by Teri Woods
Don’t be a fool. It’s hard to get a good man, and Dwight wants to settle down and have a family. Isn’t that what you always wanted?
Nina had put in for a transfer at the bank she worked in to move to Maryland. The company was opening thirty new branches throughout the state and she was in line for a promotion, already serving as assistant branch manager. She had her sights set on Annapolis. She had always wanted to live near the water. A week ago she found out her transfer had been approved and a position awaited her if she wanted to take it. She thought long and hard about leaving Newark. It was a little intimidating to travel into the unknown, but she was ready to move on with her life. For the past couple of years she had been living in a twilight Dutch daze, completely stagnant. It was time to start fresh, time to rebuild her life.
She asked herself over and over again, trying to figure out why she couldn’t commit to Dwight, the perfect man. I’m so sorry, Dwight, I just can’t. She scribbled a note to him, breaking their engagement, on a piece of paper. When he woke, he’d find his ring placed neatly on the middle of the page. She tiptoed around the apartment gathering things she didn’t want to leave behind and closed the door to what could have been her future behind her.
She thought of Delores, Dutch’s mother, and their last conversation. Nina had pleaded with Delores to tell her if she knew anything about the rumors of Dutch’s still being alive. The streets were always watching and always talking and word was that he had gotten away. But Delores refused to share her own secret thoughts about the body that she had signed for and had cremated. She had no choice but to keep her secret. She’d take it to her grave if she thought it would protect Dutch. Nina left Delores’s house with a feeling that she was hiding something. No matter how much Delores denied knowing anything about the rumors, Nina saw right through her. Maybe he is alive, maybe. Nina felt it, and deep down, she believed that was why she knew in her heart she had done the right thing by letting Dwight go. He deserves someone who loves him for him. And that was how she rationalized the breakup.
She drove home in silence, listening to the crazy antics of Howard Stern, but not really hearing one word he said as her mind searched endlessly for the answers to her thoughts. She would make a “to-do” list of all the things she needed to accomplish in order to get through the transfer.
When she got home, she heard the faint sound of music playing, Rolls Royce, softly, like a whisper, coming through her living-room speakers. She looked at the receiver playing CD 2, track 12. Just as she was about to call the police and report an intruder, she realized this was the same song she and Dutch had danced to in the middle of the street so long ago. She looked down on the floor of the hallway leading to her bedroom. What is that? she said as she moved closer to a rose petal lying on the floor. A trail of rose petals continued to her bedroom door. Nina’s heart was beating fast; the mystery of what awaited magnetized her. She wanted to call out his name but couldn’t will her voice to work. She pushed the door open slowly, and what she found stopped her dead in her tracks. Her heart skipped a beat and she lost her breath as she read the rose petals sprawled across her bed.
Will you marry me? And below the question mark was a one-way ticket to Paris. Nina’s body trembled as she listened to Nina Simone in the distance, knowing that it was him, it was Dutch, and he was coming for her.
“Yes, I love you,” she whispered to the air, clutching the one-way ticket to Paris in her hand.
“Wow, I can’t get over the two of you. I leave and come back… to this?” was the question Craze asked, as he looked at Angel about to kill Roc now that she had him where she wanted him, thanks to the little children of the Sister Clare Muhammad School.
“Cr-C-Craze?” Angel spoke in a hushed whisper as she lowered her gun. Angel’s intention to kill Roc was immediately forgotten, and her beef with him was squashed, just like that. “Where’s Dutch?” she asked. Craze laughed.
“Same ol’ Angel… What? Craze don’t get no love? Damn! What about me? Why you ain’t been worried about ol’ Craze?” Craze smiled, and Angel knew it was all good again.
She ran into his arms. He took the gun out of her hand and looked at Rahman, laying the gun down on the table.
“What up, Ock?” asked Craze.
“Long time no see,” he said, thinking of how they had left him and Angel behind in prison cells to rot.
“I know, but it’s all good. It took some time, but it’s all good.”
“A lot’s changed since we last saw each other, Craze.”
“Yeah, I see. You and Angel out this motherfucker trying to kill each other and over what? Look, Roc. You want Newark? Okay. It’s yours. Every spot under Angel’s control is now yours, right, Angel?” Crazed asked, looking at her, demanding a yes out of her mouth that very instant.
“Yeah, whatever, you can have it, Roc,” she said, standing next to Craze. “You can have it all.”
Rahman didn’t say a word to either of them. He just looked at them, thinking back to yesteryear when they were all thick as thieves and the best of friends.
“I just got one question,” said Craze, looking at Roc with steady confidence and surety. “What are you gonna do when the crooked cops, judges, the mob, and the cartels all come at you at once? Because you’ll be eatin’ off their plates if you stop the drugs in Jersey, especially Newark.”
“Good point,” whispered Angel over Craze’s shoulder as she nodded in complete agreement.
“Don’t ‘good point’ me, nigga! You so busy tryin’ to take back what we left behind… We been there, done that, and now we’ve moved on, leaving the bullshit for the rest of the motherfuckers out here to kill theirselves over or end up sitting in a prison cell for the rest of their lives.”
