Nothing prepared her to find Jasper Stone seated at the base of one of the massive moss trees that encircled the cemetery. There he sat and Carmen felt her courage- give way to curiosity. She observed him before daring to intrude. Her eyes narrowed when she discovered the source of the pop and snapping. He’d been breaking sticks that littered the ground. She noticed that quite a few of those sticks were thick and dangerously ragged. Jasper broke them like they were twigs and she could see him wince when it caused him pain.
He appeared to stiffen then- straightening slightly from the tree like an animal that sensed its solitude had been threatened. Carmen moved in when he turned his head in her direction. She apologized for disturbing him before he could apologize for being on her property and she dropped down next to him before he could stand.
“Jasper!” Horrified, she’d spotted the true extent of the damage done by the sticks he’d been breaking in half.
“What are you doing?” She tucked the longer edge of her bang behind an ear and took a closer look at his hands. “You could pick up all kinds of germs from these rotting sticks.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he grimaced when she touched one of the cuts.
“Your Mama would be worried sick if she saw your hands.”
“Would she?”
“Sure she would.”
He hadn’t phrased the words like he’d expected a response. When Carmen glimpsed his face she knew there was more going on.
“What are you doing out here Jasper?”
“What’s it feel like to come from greatness, Carm?” He watched the cemetery.
“Jasper?” Carmen shook her head. “What-?”
“Must be somethin’ else to know the blood of good people, powerful and…respected people flows through your veins?”
“Jasper why-?”
“Do you know why I’m here, Carm?” He continued to watch the grave. “Because my Mama screwed some other woman’s husband.”
Carmen drew her knees up to her chin. She knew the story well. It was still a great scandal in Savannah’s black community through it’d occurred some six or seven years before she was born.
She rubbed a hand across the knee of his faded denims. “Jasper don’t-”
“I heard she was pregnant other times before me. She…got rid of ‘em. She thought she had a catch in Joe Cade- figured I was the leverage she’d need to get him to leave his wife.”
“Jasper don’t. It doesn’t matter.” She perched on her bare knees and smoothed a hand along his forearm. “You had nothing to do with it- any of it.”
He was already shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll be paying for it for the rest of my life.”
“That’s true only if you allow it to rule you.”
“But don’t you see Carm?” He turned to her then. “It does rule me.” His light eyes faltered to the cuts inflicted by the sticks and his own short nails. “The blood always rules. I’ll be nothing because my Mama before me was-”
“Stop it.” Carmen scooted closer and tugged the front of his shirt. “You’re a great guy.” She linked arms about his neck, pressing her cheek to his. “I won’t let you do this to yourself. I can’t stand to watch it, not when…” Instead of finishing the statement in words, she finished in action and kissed him.
Jasper’s surprise quickly gave way to need. The kiss took on an intensity that overruled any innocent uncertainties that may have existed. Carmen behaved in the manner of a woman far beyond thirteen years. Her soft whimpers and rubbings against him, stoked a familiar tightening below Jasper’s waist. She fully straddled his lap, losing her fingers in his silky hair.
Jasper made a move to steady Carmen and drew her closer. The pain in his hands; when they flexed, brought him back to reality.
“Jesus Carmen what the hell are you doin’?” The words came out in a hiss.
Again, Carmen chose action over words and simply stared her answer.
Jasper managed a chuckle in spite of all that had happened that day. “You’re crazy.”
“Why?” She challenged, quickly tossing hair from her eyes.
Jasper massaged his neck. “I don’t have enough time to list all the reasons. Let’s leave it at the fact that you’re thirteen and a Ramsey.”
Lashes fluttered when she rolled her eyes. “My name means nothing as for my age…” she shrugged a shoulder. “That’s only a matter of time. It’ll change.”
“Your name is everything.” He fisted a hand about her upper arm. “Don’t forget that Carmen. You’re good inside. Don’t taint it…with filth.”
“Jasper-”
“Stop.” He stood, looked around the expanse of the cemetery then back at her. “Forget this happened.”
Carmen looked away but not before Jasper spied her wide eyes glistened by tears. His expression softened but he wouldn’t give in and stomped away from her.
R
~CHAPTER SIX~
A single knock on his office door, brought Westin’s head up out of the thick folder he frowned over. Seeing his little brother at the threshold quickly removed the frown. Laughing then, Westin moved from behind the desk to greet Damon with a hug.
“Good to see you! Real good!” West drew the boy into another hug. His glee was genuine as both he and Quentin had their concerns that the boy might break from the family and not work for Ramsey when his time came.
“I stopped by to speak the other day.” Damon explained while they hugged. “Kollette told me you were in a meeting.”
“Ah,” West’s smile deepened at the news of a previous visit. It was like pulling teeth to get the boy to come into the office when he was home from school.
“Yeah I’d stopped by for lunch with Pop. He was um…too busy to see me when I got here.”
West tilted his head. “Come on in, man.” With a wave he ushered his brother toward the office living area.
