Awake for almost an hour now, Nina could barely move. Her body ached, but nothing could surpass the ache in her heart. Tears stung her eyes as she tried to comprehend what had happened. She couldn’t believe what the doctor told her. But the pain she felt at his cruel words was common to what she’d felt the day her first baby’s life had been sucked out of her body.
“You can lay here for a little while, dear. Don’t worry about getting up until you feel better.”
Nina wanted to ask the nurse how long does feeling better take? When do you get over killing someone you were supposed to protect?
Tears of regret and anger trickled down her face as she clutched her empty stomach. How had she allowed herself to be talked into aborting her baby?
She was no better than her mother. But, at least her mother brought her into this world before discarding her. Maybe she was worse than the woman who left her on the doorsteps of Children’s Services and never looked back.
A scream escaped from the curtain-divided room Nina had just left. What’s wrong with these people? Don’t they take time to clean up the blood from the previous patient? Or do they just let it dry on their hands. She wanted to yank those curtains open, take that woman’s legs off those stir-ups, and tell her to run. Get out before it’s too late. Before they suck your baby out of you. And, and ...
Her hand covered her mouth as sobs of regret escaped. What had her baby been? Should she have bought pink ribbons or blue shirts with sail boats on them? She’d never know. Life had been just that cruel.
A knock on her door jerked Nina from sorrows past. Wiping her eyes she turned and greeted Elizabeth.
“Hey. Dr. Hamilton said you wanted to see me.”
Nina tried to smile at her friend. She really did. But too many cracks in the heart can break a smile. Crying was easier. So that’s what she did.
Elizabeth rushed over to the bed and hugged her. “Ah, Nina. It’s going to be all right.”
Tightly holding Elizabeth’s arm, Nina sobbed. “They won’t let me see my son.”
“You can’t get up, Nina. You’ll see Donavan soon enough.”
Nina’s face contorted. “Just tell me the truth. Is he dead?”
Elizabeth hugged her friend just a little tighter. Mindful of the surgery she’d just undergone, but mindful of the pain she was feeling. “He’s hanging in there. He’ll make it, Nina. You’ll see.”
“It’s bad though, isn’t it?”
Elizabeth stood up straight and looked her friend in the eye. “I’m not going to lie to you. You’re right. Donavan was hurt pretty bad.” She hung her head and let out a gust of hot air. “He’s in a coma, Nina.”
Wallowing from side to side, she felt the pain of each movement, but didn’t care. “Oh, God. I can’t lose him too. Not my son, Lord. Not this son.”
Elizabeth stood by Nina’s bed. She stroked her hair but said nothing. Sometimes words get lost in grief. Sometimes comfort comes not in the words said, but in being there.
“What am I going to do? What am I going to do?” Back and forth, Nina turned, asking the same question over and over again.
Humming, Elizabeth stroked her friend’s hair. Tears rolled back and mingled with the sweat in Nina’s hair. Nina kept asking the same question.
Finally, as an answer, Elizabeth sang: “Though the storms keep on raging in my life, and sometimes it’s hard to tell the night from day. Still this hope that lies within is reassured. If I keep my eyes upon the distant shore, I know He’ll lead me safely to that special place He has prepared.”
“What was God thinking, Elizabeth? How could this have happened to us?”
“And, if the storms don’t cease. And if the winds keep on blowing in my life, my soul has been anchored in the Lord.”
It had been a hard lesson, but Elizabeth had learned how to anchor her soul in the Lord. When things were going well, and even when everything went wrong, she would stand for Jesus. And now she would stand in the gap for her friend.
Nina calmed a little. Stopped rocking and listened. Elizabeth sang a couple more verses. Nina’s eyes became heavy. She pulled the cover up to her chin and snuggled.
Charles appeared at the door with lilies in his hand. He had this I’m-so-into-you look on his face, as he gazed at his love. Elizabeth connected with him for the first time since meeting him. Felt his pain. She leaned over and whispered to Nina, “Charles is here. Do you want me to leave the two of you alone?”
Groggily, Nina told her, “No. Don’t want to see Charles. The doctor said I can’t have anymore children. Don’t know how to tell Charles.”
