“Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it. Elle loves you, and that crazy ass girl would do almost anything to trap you.”
“Man, whatever,” I yanked my arm away from him.
“Samson, I’m serious,” Sheen gave me a look of pity and then it turned into disgust. “That girl has an ulterior motive; she’s got all the girls calling her Mrs. Samson when you’re not around. Man, she wants you too bad; it’s something up with that.”
When I made it back to the house, Mom and one of the elders were loading my truck up. I walked past the open truck and Elle wasn’t in there. I walked through the front door and saw her wrapped up in a small ball on the couch. Her hair was wet and pulled back into a ponytail. I lifted her gently, trying my best not to jostle her. Her piercing jet black eyes looked up at me; I turned away quickly.
“Could you hand me that pillow?” I asked one of the women standing in the hallway. She picked up the soft fluffy pillow on top of Elle’s suitcase. Elle reached for it, and the woman handed it to her with a small smile.
I walked out the house and went over to my truck. My truck was the biggest vehicle any of us had. I knew Elle needed to lie down in the back seat. She clung to that pillow like her life depended on it. I got that feather pillow last year during one of these incidents. She says it’s her favorite, and she always slept with it. I laid Elle down; gently placing the soft blanket I kept in the truck for her around her. I placed the pillow under her head and buckled her up. I bent down and kissed her softly on her forehead. I tried my best not to make eye contact with her. She gripped my shirt, and I yanked her hand away and slammed the door. I started walking back towards the forest; I stopped hearing her screaming when I reached the edge of the ocean.
It’s been three months and I haven’t seen Elle once. It’s not from the lack of her begging me. She has been pleading for me to come see her, but I always said no. She eventually stopped asking me. Our conversations sounded so robotic now.
“What did you do today?” I’d ask.
“My cousins and I walked to town. And you?”
“Oh, that sounds good.”
“Yeah.”
And then we’d makeup some lame excuse and hang up.
One extra nice Saturday at the fish market, my mom surprised us with homemade fry bread and Wojapi. Fried bread is exactly how it sounds: its bread that’s fried. Wojapi is an Indian traditional berry soup. You can eat it hot or cold, but most of us preferred it cold. We shut the show down for an hour for lunch. I had an old school Winnebago, similar to the one Walt and Jesse used in Breaking Bad. We all climbed inside after Mom, and she sat at the end of the counter at the edge of the breakfast nook. The whole RV fell quiet and all eyes were on me now. There was pure silence for a couple of heartbeats, and then sounds from the TV surrounded the RV. I looked at Mom closely and then I headed for the bathroom. The guys always washed their hands in the sink and used the porta potties outside. I went into the tiny bathroom and scrubbed my hands. There was a knock at the door, but I ignored it; scrubbing my hands to my forearms. Someone turned the knob and cracked the door open.
“Can I come in?” Elle asked in a whisper.
I nodded and moved to the side a little so she could get in. She squeezed behind me and then dropped the lid of the toilet. She sat down and stared up at me. I watched her through the mirror and continued scrubbing.
“Your hair is getting so long,” she smiled. I nodded, but I showed no emotions. Mom had told me she wasn’t coming back from her Grandmother’s for a couple more weeks, but here she was. I bent over the sink and used the attachable sprayer and rinsed off my arms. Elle reached behind her and a pulled one of the towels off the small rack. She stood and started wiping my arms down. I turned to face her, and we stared into each other’s eyes. Normally, Elle would turn away from me by now, but this time she didn’t. I bent down a little closer to her and she didn’t move. My lips pressed against hers, and she opened her mouth, welcoming me inside. I pulled her close, but something was off. Elle didn’t feel the same, she didn’t smell the same, she didn’t breathe the same, she didn’t taste the same, and fucking damn well, she didn’t look the same.