While Damon took a seat, West headed for the bar and withdrew two Pepsi Colas from the refrigerated under chest. For a time, the brothers sat silently enjoying sips from their respective bottles.
“You need to talk about somethin’ man?” West crossed ankle over knee while leaning back in the square leather chair he occupied.
“Pop was with Marc.”
“Were they talkin’ or fightin’?” West’s hand tightened on the Pepsi bottle. Damon’s answering look roused a low curse in his throat. “What about?” He left the chair.
“Somethin’ about Marc heading a youth project.”
West perched the bottle on the corner of his desk and braced his fists atop the pine surface. “Ma’s been pushin’ Pop to give Marc more responsibility in the business.” He turned and folded arms across the front of his cream dress shirt. “We felt he couldn’t do much damage in the youth division since it’s just gearing up. It’d be a good first project for Marc to get his feet wet in.” Again, West cursed, massaging the area where soft hair tapered at his neck. I should’ve known the jackass would throw it back in Pop’s face. I’d hoped I was wrong…” West blinked suddenly, realizing he’d been rambling off his worries to his little brother.
“Sorry man.”
Damon waved off the apology. “You think Pop’ll try again or just forget it?”
“Probably try again.” West stroked the square angle of his jaw. “Ma really wants Marc to have a place here.”
“Maybe he’s not meant to have a place here.” Damon saw the look his brother flashed and assumed it was because West didn’t approve. Immediately, Damon stood to defend his opinion.
“He’s wrong West.” Damon eased both hands into the back pockets of his beige trousers and walked over to peer out the window overlooking the Ramsey back lot. “Somethin’s not right about him. Never has been. Then there’s that weird hold he’s got over Houston…”
“Hell you sound like Pop.” Westin smiled in spite of the seriousness of the conversation. “What’s that fancy private school teachin’ you?”
Damon turned from the window. His pitch star
e relayed that he was in no mood to be teased.
“If goin’ to that school’s taught me one thing, it’s to see people for what they are not what just their words or just their actions say- but a combination of both.” Tugging agitatedly at the collar of his black and beige striped top, he thought of the private boarding school he’d attended for the past three years.
The place had been established as something of an experiment to test the waters of black and white co-education. While Damon had made many new friends outside his race, the experience away from home hadn’t been all roses. Over the years, it had become easier to read between the lines of certain well-meaning remarks voiced by his white acquaintances. In spite of their open-minded upbringings by progressive parents, many weren’t a step above the blatant racists dwelling right there in Savannah. They just knew how to mask it better, so to speak.
“There’s something…wrong with Marcus.” Damon reiterated, once more staring past the window. “I’m just asking you to keep an eye out.”
West nodded when Damon gave him the benefit of his gaze. Silently, West admired his brother-acknowledging the man he was becoming. Their father had gotten it right. Damon would be the future of Ramsey, bypassing Marc and Houston without really having to try.
“Thanks for stopping by, man.” West extended a hand to shake before drawing his brother into another hug.
***
“Hey man, get away from them shades!” Charlton blared at Houston. “You want everybody to know we in here and just ripped off a Chem lab?”
Houston’s face tightened in the wake of an outburst. He chose to keep his mouth shut and let the tattered shade fall back in place across the window.
They’d selected the main storeroom for the Corner Market Grocer as their ‘safe house’ following the robbery. Located at the far end of an alley; the storeroom was equipped with a private phone and the building was mostly visited late night every two Sundays.
Charlton rolled his eyes away from Houston and back to Marcus who sat talking to their contacts about the success of the job. Like Houston had before, Charlton now looked as if he wanted to say something but saw the prudence in keeping his mouth shut.
To himself, he could admit how it stung when the contact asked to speak to the Ramsey- preferring to talk with Marc regarding the payoff for the stash of strange chemicals they’d lifted from the lab. If it hadn’t been for him making contact in the first place Marcus Ramsey would’ve had nothing to hold his high powered discussion over Charlt thought.
Of course, Charlton knew it had nothing to do with Marc personally. It was the Ramsey name that had mesmerized the Atlanta cigar man who was their front for the goods. They could’ve probably made out with a fraction of what they’d managed to lift from that lab and the man would’ve still been salivating over the chance to talk business with one of the Ramseys.
Marcus laughed over the phone just then. Charlton pulled a cigarette from behind his ear, rolled his eyes and swiveled the chair away from his friend.
Only one person in the storeroom could’ve been happier than Marc. Jasper had felt like a kid on Christmas when they broke the lock to Dr. Manford Pressley’s lab. The never ending rows of shelving carried bottles of all shapes, sizes and colors. Jasper was in awe and could barely remain focused on his real reason for being there.
Jasper had often dreamed of asking the doctor for a job just to be close to the science. Whether he was a student or not- the opportunity seemed like heaven. He’d cast off the idea more times than he could count-figuring the doc would never allow a black kid close to his prized possessions and certainly not a black kid with his background.
But there he was and he certainly planned to savor the opportunity. In the meeting place at the grocer’s storeroom, Jasper relished the items he’d taken for his own personal use.