He gently lifted the dragon chain from her neck and held it up to watch it dangle in front of his eyes. He told her she should have buried it with Young World, then let it drop to the floor. Angel moved to pick it up but Craze stopped her.
“Leave it, Angel, just like we leavin’ this petty street paper to the pawns who don’t even know the game they’re playing.”
He turned back to Rahman. “You could have the streets, but the Feds would make sure you wouldn’t keep them long. If you come with me, I’ll really show you how to change the game. No more hood shit, no more street shit. We’re international now, on some next-level shit.” Craze smiled as the old Roc suddenly surfaced from nowhere and smiled back. “How ’bout it?” Craze asked.
Rahman realized Craze was right. Everybody from cops to district attorneys profited from drugs, either directly or indirectly. The whole criminal justice system relied on the backs of niggas and drugs; shit would never change. The hood would never rid itself of drugs. Who politically would even allow it to happen? Like Craze said, they both were fighting a losing battle. Rahman looked at Craze and asked him where they were going. Craze smiled, threw his arm back around Angel, and said, “We’re goin’ to see an old friend.”
The three of them walked out, leaving the tangled dragon chain in a pile on the floor. To be forgotten for good.
ROLL OUT
Angel drove back to Goldi’s apartment only to find it empty. Where she go? Angel wondered. She didn’t have much, as she hadn’t been home long, but the little she did have she began to sort and pack. She thought of leaving Goldi behind.
Damn, this shit is hard. I don’t know what to do. She spoke to Craze about Goldi, assuring him that she was good peeps.
“Craze, listen, we did our bid together. She saved my life.”
He heard her and he felt her pain; he didn’t know what to tell her. Dutch was always game for another Charlie, and if Angel wanted the bitch to come, then who was he to shoot her down?
“Yo, she better be straight, man, that’s all I got to say about it,” said Craze, wanting to hear no more, putting the decision to bring her up to Angel.
Kimberly walked through the door. “Goddamn, it’s hot out there. When you get back?” she asked slipping off her t
ennis shoes.
“About a half hour ago,” said Angel, her tone dull and her voice a little low.
Kimberly looked into the bedroom at Angel, who had a suitcase sitting on the edge of the bed. “What’s going on? Why are you packing?” she asked
“I have to go. It’s time that I leave,” said Angel.
“Leave where?”
“Leave here, leave Newark.”
“Well, should I get packed, too? I am going with you, right?” asked Kimberly, wondering if this was it. Was this the end?
Angel stared into Kimberly’s eyes. Everything about Angel said to leave her, but she loved her; she wanted her along for the ride.
“Listen, this is the deal. If you roll out with me, that’s it. There’s no turning back, you understand? We’re outta here. And there’s no telling where we could end up because I don’t know where we’re going, but I know this much: We’re never coming back. So, maybe you should think about it. Maybe going with me isn’t the right thing for you. And don’t let emotions guide you. I have to do this, and while I will miss you, I still have to handle my business. You never know—one day, once the smoke is clear and the dust particles are blown away, I might be back.”
“Angel, please stop talking crazy. You can’t leave me here. Bitch, I don’t care where the fuck we at as long as we’re together,” said Kimberly, grabbing a suitcase, headed for the complete unknown but feeling one step closer to Dutch.
MIA
Newark, New Jersey
Delores stood speechless after listening to a message a woman by the name of Shirley Green had left on her answering machine. She had heard the phone ring but had refused to pick it up and decided to let the machine get it. Nurse Green said that she had a patient by the name of Bernard James, Sr., asking for her. It can’t be, not after all these years. I thought he died in the war. If he’s alive, why didn’t he ever come back? Too many years, so much time, but her heart was still the same. The day he left was the day she watched love walk away and never return. After all these years, he’s here?
She had to see for herself if it was him or some kind of mistake. She put her jacket on, grabbed her purse, and locked the door. She rushed down the steps and made her way to the bus stop, taking a seat on the wooden bench. She couldn’t help but think of the first day she laid eyes on him. It was the summer of 1967 and her block was having its annual block party on a fine and sunny day.
“We ran out of hot dogs, sorry, Delores.”
“You just told me to come back in ten minutes and they would be ready.”
“Sorry, baby. They ate ’em already. You move too slow, Delores.”
That’s when she saw him, standing next to the grill waiting for the next round of hot dogs. He was tall and handsome, looking like Billy Dee Williams’s brother. And the way he watched her was like a man starving for a woman. The only other thing she noticed about him was that he was a soldier wearing a green army uniform. The last time she had seen a soldier was when they invaded the neighborhood back in 1967 killing everybody who was outside rioting. Oh, she knew those uniform colors well. She saw firsthand how treacherous they were with her own two eyes. She remembered the tanks rolling down the street, soldiers with automatic weapons shooting at men and women caught rioting. That’s why her first impulse was to get away from him. How the hell can he even wear that damn uniform after what this government has done to us?
Delores witnessed tanks of the National Guard rumble down the middle of the streets surrounded by soldiers carrying automatic weapons. The soldiers were shooting and locking up everyone they could. That’s why Bernard initially drew her scorn instead of her interest.
