Like a Fly on the Wall

by Simone Kelly

  Olivier has gone way past what I can endure. First, he went through my bag one night, looking for God knows what. Then, when I came home from church, he grabbed me between my legs, asked me who I was fucking. Right in front of the baby!

  I slapped him off of me and he slammed me across the bed and continued to question me until he actually ripped off my clothes. He was drunk like a madman. I told him to stop it and he didn’t. I didn’t want to scream and make the neighbors call the cops. I pleaded with him to calm down. He finally relaxed and begged me not to leave him. He was a tornado of emotions that he blamed on drinking.

  We ended up making love even though I really did not want to. After it all, he told me he knew I was fucking someone. He could feel it. He said I felt different. I was so scared, I just lay still and let him finish. I was so scared that he really knew.

  I didn’t speak to him for two days, I told him I felt very disrespected and I didn’t know who he was anymore. He claims he doesn’t really remember what happened that night, but I will never forget it.

  I am now more afraid for Benny. Olivier said more than once, he didn’t like that “church fellow.” He also made a comment about Hicham, saying “How come his ears are so big? No one in his family or my family looks like him.” Olivier just sipped his beer and watched me for a reaction. I ignored him.

  I know I have to leave soon. I am living in fear and I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. Writing and my art are the only things helping me keep my sanity.

  Oct 22nd

  Last night was insane!!!! He told me I could not leave. What I was wearing was inappropriate. INAPPROPRIATE. It was too much makeup and my dress was too short. He must think I am his damn puppet! It was something he’s seen me in a million times, but now all of a sudden I was dressed like a harlot. His jealousy was out of hand. He told me, “You must be trying to impress someone. You are not going. Stay home with your kids, with your family. You are with your church friends every day of the week, volunteering for this and helping with that. You think you’re Mother Teresa?”

  We had it out. I didn’t even care anymore that the kids could hear. He told me if I left to not come back, so I didn’t leave.

  Benny was waiting for me at our diner. We were going to spend time together. Just have a coffee and talk. It’s been a long while since we have been together, almost a month. We missed each other. We tried to stop, but it was not easy. He is my soul mate. My heart aches for him. I see him and I just want to melt in his arms. I never felt such an undying love for anyone. Not even Olivier in the early days. His kindness is so welcoming compared to the brute I live with.

  I felt horrible since I couldn’t call him to tell him I wasn’t coming. Benny thought I stood him up. I had to call him this morning and let him know that Olivier just held me hostage with the constant arguing. It’s getting too much, living like this. Enough is enough. I’m ready. Benny is not ready to tell his wife. He’s such a coward. He doesn’t want our affair to destroy his reputation. I think he is more worried about the wrath of Olivier, since we know he’s not right in his head, especially when he drinks.

  We had to wait. It’s been two years of our affair. The church rumors have started. No one has said anything to my face, but the stares and snickers are there. I’m sick of pretending. From smiling in Emily’s face and pretending I like her when I hate her. When I love her husband and the thought of him touching her and sleeping with her every night and not with me disgusts me to no end.

  She was angry, so angry with my father. I never knew my mother had been so unhappy with him or how controlling he was. I also felt sorry for her now more than ever.

  The unraveling of the truth was overwhelming me. I began making a pile of journals and sketches of future paintings and just work-related notebooks.

  Before I knew it, three hours had gone by and I had traveled deep into my mother’s dark world of secrets. To think . . . it was all a dream that led me here. I just hope my father wasn’t as much of an animal as her diaries made him out to be. Mom could be an exaggerator, but somehow I believed what she wrote. He was probably so sick of the lies and he couldn’t take it anymore. I just had to look at things from both sides.

  I can see now why she was living in fear. Dad sounded very controlling, but I wonder if he became that way after she started cheating on him. Maybe Dad felt her doing something wrong and his intuition just drove him mad to the point that he lashed out and drank.