She wore a white flowery short jumpsuit with white tennis shoes. I had never seen Elle wear the color white before. She had cut her hair, and now it hung off the sides of her shoulders. She wore makeup, and it looked caked on her face. Elle has never worn makeup; I didn’t even know she knew how. I pulled back from her and she looked shocked. I turned to face the mirror, and my lips were the same color as Elle’s. I quickly washed the lipstick off and left the bathroom.
I sat down with the rest of guys and started eating. The RV was humming with a handful of different conversations going on. Kanoke and Loon silently watched me during lunch. Kanoke looked worried, and Loon looked puzzled. Elle stayed in the bathroom during our lunch. When we were finishing up, Mom came back in with arms full of fabric. A few of the guys closest to the door helped her with her pieces. She thanked them and then searched the room for me. She smiled and began looking over the RV again. I knew she was looking for Elle, and then she wore the same expression that Kanoke wore.
“Lil Samson, could you help me get these fabrics in the truck?” she asked from across the room.
“We’ll get them for you, JJ,” a few of the guys told her. But Mom was staring dead at me and the guys noticed her look. I stood from the table and walked over to her. She grabbed a few bundles of fabric and then went out the door. I collected the rest and went out behind her. Her truck was parked a few yards from the RV. We walked in silence to her truck. We loaded the back cab of her truck with the fabric.
“Where is she?” she asked.
“Still in the bathroom.”
“Why?” she frowned. I shrugged, and she sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
“She’s got all that shit on her face; she’s cut all her damn hair off, and look how she’s dressed!” I spit. Mom stopped looking at me then; she kept her eyes on the ground.
“What else?” she asked me. She looked back up at me then. I shook my head and leaned up against the truck. I heard the music from the tent starting.
“I got to go.”
“What else?” she asked again.
“She’s different,” I told her. I sat up straight and kissed Mom on the cheek. I started back towards the RV.
“Different bad or different good?” she asked out loud. At that very moment, I could see Elle walking towards us. She stopped for a second and then began walking again.
“Bad,” I called back to Mom, and then I bee-lined it back to the tent, avoiding the awkward walk by with Elle.
Chapter 2
The next morning, the alarm clock went off at 5:00 a.m. We always stayed in the city over the weekends. It made more sense to just be here instead of driving back every day. I rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed. I looked out the hotel window and over at Puget Sound. There were boats everywhere, and the little twinkle lights were still lit on the docks. They started the little lights around the docks a year ago. A lot of people complained about them, but I liked them. It gave the docks a soft look; when in reality, there was nothing soft about the docks. Workers would go out day after day and fight with the mean and angry water just to make a buck. It was hard work, and it could beat you down at times. But it was all we knew.
My phone buzzed and I picked it up from the nightstand. I had six missed calls and a dozen text messages. My little sister, Patty, had called me a couple of times; so had my mom, and then Sheen. I knew Patty and Mom wanted to probably know what was up with me and Elle. But I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to talk about it. Something was off with Elle, and I didn’t know what. She’s had to go and heal at her grandparents’ before and she came back just the same. But this time something is different with her.
Sheen never calls me to just talk. When he calls, he has something he needs to say or ask. I knew he would still be sleep this early on the weekend, so I planned to hit
him up later. I shot him a quick text.
“I was knocked out last night. Hit me up when you wake up.”
I stood and stretched wide. I picked up the remote on the nightstand and pushed power. The TV hummed on, and I went and got into the shower. I was dried off and halfway dressed when I heard the knock at my door. I pulled my shorts up and held my tank in my hands. I walked over to the door and looked through the peephole. I sighed and unlatched the door and turned the knob to open it. I stepped back so Elle could walk in. She was wearing the same shit she had on the day before. Her hair was all messed up, and her makeup was all runny and smeared.
I pulled her to me quickly; both of my hands were wrapped around her tiny arms. I slumped down to look at her dead on.
“Has someone hurt you?” I yelled. She looked like she had been dragged from a car or something even worse. She nodded and then she started sobbing.
“Who hurt you, Elle?” my adrenaline was now in overdrive; and kill, kill, kill was all I was thinking. She swallowed hard and stared at me with her piercing eyes.
