by Brick
Monty waited for her to say more, but she didn’t. I could see it in his eyes that he wanted to ask more questions. He’d never met his parents, and it had always bothered him.
“What was her name?” he asked her.
“Ella was her name. She ’bout cut ya pappy a new asshole back when they was fourteen. He yet got the scar to prove it,” Ms. Lily said. She rocked in her chair with her mug, laughing like she was remembering the day she spoke of. “They clowned real bad out there. He was mad I ’spose ’cus Ella was bragging about her Indian blood. But she was black, ya see. Pretty dark-skinned black gal. She had long hair and light eyes. She was Claudette’s little foot soldier. Spoke real proper English when she wasn’t mad. Ya piss her off, and the country came outta her quick.”
As much as I wanted to ask Ms. Lily about what Javon and I had spoken about, the look of utter elation on my brother’s face silenced me. It was the first time he’d heard about his folks.
“Ya pappy was right proud of his Indian blood. He always hated when the little black girls claimed Indian just ’cus they looked mixed or had long hair. Ya pappy was a lot like you. He still is. Manuel boxed, you see? He put many grown men flat on their asses. Made King a right nice amount of money. Big-ass Indian, even at fourteen. Voice deeper than King’s at times.”
“What happened to my mama, Ms. Lily?”
She looked at Monty, and her smile faded a bit. “Racist cops got to her. She died fighting, though. Protecting you. Ya father beat a cop to death with his bare hands. Was in prison for some time afterward. Ya grands had you for a while, but ya grandpappy was an old drunk. He beat you and ya grandmama’s ass. One day ya granny got fed up. Came over here with you. She was busted up and bleeding. Told Claudette she wanted to leave. Claudette sent y’all away for a while, but then ya granny died, so you had to come back here. Ya grandpappy got some issues, so he ain’t want you. Claudette sent you to Ms. Dutchess. You remember her, I know.”
Monty nodded, but his hands shook and his eyes held unshed tears. Ms. Dutchess was who Monty had lived with until the old lady died; then Mama had taken him in. I remembered the day his big ass came walking in the house. I chuckled at the memory of him looking at the rest of us kids with a scowl on his face. Head full of wild hair and clutching his boxing gloves for dear life. If I wasn’t mistaken, he had been only about eight or nine.
Ms. Lily continued, “Anyway, one night ya mama was on her way back to the rez when these cops pulled her over. Cops always used to harass the Natives. Ya mama ain’t ever liked the cops. They yanked her out her car, tried to violate her body, but not Ella. Good ole Ella and her switchblade tagged ass. Sliced one of those officers real good. Took him outta here. And was set to do the same to the other one, until he shot her in head.”
“Damn,” Navy said, vocalizing what the rest of us were thinking.
Jai winced as she gasped.
Ms. Lily went on. “No matter. Ya daddy was crazy about that gal. Walked right in that cop’s house and beat that man to death in front of his wife and kids. He knocked the shit out the wife too when she tried to hit him with a bat. He damn near folded that lady in half. Caved her mouth clean in. He killed a cop. They wanted to kill ya pappy, wanted him to fry, but not on Claudette’s watch. She couldn’t keep him out of prison, but she knew the judge who sentenced him. Instead of life or the death penalty, the judge gave him fifteen years. Pissed a lot of folk off, but Claudette was queen by then. Nobody was gonna test her.”
“My daddy still in prison?” Monty asked.
Ms. Lily shook her head. “Naw.”
“Where is he?”
“Closer than ya think. Ya know, he fought ’side King on the day he died. Him and ya mama. Them two kids fought to save King, until he made them leave him. We got outnumbered. King made me take them to the rez. Made me leave him too. Boy, that damn Ella jumped from the roof of the office on the back of a man and stuck him good. Bled him like a gutted hog, ya hear? Manuel was tagging ass too. That damn Indian was big, but he moved light as hell on his feet. If they didn’t see him coming, he laid ’em down. But King sent us away. Told me if I didn’t get them to the rez, he was going to kill me. I hate that I left him. That man and Claudette was the only two real friends I ever had. I lost both of ’em.” Ms. Lily’s voice croaked as if she was about to cry.