  I believed my father was very intuitive as well, but probably didn’t know how to handle it. He seemed to have a wild temper and drinking problem similar to Hicham’s . . . even though they weren’t related.

  Seeing the demise of my parents’ love on paper was too much to take in one sitting. Even with all their arguing, I still remember love between them. I saw them make up. Kiss. Hug. I saw my mom cooking his favorite meals, knowing how much he loved them. I’m not sure why they fell out of love, but I guess “Uncle Benny” had something that Dad didn’t. It was all becoming so clear . . . she was truly living in isolation once their marriage broke down. All she had was Benny and her church, and us kids to take care of.

  I definitely didn’t want Hicham to get even more upset by reading these diaries. The real unpleasant truth was not something he could handle. I decided to ship the box to my house. I could have Vicky and maybe even Kylie help me go through them all and see if we could find any information related to my father’s death. As bad as I felt about Mom’s revelations, I also felt a sense of satisfaction. I was finally getting to the bottom of what had been hidden for so long.

  After leaving the post office, I hopped into a cab and called Vicky.

  “Baby.” I was tired.

  “Hi, papi. How’re you doing?” A trail of pity was in her voice.

  “Not so hot. Just left a storage unit my mom had. I keep finding out more and more. It’s not good.”

  “What? What happened, Jacques?”

  “I just feel so disgusted. I’m actually nauseous, I can’t . . . I don’t even want to really talk about it.”

  I saw the taxi driver look at me in the rearview mirror as if he was enjoying the conversation.

  “Look, lemme call you back in a bit. I just wanted you to know to be on the lookout for the box. I just shipped some stuff. I love you.”

  “Oh . . . okay. I love you, too. Call me later. I’m working the night shift.”

  Shit . . . I’d never actually told her I loved her before. It just kinda slipped out. I guess I did love her. I needed her now more than ever.

  I raised my eyebrows at the taxi driver as if to say, “Look at the road and mind your business.”

  “Can you take Spring Street? This way is too congested.”

  “Okay, if you prefer,” he said in a low voice.

  Even though I’d been gone for a few years, I still knew my way around. The driver turned the sports news on his radio up. I didn’t even realize he had turned it down when I got on the phone. Some people are just born snoops.

  I put my headphones back in and listened to my French jazz playlist. I wanted to remember my parents dancing, happy, and even playfully arguing with the music blasting. Édith was singing “La Goualante du Pauvre Jean.” The song said in French, “Without love, one is nothing at all.” We all need love and that’s a fact. I guess love is what my mom was craving. How she got it, I’ll never approve of. I wanted to wash it all away, but the truth was unfolding and love was to blame.

  The sun was setting when I arrived at Hicham’s loft and when I opened the door I heard the TV blasting. The sweet smell of Egyptian musk incense greeted me at the door.

  “Where you been, Jay?” He had the remote in his hand and was flipping channels on his sixty-inch flat-screen TV, his feet on top of the coffee table.

  “Oh, just got caught up going through some things. We gotta get going. Still a few more things left to clear out of the apartment.”

  “Man . . . why didn’t you just take it instead of us renting it?
You could have a spot to stay when you visit and rent it out on Airbnb when you aren’t here.”

  I shook my head and walked over to the kitchen to look in the fridge. I saw nothing in there but beers, a few pieces of fruit, and leftover Chinese. “No, no. Mom died there. That was where we lost her. I don’t want to live there!”

  Hicham raised his voice in defense. “She didn’t die there. It was an accident. She was wrong, it got out of control.”

  I turned around. “Wow, what’s with all the defensiveness? What do you mean it got out of control, Hicham?” I walked closer to him on the couch and stood over him.

  He slowly put down the remote and looked nervously up at me. “She said I was evil. That I turned into a monster. I don’t know, I kinda just lost it, man. She didn’t want to face the shit she did, when I asked her. Even though I heard everything y’all said! Like I don’t matter. My feelings don’t matter. I told you before, I kinda grabbed her.” He stood up to demonstrate on me. “I just shook her by the shoulders to calm her down. We were yelling and we got to tussling.” He paused and sat back down, realizing he was digging a deeper hole for himself.