Charles heard Nina’s declaration. The flowers in his hand fell to the floor. He turned and walked away from Nina’s room.
24
Keith had a decision to make. He could strap up and follow his boy, or he could do what he knew was right. He hated snitches, but Isaac was about to destroy himself with some of that eye-for-an-eye, tooth-for-a-tooth stuff. He and Isaac had come too far to let it end on death row like this. Keith caught a cab back to the hospital, hoping that Charles was still there.
He was there all right; in the bathroom crying like somebody had beat him up on the play ground and stole his lunch money. “What’s wrong,” Keith asked when he saw the assistant DA in such a state.
Charles leaned against the bathroom wall. “My mama is going to be so disappointed. How am I going to explain this to her?”
Confusion was set on Keith’s face. “Explain what? Man, what are you talking about?”
Charles pointed a daggered finger toward the door. “That animal destroyed my dreams. He took everything away from me.”
“Nina is alive, man. What are you talking about?”
Charles bent over and dried his eyes with the back of his hand. “She can’t have kids. The doctor confirmed it.”
Dang. Keith wanted to cry himself. How could someone as sweet as Nina, as loving and kind hearted as she, be destroyed like this?
The bathroom door creaked open. Keith and Charles yelled, “Get out,” in unison.
As the door closed back, Keith slid to the ground, crushing his hand to his mouth. If the truth was told, he had loved Nina for almost as long as Isaac had. Actually, he’d fallen in love with Nina when Isaac was still playing around, not knowing what was good for him. But, as far as Keith was concerned, Nina had always belonged to his best friend. That made her off limits to him. So, he’d put his feelings in check and tried to move on with life. That didn’t stop him from hurting for her.
Get yourself together. He wiped his ocean-ous eyes and turned to Charles. “We’ve got to do something about Mickey. He’s got to pay for what he’s done.”
Pacing the length of the bathroom, Charles roared, “I’d like to kill him.”
“Unless I get your help, he will definitely be dead within the hour.”
Charles turned to Keith. “What are you talking about?” He looked around, as if just noticing something. “Where’s Isaac?”
Keith stood. “Look, I’m going to need your help. I think we can get Mickey, but I need you to take off your DA hat for a minute. Can you do that?”
“If it will help put this guy away, you name it. I’m there.”
Shots fired on the West Side of Dayton was like a well-manicured lawn in the suburbs—constant. So when Isaac blasted three shots into the crack house door on Stewart Street before kicking it in, the news cameras did not start rolling.
“Where’s he at?” Isaac asked as he grabbed the first person unlucky enough to get close to him.
Crack fumes penetrated the air. The place smelled like sewage and waste. Looked like one of those houses the police busted into that had clothes and trash mixed together on the floor. Like clothes hangers and trash bags were a luxury trifflin’ people couldn’t afford. Isaac twisted his nose as he smelled first, then saw dog poop on the dirty floor.
“Who? Who you looking for?” a man with dreadlocks asked.
Isaac shoved his gun in the thick bushes
of the man’s locks. Men and women moved around them like zombies. Isaac ignored them. Glaring at his victim, he left no doubt what his intentions were. “Mickey, fool. Now start talking.”
“Mickey left here about an hour ago. He’s on Cincinnati Street, man. Come on, put the gun down.”
Isaac backed out the door, gun still trained on Dreddy’s head. “If you see him before I do, tell him to go kiss his kids goodnight.”
Keith kept blowing up Isaac’s cell phone as he drove toward his destination. Isaac started to turn the ringer off on Keith’s third try, but thought better of it. What if something’s gone wrong? What if Donavan or Nina got worse since he left the hospital? Reluctantly, he answered the phone. “What?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m on my way to meet Mickey. That punk wasn’t on Lexington or Stewart, but he’s in his house on Cincinnati Street. I’m sure of it.”
“I’ll meet you there,” Keith told him.
Sarcastically, Isaac asked, “Is the prayer meeting over? You ready to do something other than fold your hands and bow your head?”