I went over and sat next to Monty, who looked as if he was somewhere between grief and happiness. Sad because he had finally found out what had happened to his mother, and happy because his father was somewhere out there and, according to Ms. Lily, he was close. I held his hand, while Inez sat on the other side of him and did the same. Navy and Jojo flanked us and laid hands on his shoulders. Jai ran her hand over his head, then kissed him there. It was a sobering moment.
In all that, Ms. Lily had just about answered the questions I had wanted to ask. It was good to know that on King’s last day, he hadn’t had to fight alone. After I made sure Monty was okay, I got down to what I wanted to ask Ms. Lily.
“What do you know about the Knights of St. Assisi, Ms. Lily?” I asked the old woman.
She frowned, then sat up straighter. She studied me for a moment. “You already know the answer to that, don’t chu?”
I nodded.
She said, “They killed King.”
“Who would have sent them?” I asked.
“A priest . . . someone from Vatican City.”
My head jerked back. “Why would Vatican City care—”
“The mob runs deep, baby. King’s family always ran with the big dogs, the who’s who of the underworld. I ain’t never know who sent me to kill him the first time, if that’s what you hunting after. Back then, you get an order, you carry it out. No questions asked.”
I could tell that bit of information had shocked the rest of the family by the way they all got wide eyed. I was kind of disappointed Ms. Lily couldn’t shed more light on who could have given the order to kill King. But she was old now and probably didn’t remember a lot of things. However, I was grateful for the bit of information she had given us.
A few minutes later, Monty, Jojo, and Navy walked Ms. Lily home. I was mentally exhausted and knew everyone else was too.
* * *
The next morning, Nighthawk showed up at the ass crack of dawn to get Monty for his training. However, Monty couldn’t leave until he made sure the Forty Thieves and the guards from Rize had checked in. He took his job serious. Since Cory had come back, Monty was no longer head of security. He was now cohead, and he always made sure his end was on point. Once a weapons check and a head count were done, we all sat down to breakfast.
While they ate, I made sure things at J.M. & Co. Financial Security were running smoothly. I didn’t work for Javon, but I could run his company just as good as he could in his absence. Since I had to be on strict bed rest while pregnant, I hadn’t had time to set up my real estate business. However, I did do financial consulting on the side, and it brought in good money. I also still ran all the legit businesses Mama had left behind. No one could question where our money came from, since everyone in the family had legitimate jobs.
Ms. Lily was a little late this morning, but she showed up, as always. The first thing she did was head to the girls. However, I had Honor latched on to my breast, while Jojo sat feeding Justice from a bottle. Ms. Lily was all smiles as she went from me to Jojo, speaking to the girls in German.
“Hurry up with feeding them,” she fussed. “I promised them some good stories today. Y’all holding me up. Jojo, you have to hold that baby’s head better than that,” she said while helping Jojo to adjust Justice’s head better. I didn’t think Jojo was doing a bad job, but when it came to her girls, Ms. Lily had to have everything perfect. Then she looked at Nighthawk and said, “How you doing?”
Nighthawk, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that showed pride in his Seminole heritage, nodded at Ms. Lily. “I’m fine, Lily. How are you?” he asked.
“Can’t complain, really. I’m just old as hell and
wondering how much longer I got here.”
She kept studying Nighthawk like she was trying to figure something out. She smiled, then took a seat in her favorite chair. She started humming as she looked out the window. Ms. Lily was finicky like that. One minute she seemed happy. The next she withdrew into herself, like she had traveled back to another time.
“Shanelle, ya wanna know more about that day in the summer of nineteen eighty-five?” she asked after a while.
I took Honor off my breast, covered myself, then proceeded to burp her. “You remember something else?”
“No.”
I sighed. Was kind of annoyed. “So why did you ask, Ms. Lily?”
“Because I’m sure Manuel does,” she said.
From where I was sitting in the front room, I could see into the dining room. Monty’s head snapped up. He dropped his fork and damn near toppled the table over as he abruptly stood. He rushed into the front room.
“You know where he is?” Monty asked Ms. Lily.