“You!” she cried, and then the sobbing really started.
I pushed out a breath of frustration, then helped her to the bed and sat her down at the foot. I left her there and went into the bathroom to get the tissue box and two warm face towels. She used the tissues I handed her first; then I helped her get the gunk off her face. I heard my phone buzz on the nightstand, but I didn’t go to get it. I rubbed Elle’s eyes again with the towel, and something fell. It looked like a spider. I looked closely at the bug and noticed it looked more like a centipede than a spider. I picked the small thing up from her face and it was a fake eyelash. I dropped it to the floor.
“Do you still love me?” she asked in a shaky voice. Tears welled in her eyes again, and she was about to start up all over.
“I do love you,” I said
“You act like you hate me, and we haven’t really talked in months.”
“Elle, I talked to you almost every day.”
“Not really, it’s like it scripted or something. And you never came to see me at my grandparents’ house.”
“Elle, you know I’ve been working, and you know what the summer time means for the business.”
“Bullshit.”
“Why are you wearing all this shit? All this shit on your face and your clothes…this isn’t you, Elle.”
“I can’t change? I can’t wear makeup and nice clothes? I can’t want to look pretty for you?”
“You’re already pretty. You don’t need this shit. And women who wear makeup don’t just start wearing makeup in their late twenties. This isn’t you, Elle; and I don’t like it. You look different and you feel different.”
“I do feel different,” she looked down at the floor and took a deep breath. She looked over at me sitting right next to her. “I’m Pregnant.”
*****
On Monday morning, we sat in a busy women’s clinic waiting room. Kids were running around everywhere and neither one of us said a word. Elle and I hadn’t really talked since Sunday morning. After Elle made her announcement, we both fell silent. I didn’t go to the market that day. Elle and I stayed in the room all day and night. We ordered room service and watched TV I called Mom and told her, and she told me to stay put until she called me back. We ordered Elle some pajamas and a couple of the local universities sweat suits from the hotel gift shop. The clothes arrived, and Elle was in the shower when Mom called back.
“Lil Samson, I got you guys a doctor’s appointment tomorrow at the Women’s Clinic on Poplin Street. Be there at 8:00 a.m. sharp.” The phone fell silent.
“Where is she?” Mom asked.
“In the shower.”
“Lil Samson, there are rumors going around.”
“About what?”
“You really need to find out how far along she is,” Mom said.
The phone was silent again, and then the thoughts started flowing through my head. I had never had the chance to release myself inside of Elle. We’ve never made it that far. What was my mother saying to me? Had Elle cheated on me? I know I haven’t been around much, but I talked to her almost every day. Why would she do this? I thought she loved me and wanted to be with me.
“Listen, I know you guys are probably already dealing with your own warm piece of hell right now, and I’m not trying to bring you anymore. But just remember to ask the doctor. She’s been gone for four months; Lil Samson…anything less than four months can’t be yours. I know you’re a grown man, and you are well capable of making your own decisions. But I’m your mother, and I will support you no matter what you decide to do.”
“Uh huh,” was all I could say. The shower water turned off.
“I gotta go, Mom.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
We hung up, and the doubts went in and out of me for the rest of the day.
The next morning, the nurse came out and called Elle back. We followed the nurse and went into Elle’s room. They took her weight, blood pressure, blood samples, and had her pee in a cup. About thirty minutes later, the nurse came back and handed Elle a hospital gown and told her to get undressed. I sat in a chair in the back corner silently. I watched Elle the whole time. She turned around to look at me a couple of times, but neither one of us said a thing.
The real truth of the matter is I was planning to propose to Elle this fall. I was waiting until she finished school for accounting, and she would have finished this summer finally. But with this set back, she wouldn’t graduate until next the spring. Elle has had so many setbacks, and this accounting degree has taken almost as long as it would for someone to become a physician. Elle had made it clear that she was ready to be married and to have a family. I wanted that too, but I wanted more for us. We wanted my business to grow into something big. Elle would be the brains and I would the muscle. That was our deal. That was supposed to have been the plan.
