes. He needed to see how hungry I was for him. I wanted him to fidget as he was doing, and his shifty eyes were trying to ignore me. He couldn’t, as I wouldn’t let him. And when one of the police officers came into the house with what he called “evidence” in a bag, Raylo really showed out.

  “You think you got somethin’?” he said in a panic to the officer.

  Raylo looked guilty as ever, but I wasn’t sure if the police noticed it as much as I had. Nate poked me in my side, as he noticed the bullshit too.

  “We’re not sure,” the officer said. “But we’re done here.” He walked over to me and reached out his hand for me to shake it. “Sorry for your loss. We’ll be in touch.”

  I looked at his hand, refusing to shake it. Nate shoved my side again, then reached out for the officer’s hand. “Thank you, sir. We appreciate your efforts.”

  “I hope so,” the officer said, then left out with the others.

  Raylo and his friend watched the officers leave, then he came over to me. “We need to get with the funeral home and make sure Shante is appropriately laid to rest. I don’t recall her ever talkin’ about havin’ a life insurance policy or anything like that, but you may know somethin’ better than I do. If push comes to shove, I’ll take care of everything. You don’t have to worry about nothin’, ya hear me?”

  I stood up, stepped over the table to avoid him, and walked away. I heard Nate say, “Give him time.” After that, I went into my bedroom and closed the door. I could still smell Mama’s smoky scent all over, and trying to cope with the fact that she was gone, I couldn’t. I placed my hand on my chest, sobbing like I had never done in my entire life, while lying on my bed. The loss of Mama, and the way she went out, indeed, was painful.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Missing Mama

  All I had arranged for Mama was a viewing of her casket then she would be laid to rest at the cemetery. It’s what she wanted, and the life insurance policy she had paid for her funeral, and left me with $20,000. Her house now belonged to me, but eventually, I was going to sell it. There were good memories there, but I really felt as if the bad outweighed the good. All I thought about was growing up in that room. Listening to Mama get her ass beat, and crying and arguing with the numerous men in her life. Her situation with Raylo took the cake though. I never understood how a woman could take so much heat from a man, but still love him. Her love for him eventually cost her her life, and whatever happened that night between her and Raylo, no one would ever know.

  Still, I had to hang on to the good times with Mama: the times she used to read me bedtime stories and take me to church, sit on my bed with me and talk until the sun came up, even drink and smoke weed with me. Yes, we did have our fun. When Prince Jr. was born, Mama was like a new woman. She was excited about seeing him, and more so about seeing me. Our relationship had gotten back on track but, now, another person in my life had been snatched away from me. Yes, I knew there was a God. But, I didn’t always understand how He went about doing things. I guess I prayed for Him to reveal to me where Mama was, and just like in my dream, it was revealed the next day that she was dead. I was thankful for Him allowing her to finally rest in peace, and as I sat in a pew in the funeral home, looking at her pearly white casket, I wasn’t satisfied with the hand that life had dealt me. At times, it had been too much to bear, but I knew that a Street Soldier like me had to keep it moving.

  As I sat in my black pants, shirt, and tie from Express Men, I watched as more people came in to pay Mama their respects. I opted to keep her casket closed, only because there was nothing but ashes inside. Her body was badly decomposed, so she was cremated. A beautiful picture of her sat on top of the casket. The people who came by were from the neighborhood, and some from the nightclubs she’d frequent when she went out. Mama had no siblings and the only family we pretty much had was each other. Some of my friends from high school stopped by, and so did some of my customers from the liquor store and laundromat. Jenay and Francine both came by, which kind of surprised me. I kept my conversation short, but shook a lot of hands, thanking many for coming. When I looked up and saw Poetry and her grandmother coming my way, I let out a tiny smile. I stood up, offering her grandmother a seat, since the room was pretty full.

  “No, you go ahead and sit down,” she whispered while holding on to a cane.

  “No, I insist. Besides, I need to go to the bathroom.”

  She kissed my cheek, then eased herself into the seat. Poetry squeezed my hand together with hers, and she was really a sight for sore eyes to see. She wore a pink chiffon sheer dress that had spaghetti straps. The dress was cut right above her knees and her perfume was just as sweet as her. A pink and white flower was in her hair and the same flower was on her finger, as she wore it as a ring. The open-toed strappy heels she wore had her almost as tall as me.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, walking with me to the restroom, with her head leaning against my shoulder.

  “I’m okay,” I said. “Thanks for bein’ here. That was sweet of you to bring your grandmother.”

  “Hey, we’re like two peas in a pod. Wherever I go, she goes.”

  “She wasn’t in the be
droom with us the other night. That was you making all of those noises.”

  Poetry blushed and pushed my shoulder. “Shhh, don’t tell nobody. And there are certain places I prefer to be alone. With you is one of them and I refuse to share.”

  I smiled. Hadn’t done so all day, but I knew Poetry could take me there. I loosened my hand from hers and made my way into the bathroom. I didn’t really have to go, I just needed a minute to gather myself, as well as my thoughts. I looked in the mirror, seeing so much stress on my face. Small bags were underneath my eyes and in no way did I look my age. I’d be twenty-one in a few more weeks, and it was a shame that all of this had to happen right before my birthday.

  Trying to cool off, I splashed cold water on my face, then dabbed it with a paper towel. I left the bathroom and walked back to the room where Mama was. As soon as I stepped inside, I spotted Raylo and about ten of his friends. Some were sitting down, others were standing close by Mama’s casket. One of them was saying something, and Raylo took it upon himself to laugh. He barely looked my way, and as I kept staring at him, Poetry turned my face to hers.

  “Now ain’t the time,” she said to me. “Let it go, Prince, and stop staring at him. Too many people are watching. I don’t want you and him to start tripping at a time like this. This day is all about your mother. Make her proud, okay?”

  I chilled, for now, but it wouldn’t be for too long. Poetry, her grandmother, and I rode together in a limo to the cemetery, and as we followed Mama’s hearse, my emotions got the best of me. I tried to hold them in all day, but couldn’t contain myself no more. I leaned over in the seat, holding my stomach from the ill feeling I felt inside. Poetry’s grandmother rubbed my leg, then pulled me up to hold me in her arms.

  “Aww, baby, it’s gon’ be okay. We all have to get out of here someday, and your mother is in a much, much better place. She’s saying hallelujah right now and she’s so happy that she’s now in God’s care. Nobody’s care is better than His, so wipe those tears and be thankful that your mother is free as she would ever want to be.”