She looked at him and tilted her head. “Course I do,” she said.
When she said nothing else, I could tell Monty got annoyed. He scratched his head, ran a hand through his hair, then switched his weight from one foot to the other.
“I meant to ask last night but got caught up in my emotions. But where is he, Ms. Lily?” he asked her.
Nighthawk took a deep breath, which drew my attention to him.
“Manuel, you ever gon’ tell this boy you his pappy?” Ms. Lily asked.
At first I thought the lady had lost her mind. Maybe she had gone senile, and we’d missed the signs.
“I know you never wanted Mama to tell him who you was ’cus you was ashamed of going to prison and all. Mama and you argued about that, remember?” She turned to look at Nighthawk. “I don’t know why ain’t nobody put two and four together to get eight yet,” she said. “The boy may look like his mama, but he every bit of you in height and build.”
“Oh shit,” Jojo said.
Navy quipped, “Jesus H. Christ.” His mouth was agape as he looked from Nighthawk to Monty. “Yo! I always thought . . . Yo!”
I had no words. I felt stupid. How could something so obvious have escaped all of us? I mean, granted we had met Nighthawk only after Mama had died, but still, the fact that it took Ms. Lily pointing out the obvious blew my mind. Ms. Lily turned back to face the window.
Monty’s whole body stiffened as he gazed across the room at Nighthawk. A barrage of emotions flittered across his face. His chest heaved up and down heavily.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Monty asked.
Nighthawk looked at his son. “I would have . . . eventually.”
“Eventually,” Monty repeated, like he hadn’t heard him the first time.
Nighthawk relaxed his stance. “I’d rather we do this in private. I don’t want us to speak about this the first time in front of others. Not when your emotions are this raw.”
“For over a year, I’ve been coming to the rez, doing lessons and learning about my Seminole heritage, and every day you looked at me, knowing I was your son?”
Nighthawk nodded.
“You heard me vocalize wishing I’d known my mother, and you ain’t say shit,” Monty said, his voice hardening by the second.
“It wasn’t the right time,” Nighthawk said. “You’re what? Nineteen now? I spent fifteen years of your life in prison. I got out a year before Mama died, and when she took me to your school one day to show me how much you’d grown and I got to see you happy and thriving, I didn’t wanna ruin that. I didn’t have shit to offer you. You were happy here with Mama and the kids you’d come to love as your siblings. What did I have, Monty? A drunk father and a small house on the rez?”
“You would have been enough,” Monty said. “Just you. Just knowing you were my dad would have been enough.”
Nighthawk shook his head. “No. I had to have something to offer you other than just my mere presence. I owed your mother more than that, owed you more than that. Mama put me back on the payroll, but she told me not to even glance your way if I wasn’t ready to be your father full-time, and I knew I wasn’t ready. Then she was killed, and I knew I had to be a part of your life some kind of way. Javon putting me in a seat at the table of the Syndicate worked out perfectly.”
Monty was about to say something, but just then Ms. Lily spoke up.
“I remember they wanted King to call Claudette,” she said.
“Huh?” I asked. “Who?”
“The Knights who had come to kill him.”
Inez asked, “Why?”
“That’s kind of odd, to ask him to do that while trying to kill him, unless they wanted to lure her back,” I said.
“I thought it odd then too,” Nighthawk said. “But when I cornered one of the men around back of King’s office, he was talking into a walkie, saying Claudette wasn’t there.”
Ms. Lily eyes widened as she turned around. “It was to be an ambush. They . . . they wanted to kill them both. Claudette was s’pose to be there. It was to be a double tap. Double tap for our kind meant like a two-for-one special.”
“But she got that call about her goddaughter being raped,” I said, remembering Mama’s words from her journal. “So she wasn’t in town.”
“I always said King had a sixth sense when it came to protecting his woman,” Ms. Lily said. “That man knew something . . . some kind of way he knew she needed to get ’way from here. We always joked about how his family’s voodoo roots worked for him a lot.”
Inez shot up from the couch. “What if Javon being called to New York is a setup, sis? What if they were lured there?”