“Isaac, wait on me. There is a better way to handle this. Listen to what God is speaking to your heart.”
Shaking his head, Isaac told his friend, “The devil wants me back in, Keith. I’ve got to play this one out.”
“He hung up!” Slamming the phone against the dashboard, Keith yelled, “Dear God, don’t let this happen.”
“Hand me that phone,” Charles told Keith.
With a look of skepticism on his face, Keith asked, “Who are you calling?”
“The police. Who do you think?”
Wildly, Keith shook his head. “Oh, no, uh-uh. You told me you would help Isaac, not put him back in prison.”
“Look, can you stop that man from doing exactly what he pleases?”
Nobody could stop Isaac once his mind was made up. Keith didn’t bother to share that bit of truth.
“Just what I thought. And I’m definitely not going to try to stop him, not with that gun in his hand.” Charles reached out for the phone again. “Our best bet is to get the police over there and try to defuse the situation before your maniac kills my maniac.”
25
Nina was jolted out of her sleep by a startling revelation. “Oh, my God!” she screamed.
Elizabeth jumped. She had been dozing in the seat next to Nina’s bed. “W—what’s wrong?”
Nina held onto the bed rails. “Did anybody call Isaac?”
Elizabeth sat back down and exhaled. “Girl, you had me scared for a moment. Yeah, Isaac was here. He spent the night in Donavan’s room.”
Nina laid there for a moment and calmed herself. She squeezed her friend’s hand. “Thanks for being here with me.”
“Where else would I be at a time like this?”
“Well, thanks anyway.” Nina tried to smile at her friend, but her heart wasn’t in it.
“Did Kenneth come with you?”
“He wanted to, but one of us had to stay with the girls. You know I’ve got two teenagers on my hands now.”
Laughing, Nina smacked Elizabeth’s hand. “Leave my girls alone. They are perfect angels. How are Erin and Danae doing, anyway?”
“Erin is beside herself. You know she’s going to be a senior in high school next term.” Putting her feet in the chair, Elizabeth sat Indian style. “Danae is still constantly studying and getting good grades. She gets that from Kenneth.”
“Girl, they grow up too fast, don’t they?”
“Tell me about it. The more I watch them grow, the more I wish I could have another ...”
Nina turned her face toward the wall, away from her friend.
Elizabeth put her hand up to her mouth. “Nina, I’m so sorry. I—I didn’t mean—”
Holding up her hand, Nina told Elizabeth, “Don’t worry about it.”
Silence kept them company as Nina continued to stare at the wall.
Breaking the silence, Elizabeth asked, “Can I get you anything?”
Nina turned back toward her friend and asked, “Can you ask Isaac to come in here? I want to know how Donavan is doing.”
“Isaac’s not here.”
“I thought you said he was with Donavan.”
“That was earlier.”
Alarm bells were ringing throughout her system. With trepidation, Nina asked, “Where is Isaac, Elizabeth?”
“I’m not sure. Some guy came to see him this morning. I think he was a friend of Donavan’s.”
Prodding her friend to continue, Nina asked, “What happened when the guy left?”
“He didn’t leave. His name is Mark Smith. He’s still sitting in the waiting room with everybody else. He mumbled something about feeling responsible for Donavan and some boy named JC.”
“What happened to JC?”
Elizabeth shook her head. Her eyes were downcast. “He got killed the same night you and Donavan were shot.”
Nina knuckled down on the bedrails. “Good Lord. I knew Donavan and JC were up to something.” She turned back to Elizabeth. “Who’s in the waiting room?”
“Pastor McKinley, my brother and his wife, Charles ...” Snapping her fingers, Elizabeth told her, “That’s right, Charles left with Keith.”
“Charles left with Keith?”
“Yeah, first Keith left with Isaac, then Keith came back by himself. Then Charles left with Keith.”
Nina was getting a headache. “When did Isaac leave?”
“I already told you—after he talked with Mark.”
Tears rolled down Nina’s face as she closed her eyes and listened to her gut tell her that something was very wrong. But this time, her woman’s intuition wasn’t telling on her son, but his father. “Elizabeth, will you pray with me?”