  I leaned in over him and said, “What the fuck, Hicham! Do you hear yourself, ‘we got to tussling’? How the hell do you let it get that bad? Your story keeps changing and my guides are saying you are lying. I really don’t want to believe what I feel.”

  “Man . . . I don’t even remember how . . . It happened so fast. It was an accident, Jacques! She hit the floor before I knew it. She was tryin’ to get out of my grip, we both fell. I fell on top of her, I think. I . . . tried to get her up.” He mumbled, “She wouldn’t get up . . . she . . .” He burst into tears. “She wouldn’t get up.” He started to cry silently and covered his face. “I fucked up, I fucked up bad. Mommy’s gone.”

  I was furious with him. I felt a lump in my throat. I wanted to punch him in the face. His being such a hothead caused that “accident.”

  “You think I’m gonna go to jail? That detective was on my ass. What are your guides saying?”

  I took a deep breath. “I don’t think so. Well, I hope not. Don’t we get an autopsy result soon? The detective said they were ordering one.”

  He replied, “Yes, he was threatening us with it.”

  I asked, “She didn’t have any bruises, did she?”

  “I don’t think so. I didn’t hit her—that’s my word. She was just running from me . . . like . . . like I was really a monster. She could have hit her head on something on the way down or maybe when I fell on top of her. I don’t know.” He sniffled and walked away to the bathroom. I heard him blowing his nose. He was gone for a few minutes, most likely stalling to come out.

  “How was dinner with Benny?” I shouted to him, trying to change the subject.

  He came back wiping his nose and waving his hand. “Yo, he was talking about nothing. He was still kinda vague about a lot of shit. I guess I was digging too deep about him and Mom. He said I was being rude.” He shrugged his shoulders with a sly smile. I could only imagine what he was asking. “The one thing he did say was how miserable Mom was with Dad, but you know a side-niggah gonna say that to make himself feel good. He said how unhappy he was with his wife, too, and how him and Mom felt like they were prisoners.”

  “I could feel that.” I agreed. Even though I’d just read it in her journals, too.

  “I can’t front, though, I could tell he really did love her. And that he really wanted to tell me all these years. It was real. That’s what keeps fucking with me. Like, I wondered how my life would have been if he was in the house after Dad died, if he would have just been a man. He’s a good dude. It’s just weird . . . having my new father and shit. It’s just fucking weird. We ain’t got nothing in common besides our looks. He’s not a bad-looking dude, just corny. I’m gonna have to teach him some swag. Just ’cause you older don’t mean you can’t be fly.” He got up and dusted off his shoulders playfully.

  Hicham walked over to a little Cuban cigar box on the top of a shelf next to the TV and got a blunt and lit it. He took a puff and passed it to me.

  “No, thanks, but I’ll take a beer.” I walked back to the fridge.

  He took a few hits of his blunt and sat back. He said slowly, “Yooo, you see his ears, though? The shape of his head?” He shook his head and laughed. “I’m tall, built just like him, too.” He took a puff and blew it out slowly while talking. “Shit is crazy, man.”

  I chuckled. “Yes, indeed. He couldn’t deny you if he tried.”

  We started cracking up. “Yo, you know what was wild? Did you know he worked at Rikers Island?”

  “Really? Well, he did know how to stand up to your bullying antics.”

  “Nah, he wasn’t a guard, he was the head of the mental health division. He was a psychologist. He had to deal with a lot of crazies. He said it was rough. He’s retired now, though.”

  “Again, makes a whole lot of sense of how he can handle you.”