My heart damn near leapt out my chest onto the floor. “That makes no sense. Why kill Cavriel and try to kill Luci just to lure Javon in? And where the hell is Absolan?”
“It’s a king’s descent,” Ms. Lily said.
My whole body shook. I tried to stand and fell back on the couch. I knew what a king’s descent was. I’d read about it in Mama’s and King’s journals. “They don’t just take out the king. They wipe out the whole bloodline,” I whispered.
“But Javon isn’t any kin to any of them,” Jojo said.
“Oh, but he is,” Ms. Lily said. “Lucky is Claudette’s nephew. Javon is Claudette’s son.”
“By adoption, not blood,” Navy said.
“Don’t matter. She claimed the boy as her own,” Ms. Lily continued.
“That means that Cory and Uncle Snap will get hit too,” Inez said, sheer terror etched on her features. “I . . . I can’t lose Cory,” she said. “And we can’t lose Javon or Uncle Snap.”
“We have to warn them,” Navy said.
“But the whole bloodline?” Jojo asked, fear creasing his brows. “Don’t that mean they could come for us too?”
Inez said, “Technically speaking, they lured the king and his right-hand men away from his family. . . .”
“We’re sitting ducks?” Monty asked, but it came out more like a statement.
I looked at Honor and couldn’t imagine a life where she didn’t know her father’s touch or his love. I also couldn’t imagine having someone take me from my child. That cycle had to stop. I shot up from the couch and grabbed my cell. I dialed Javon, only to get no answer. I tried another three times and got the same results. I tried Uncle Snap, only to have his phone go straight to voice mail.
“Cory ain’t answering,” Inez said, panic lacing her voice.
I did something I had said I’d never do. I called Lucky, praying that he answered. Maybe he would know where Javon was. Maybe he could calm the voice in my head that was telling me my man was in distress. However, Lucky didn’t answer his phone. My gut told me Javon was in trouble. Thinking about the fact that I wasn’t there to have his back caused my whole world to collapse.
Chapter 19
Claudette
My dearest King, let me tell you through my words, my memories in this journal of mine, that I always could feel you. In my dreams, my
mind, in the wind, the land. I always felt you, even when you were not near. And that night, as I went after Lonnie, it was no different. I felt you all in me, through me, the sweet, endearing chuckle of your voice in my mind....
2L#
Kitty’s Juke Joint was only a block straight from Betsy’s house. Everything around me was quiet as a soundproof room. The dark skies twinkled as the moon revealed itself in its full, beautiful majesty. It was strange to me because I was in a clear, lucid zone.
Though it was close to midnight—it was 10:30 p.m. when I left Betsy’s home—it didn’t feel like it. My feet were thumping on the street, my breasts bouncing, as my walk was mean with purpose, I tell ya. I looked left, then right, plump lips set in a mean look, like that of a hunting wolf. I could see a few elders watching from their houses. It made me glance at them in response.
“I got rights. Rights all y’all were too scared to handle yaself. My Big Daddy Haynes is no longer on this earth to enact law, but I got rights as his blood and surviving child.”
There was a rage in me, and the town needed to know it.
“I call the old law up in here, and y’all all knew it when I came home. Don’t y’all call no one, undastand me!” I shouted. “This is sundown rights, hear me?”
When the doors to some of the elders’ homes opened and I saw them pull out chairs on their porches and flash lights in support, I kept my strut right up to the large former train depot that was now Kitty’s Juke Joint. A flashing sign of a cat flickered with the rhythm of my beating anger. I could hear Patti LaBelle crooning with Michael McDonald, until the tune switched to Janet Jackson trying to sing about somebody being nasty.
Cautiously, I put my gun against the small of my back, palmed my switchblade, then walked into the smoky club. Cigarette butts and walnut shells were scattered on the oak floors of the joint. There were the occasional spills as well, which made the floors sticky. Now, I knew Vernon Kitt, the owner, was particular about keeping his place clean, but since he was up in age, I could see that things had changed a bit.
At the right and left of me, I saw a couple of elders—Mrs. Wilks, who flipped on some Muddy Waters, and Mr. Wilks, who sat in a booth, cradling his favorite Colt 45 bottle with a shot of moonshine.