The nurse came back in with a doctor. He spoke to the both of us and then prepped himself and began his exam.
“Ms. Tomeo, you are pregnant. I need to do an ultrasound to see how far along you are. Let me track down a machine and we’ll get started. I will be right back.”
The doctor and the nurse left the room. I watched Elle very closely, and she fidgeted a lot. She didn’t turn around to look at me. The nurse came back with another women dressed in scrubs and a white coat. They rolled the machine in with them.
“Ms. Tomeo, this is Dahlia, our Ultrasound Specialist. She will perform your ultra sound,” Elle nodded. They adjusted the table Elle was sitting on and leaned her back into a partially upright position. On her way down, she looked back at me and then turned away quickly. The nurse and the specialist were setting the dials on the machine. I stood and walked over to Elle’s table. I squatted next to her, and she turned to face me with frightened eyes.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked. The nurse turned us, and the room was quiet.
The nurse and the specialist started speaking to one another in whispers.
“What do you mean?” Elle asked.
“Do you really want to do this, Elle?”
“Have the baby?” she asked in confusion. I turned around and looked at the machine and then back at her. She said nothing and just stared at me with pleading eyes. I knew at that very moment. I stood up and went back to my chair in the corner. The nurse watched Elle, and then Elle gave her the nod to go ahead. The machine made these ocean sounds and started sounding like a dolphin. The specialist took a dozen stills, and then the nurse turned the lights back on.
“You’re about two months, maybe a little bit over,” the specialist told her.
“How much over?” I asked.
“Um well, maybe two and half months.”
“So there’s no way what so ever that she could be four months pregnant?” I asked. I stared at the back of Elle’s head the whole time.
“No, she’s definitely not over three months,” the speci
alist said with a smile in her voice. This woman had no idea what that statement meant to us. She had just signed our relationship’s death certificate.
I stood and walked to the door. “I’ll pay for a cab to take you back to the Res,” I called back as I walked out the door. I pulled my phone out my pocket and texted Mom.
Not mine; two months.
I called a cab company and paid over the phone for them to send a car to drive Elle back to the reservation. About five minutes later, my phone buzzed. It was Sheen.
“Yeah.”
“What do you want to do?” he asked.
“Alaska.”
“Now?”
“As soon as possible.”
“I’ll set it up.”
A few minutes later, Sheen called back and said we were to leave the next morning at 4:00 from the port. I told him I would be there. I went back to the hotel and stayed there until the next morning.
When I got to the port, I spotted Sheen’s Mohawk right away. I walked over to him and then noticed he wasn’t alone. Kanoke was there too, and someone else, but I couldn’t make them out. Sheen turned to face me when I walked up. Kanoke watched me and then sighed. Loon turned and his bag was at his feet.
“You guys don’t have to do this,” I told them
“Yes, we do,” Loon said. These were my bros; we’ve seen each other through some heavy shit before. But for them to stop their own personal lives to go out in the deep waters of Alaska with me…that shit was heart. Loon ended up lasting a month, and I was surprised he lasted that long out in the water. Kanoke made it a month and half. Sheen would have stayed the whole time if I would have let him, but I made him go back home to his family. I ended up staying out on the water for four months.
For the past four months, I’ve been on a crab boat in Alaska working day and night most times. I made almost a thousand dollars a day. Sheen got us on a special boat with the kind of, you don’t see anything that’s going on and you don’t tell situation. There was a lot of black market fishing going on. We were deep in waters that we weren’t supposed to be in, but we went on with the flow. On my last run out, the man in charge told me he would give me five thousand to run the last trip with his crew. I agreed, and we went out and caught the special catch he was looking for. We made it back to the docks fifteen hours later.
The Enclave of Jyme (G Street Chronicles Presents) Page 2