  “Whatever, shut up!” He laughed, but shifted his tone and got a bit serious, leaning in to say, “Yo, I got a confession, though.” He rubbed the back of his head and stretched with an exaggerated yawn. “I didn’t stay the whole dinner. He said some shit that pissed me off. He was talking about my temper like he was trying to school me on some father and son shit. Saying I gotta stop acting like I’m twelve and manage my energy better.”

  “Well . . .” I raised my hands and shook my head. Benny had been speaking the truth, but Hicham didn’t want to face it.

  Hicham threw the remote at me and I put my hands up to block it, but he missed. “Fuck you, Jacques!”

  “I hope you didn’t cause a scene.”

  “Nah. I just ate my good Chinese food, got my last sip of drink, and bounced.”

  I shook my head. “It’s Japanese, Hicham.”

  “Yeah, same thing. Anyhow, stop cutting into my story. . . . I told him I had to go. I had work. I don’t need him trying to psychoanalyze me and shit.”

  “Well, I’m glad you even went.” I picked up the remote off the floor and started flipping through channels.

  “Yeah, I’m not that bad. Oh, before all that, I asked him what he told the police when they interviewed him at the hospital.”

  “Really, what did he say?”

  “Nothing about me. He said they were asking about his relationship with Mom. He did say they asked about our argument at the hospital, but he claimed he told them it was nothing.”

  “You got anything else the cops might be researching?” I wanted to see how honest he would be.

  Hicham sat up. “Maaannn, I ain’t even think about that! I got some shit on my record for sure. Tickets and shit, nothing serious really.” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and took another puff, as if his assault and battery cases were nothing. My stomach churned and I shook my head.

  “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” I guess my face couldn’t hide my suspicions. I realized my eyebrows were furrowed.

  “Nothing, man. Mister Goody-goody. You do nothing wrong. My bad.” He got up and stormed into the bathroom again, this time slamming the door.

  I really prayed that when the cops find out what Kylie had found it wouldn’t cause more trouble. I would hate to lose my mother and then my brother!

  I went into the back room where my bed was and started to organize my suitcase and get ready to pack for tomorrow. My flight home was in the afternoon and I planned to go to Mom’s place one last time in the morning to clear out everything before the painters came. Then I was headed back to Miami to start my investigation for real.

  Chapter 27

  Kylie

  Jacques and I have really become cool. It’s almost strange that I actually had a crush on him in the beginning. I’ve learned to take it easy with the questions and listen to my intuition. He’s taught me to follow my gut more instead of relying just on him—which leads me to my latest issue: Breeze coming back into my life and me just allowing him to.
Yes, it’s true the sex is unbelievable and it always has been and he’s still mind-fucking me just as good. I was dying to get a reading from Jacques on what to do next about the men in my life, but I figured I already knew the answer. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.

  Chauncey has taken me to new heights since we’ve met, even though he was once just an Internet crush, but I want to know more. Then we have Antonio. I probably should keep things platonic with him, since we work together. I’m learning a lot from Antonio, and it’s such an exciting job. There is never a dull moment.

  From cheating pastors to social media man-sluts, my detective work is getting better each day. These cases we have are off the chain! Miami sure is one cheating city. It’s not only putting my professional snooping skills to work, but I also get to act a bit, too, and even pretend to be other people.

  Our client Elizabeth Moore-Vlad hired us to catch her husband, Yuri, red-handed. She had information from others, but never enough proof. I called on an old buddy of mine from Columbia who is an IT genius. He gave me some programs to use so that I could hack into people’s social media accounts. I always wanted to do something like this and now I’m getting paid to be nosy. It’s a girl’s dream come true!

  The software he sent me allows me to see messages, deleted messages, and even their key strokes when they are logged in. We even had access to the GPS on Yuri’s cell to see where he was at any given moment. I’m sure it’s illegal, but I didn’t ask.

  I even catfished one of our clients’ husbands just to see how quickly he would react. I used a photo of an amateur model, created a Facebook profile, requested him as a friend, and just like that he sent me a message asking me out on a date. What an idiot! He didn’t even bother to use a fake name.