So while she looked at him with disgust in her eyes, he looked at Delores in amazement. To him, she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. He’d been around the world and back but hadn’t found anyone that caught his eye the way she did. He knew he couldn’t just stand there and let her walk away and not say anything to her.
Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On?” began to boom out of the DJ’s speakers, and he knew right then he had to make his move, before somebody else did. He walked over to her.
“Hey there, mama, I say, what is really going on?” Bernard said, while Delores had her back to him.
Delores turned around and looked him up and down with feigned indifference—feigned because despite his uniform, he was fine. Lord have mercy.
“Why? You gonna arrest me or somethin’?” Delores asked with attitude.
Bernard smiled, showing off his pretty whites as he laughed. Delores was all of a sudden turned on by his voice.
“I might, if I can’t get the next dance,” he replied.
Right then, Delores’s favorite song, “Victim” by Candi Staton, came on. She knew she wanted to groove to it with him, but instead, she folded her arms across her chest and looked away.
“I don’t like this song.”
“Come on, sugar. You expect me to believe that when your body is sayin’ something else?” he said as he watched her move to the beat.
Delores smiled, letting him know he was right.
“You know, I’ve been around the world twice and had every flavor there is, but ain’t nothing like you ever come ’cross my plate.”
She looked him up and down again, but the truth was he had her open, just like that, and her heart had already been softened by his sleek charm. She knew she was being gamed, ’cause she was the queen of game. Yet still, she liked it. She then smiled, appeased to know she was being judged by worldwide standards.
“Ah, she smiles. So, now, can I have your name?” Bernard smiled, knowing he was in there.
“No,” Delores stated simply.
“No?” he questioned her back, wondering who she thought she was talking to.
“No, but you can have this dance,” she said, looking into his eyes.
He grabbed her hand and led her to the middle of the street, where everybody was getting their groove on. Song after song, they moved as if they were dancing on clouds in the sky to a rhythm of one heartbeat. For thirty days and thirty nights they danced the same beat, making passionate love to each other as if neither had a care in the world. Then on the thirty-first day, like a ticking clock, she walked into the room as he was looking out the window on what seemed like one of the rainiest days of the year.
“Baby, you okay?” Delores couldn’t help but be worried by the expression on his face.
“If there was anything I didn’t plan on for this leave, it was to meet someone like you.”
“Leave?” What does he mean by leave?
“Leave days. My tour of duty ended and after that you get a thirty-day leave. Most people don’t call it a leave, but I do.”
Delores couldn’t speak. Her mind spun like a top set loose, whirling and whirling around and around.
He can’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. How could he do this to me? I thought he loved me. These were her thoughts as he walked over to her.
“I—I… I know it’s hard to hear, ’cause this is hard for me to say,” he said with tears in his eyes and a pained look on his face, as if his world was more torn than hers. “And I know it’ll be even harder to do, but you see, sugar, it’s something I gotta do.” He tried to explain to her his mission, where he was at as a man in this world. And even though she didn’t want to, Delores understood his reasoning. She knew deep inside that he wasn’t telling her he was leaving, he was asking her to let him go, and she couldn’t get in the way of his doing what was in his heart to do.
Her last words to him were, “I love you,” as they parted ways at the train terminal. That was the last she ever heard or saw of him. He never wrote and he never came back. Three weeks later, she missed her period and found out she was pregnant. She never had the chance to tell him. Nine months later, she had the baby, a boy, and named him after his father, Bernard James, Jr., but the world would know him as Dutch.
Delores arrived at the VA hospital thirty minutes after the call f
rom Nurse Shirley. She went to the reception desk and was handed a visitor tag and given the room number. She peeked in. Bernard was lying still, his eyes closed, asleep.
“Are you Ms. Murphy? Hi, I’m Nurse Green,” the nurse said, smiling at Delores. “He’s asleep now, but he comes and goes. If you’d like I can wake him and let him know you’re here.”
“No, no, let him sleep. I can wait,” Delores said as she walked into the room and took a seat by the bed.
“Let me get you a fresh container of water and some ice chips,” said Nurse Green, hurrying out of the room to fetch everything.
Delores sat by the bed looking at the man whom she had wished for all her life. She touched his hand, her fingers needling their way between his, and she squeezed his hand tightly as he opened his eyes and looked at her.
“Delores.” He smiled.
“Yes, Bernard, I’m here,” Delores spoke softly, reassuring him with comfort. “Go on and rest. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said, looking into his eyes, wanting to know why he never came back for her.
“They done caught me, Delores. You got to get me out of here,” he said, now worried half to death.
“Bernard, ain’t nobody caught you. You are in the hospital. Don’t worry. I won’t let nothing happen to you.”
“You gonna get us out of here?” he asked as if it was mission impossible.
“Of course. Don’t worry about that. You just get your rest.” Delores smiled, figuring he was suffering from dementia.
“Delores.”
“Yes, Bernard.”
“I missed you in my life… I missed you in my life,” he repeated, wishing he had one last chance to do his life over again.
“I missed you, too.”
She fell asleep in the chair next to his bed awakening to deafening screams.