What could he learn from the vials of unassuming liquids? What could he discover by studying them? Science-chemistry especially had always fascinated him. Had he been able to continue his education with college, chemistry would have been his course of study. Chemicals. The wrong combination was poison. The right could produce a cure to save millions. It was the same with people Jasper thought and took a few moments to observe the healing cuts in his palms. A combination of the right people could create a masterpiece. The wrong people-abomination.
“Marc? You sure this place is safe?” Houston brushed past Charlton to question his brother once the call with the contact had ended.
“Man, won’t you get off that shit-” Charlton’s tirade silenced when he glimpsed Marc’s deadly look.
“The place is fine Hous,” Marc reassured his brother.
“And Jeff? You sure we can count on him not to say anything?”
Charlton even cooled to wait on Marc’s response.
Marcus was already nodding. “Jeff’s cool.”
“He’s goin’ to study law in school.” Charlton drew another cigarette from his pocket. “How loyal is your friend to his callin’?”
“Very. But he wouldn’t rat on a friend. He’s loyal there too.”
“Crazy,” Charlton murmured while turning away to light the cigarette. “I’ll never get how you can be friends with a lil’ punk like that.”
“Charlt’s right Marc,” Houston stepped forward wringing his hands, “it could be dangerous with Jeff knowin’ everything.”
“Don’t y’all know it’s always good to have a friend who’s beyond reproach?” Marc rolled his eyes when Houston and Charlton fixed him with blank stares. “A person like that in your corner makes folks second guess how much foul shit you could really be into.” He hitched a thumb across his shoulder. “Get the stuff packed so we can get out of here. Jasper? Jasper? Hey Jas!” Marc hitched his thumb toward the boxes waiting to be packed.
“So what’d the buyer say?” Charlton asked, once Houston and Jasper were at work.
Marc winked. “We’ll talk later.”
***
Catrina’s energy was focused on scrubbing the surface of the rear tables. Her thoughts though, were focused on her last conversation with Damon. God, she didn’t even know the boy’s last name and probably wouldn’t have the chance to find out now.
She could almost feel him zoning out when she launched her sermon on business. Boys always got that look in their eyes when she started to discuss her veritable obsession with it.
Boys usually grew bored with airheads but a girl with a brain didn’t even stand half a chance. Oh well, she sighed and launched into scrubbing a greasy corner with renewed vigor. At least she’d have a few fond memories of the very fine chocolate-skinned enigma. She’d just settled the fact in her mind when he walked by the café’s bay window.
Damon had planned to have a late lunch with Westin and continue their conversation from the week before. A last minute meeting pushed West to cancel though. As Damon would be heading back to school for fall term in a few more days, the chances of them having another time to talk seriously would probably not be possible.
Head bowed and hands pushed deep in his gray trouser pockets, Damon looked up in time to realize where he was. Without hesitating, he walked into Jeffries and locked gazes with her the moment he turned his head.
Catrina twisted the dishcloth she held and watched him approach. Her sparkling mahoganies were wide with expectancy.
“The section’s closed.” She blurted when only a table separated them. Closing her eyes then, she cursed herself. Airhead indeed…perhaps there was hope after all.
Damon smirked. “It’s okay. I’m not hungry.”
Catrina’s expectant stare flushed with concern when he took a seat at the table she’d just cleaned. “Are you okay?” She sat as well.
“I’m good.” His burgundy shirt crinkled at the shoulders when he shrugged. “Not looking forward to the end of summer is all.”
“What school do you go to?” Catrina asked once she’d bit her lip on the question long enough. She’d never recalled seeing him around the halls of Bo
oker T. Washington High.
Damon bristled inwardly, hoping the question wouldn’t lead to more concerning his background. “I’m away at school.”
“Away?” Catrina sighed, her gaze brightening in a dreamy manner as she fidgeted with the neck line of her striped blouse. “That must be out of sight.”
Damon had to smile. “It’s got its moments.”
“Gosh,” she flopped back in the chair. “I wouldn’t know how to act if I went at least two whole days without bein’ told to scrub somethin’ or toss out somethin’.”
His laughter came through full and genuine then. “My dad would say startin’ at the bottom builds a strong leader.” Damon broke his own rule against background information before he’d even realized it.
Catrina simply shook her head. “I should be Hercules by now then.”
“You must miss your family a lot being away at school?” She noted once silence returned after more laughter had ended.
“I miss some of them.”
“Ah! An aggravating little brother?”
“Hmph. Try aggravating older brothers.”
Catrina laughed, but silenced when he slanted her a look. “Sorry.”
Shamefully long lashes shielded his stare when he shook his head. “Don’t be. I wish it was as funny to me.”
“I’m sorry anyway. If it’s not funny to you, I shouldn’t have laughed.”
Damon reached over to fidget with a glass pepper shaker. “You got any brothers or sisters?”
“No,” she propped a fist to her cheek. “Lots of cousins, though. Lots.”
He chuckled. “Guess it’s easier when they don’t come home with you, huh?”
The Ramseys Boxed Set Page 161