Released for battle, Davison charged forward. He had a legion of angels with him. He’d gone into battle with many of these angels before. They were good at what they did, but sorrow accompanied him as he drew his sword. Casualties would come from this battle. All the forces of hell had conspired to get Isaac back on Satan’s side.
Davison wasn’t having it. This was his charge. Isaac wasn’t going to fall prey to the wicked one, even if he had to give his life to assure it.
Satan’s hellions approached them in mid-descent. Davison had a feeling that they wouldn’t get the cloud dust off their feet before the party got started. “Get ready. Here they come,” Davison said to his comrades.
The thunder clapped and lightening raged as the battle ensued.
When the heavenly and hellish swords clashed, the earthly system was jolted. Slithers of lightening flashed through the sky. Blow after thunderous blow, Davison cut his way through the masses of demons. His single-minded purpose was to get to Isaac. “Keep praying, saints. Keep praying!”
26
Mickey was drunk when Isaac walked in on him. So drunk that slapping him upside the head with his Glock was useless. Isaac did it anyway. The head trauma caused Mickey to vomit on the already nasty, dirty floor.
Good, Isaac thought. Some of the drunk probably oozed out of him when he threw up. Now he’ll be able to feel this kick.
“Urrrgggh!” Mickey screamed as Isaac kicked him in the back.
Isaac then sent a heavy handed blow to Mickey’s head.
“Ah, man, that hurt.” Mickey’s wobbly hand reached for his gun. Isaac ripped it out of his holster, and kicked him again.
Several kilos decorated the dilapidated dining room table. Back in the day, Isaac would have killed this low-life, took his stuff, and sold it himself. Hadn’t he just crawled back into his past? He might as well take that stash and get his grind on. He sure wasn’t going to have a church job to go back to after this, and a man’s gotta eat.
“I—Isaac, man, I’m sorry,” Mickey said with a pained expression on his face.
Reaching down, Isaac grabbed a fist full of Mickey’s shirt and pulled him up. “You messed with the wrong one, boy.”
Nervously, Mickey laughed. “Yo
u know how I am, man. I just get to trippin’sometimes.”
Trippin’? Was he crazy?
The answer to that stupid question was a resounding aboleet, aboleet, that’s a yes, folks.
Although crazy, Mickey was no punk. He wasn’t going out like a sucka, even if he was up against the great Isaac Walker. They tussled. Isaac dropped his gun. Mickey used that opportunity to swing.
With the way Isaac’s jaw shook, Mickey could have been a contender. “What you think about that?” Mickey asked while shuffling his feet like a boxer. “Yeah, I ain’t no easy win, nigga.” He swung on Isaac again and connected.
Isaac grabbed him by the throat and drove him against the wall.
Mickey’s breath whooshed from his body.
The wall buckled as Isaac slammed Mickey’s head into it again and again. When he released him to grab his Glock, Mickey crumpled to the floor holding his throat. “Man, you’re supposed to be a preacher.”
Isaac smiled sinisterly. “That’s why you’re getting a two-for-one special today. A man who can kill you and eulogize your miserable funeral.”
Isaac kicked Mickey in the face, then picked his gun off the floor and lifted it to Mickey’s head. “What do you want on your tombstone, Mickey?”
Blood dripped from his mouth, but that didn’t stop him from running it. “You tired of looking at yourself, Isaac? Is that why you want me dead?”
“You’re nothing like me.”
Mickey crawled on the floor like the animal he was. His gold teeth weren’t as sparkly with blood splattered on them. “I am what you made me. You taught me everything I know.” Mickey’s gun was in sight, he kept crawling toward it.
Shoot him. No need for conversation. What are you waiting on? Don’t you dare think about God. Just leave the Almighty-oh-so-busy-One out of this. All these thoughts ran through Isaac’s mind as Mickey reminded him of the man he used to be.
“I didn’t teach you to kill kids.”
Mickey’s laughter bounced off the walls. He picked up his gun and fired. The bullet missed Isaac by a mile. Mickey stood, more confident now. “That bad little nigga needs to die.”
Latter Rain Page 11
