by Ashley
It took three hours for C.J. to pull himself up. “He’s dead, isn’t he?” C.J. didn’t know why he was asking a question he already knew the answer to. Of course, Carter was dead. C.J. had felt the coldness of his skin. It was a cold that a living, breathing thing could not ever be. C.J. was glad that Carter had come back into his life. C.J. had been the one to hold him until he transitioned on, but he hated the way they had left things. His last conversation with his father had been a bad one, an argument where he had said things he didn’t mean. He never thought it would be the last words they would exchange and C.J. wished he had handled things differently.
“They’re saying a heart attack,” Estes confirmed.
C.J.’s fists were at the side of his head as he clenched his eyes shut at the revelation. Time was always something he had more of. It was what he was banking on when it came to his parents. All he had to do was wait for time to pass and God would put him and his parents in a place where they could reunite. Miamor would be released from prison in due time and his father would return home. All he had to do was be patient. That’s what he had told himself on nights when he missed them so badly that he couldn’t sleep. Now nothing would ever repair their fractured family because Carter was gone.
Estes sat next to him, knowing there wasn’t anything he could say to ease C.J.’s torment. He remembered exactly how it felt to lose someone so dear. There weren’t words to describe the anguish. He could see C.J.’s lip quivering as the boy tried his hardest to stifle the tears. He was trying to be strong, trying to maintain the hard front that he usually put on in front of Estes but holding it inside was damaging. This type of suffering would rot a man’s soul away. Estes knew because he had allowed himself to decay slowly over the years after the death of his beloved son Sammie. It was no way to live, especially for a young boy. C.J. hadn’t even begun to explore the depths of his heart. It couldn’t go without repair at this early age; it would stop him from ever adequately loving anyone again. The only people he had extended his heart to were his parents, his close family, and Estes, but C.J. had yet to know the tender tug of a woman’s devotion. He had yet to feel the butterflies and nervousness that loving a beautiful woman could bring. If C.J. stifled his loss now and bottled it up inside, it would damage him. He wouldn’t ever allow himself to open his heart again in fear of feeling this same devastating blow.
Estes was a man with an ice block around his heart, but he forced himself to pull C.J. into an embrace. The empathy he felt for C.J. made Estes uncomfortable but he didn’t let go because he knew that it was what C.J. needed. “You’re not alone, kid,” Estes said. “I got you. Let it out. You have to let some of that water out or you will drown in it. It will be okay.” His hug was firm, sturdy, supportive, and strong enough to hold up a breaking C.J.
C.J. sobbed, releasing years of detriment. He had felt so alone, so abandoned, but he always knew that one day his father would come back. Carter was godly to C.J. He could beat anything and anyone, and would, in order to return to his family. Death was the one thing that Carter couldn’t come back from. It was permanent and as C.J. cried he felt the magnitude of it all. Death was a part of life; it was a passage that everyone must take eventually. The prematurity of his father being taken away made him feel like he was dreaming. How would he become a man, with no father? Who would teach him about sex? Who would show him how to change a tire? Who would dissolve his worry when he finally became a father himself? His example of manhood was on a slab in the morgue and Estes was telling him that it would be okay. Nothing would ever be okay. Nothing would ever feel complete because the man from whom he came hadn’t finished his job of molding C.J. before God stripped him of the privilege.
He pulled back, clearing his throat as he swiped a hand over his face.
“Let’s go,” Estes said.
“Go where?” C.J. asked.
“Home,” Estes replied.
C.J. looked around, knowing that there was no point in staying here. Refusing to leave wouldn’t bring his father back. If he never saw the place again it would be fine with him. “I can’t fight here anymore, but I still have to fight,” C.J. said. He held up his fists in front of his face as he shook them with conviction. “Fighting is the only thing I’ve got.”
Estes nodded in understanding. “It’s fine. We’ll put you in a real ring with real fighters. No more street stuff. It’ll be good to give you something serious to focus on.”
Estes stood and extended his hand to C.J., then helped pull him from the ground. As they walked out, Estes threw an arm around C.J.’s shoulder and gave him a quick pat of reassurance. Their relationship was symbiotic. C.J. needed Estes, especially now that Carter was gone, but Estes was in dire need of C.J. as well. A fatherless child and a childless father. They filled a void in each other’s lives and they would for years to come.
CHAPTER 19
I felt every pain, until I felt nothing and then I saw the reaction to the way I left this earth. It’s fucked up the way death creeps up on you. In the most unexpected way I was ripped from everything and everyone I held dear. In front of my son, in the arms of my son, I was sucked back up into the womb of my creator. The same way that I was waiting to cradle my son as he was pushed out of the womb of the creator. The parallel between life and death, so apparent as my son ushered me into the light. It’s hard, knowing that I’m leaving him behind when I haven’t fully taught him how to survive in it. Seeing him cry, feeling his soul shake, but not being able to do anything except walk beside him along his journey. I hope he feels me there because I’ll never leave him. It’s a bruise to a man’s ego to see his son cry on the shoulder of another man. I should have been there. If I could have, I would have been there and now he will never know why I was away so long. Time didn’t permit me the favor of making up for my disappearance. There are certain things that a boy never heals from and I hope my death isn’t the thing that manifests trouble in C.J.’s life. The way I miss him, the way I miss his mother, is immeasurable. I’m comforted by the fact that she knew. Miamor knew exactly how deeply my love for her flowed. She was the key to parts of myself that were inaccessible before her. I hope she is able to remind C.J. of how much I cared and how hard I tried to be a man he would want to become one day. I didn’t have that. I didn’t know that feeling of admiration for a man greater than myself. Even without ever having one conversation with Carter Diamond, I somehow grew up to be just like him. I tried to make my mark on the world, tried to provide for my family, without doing much harm, but in some cases harm was necessary. I was a man who lived a flawed life for the perfect reasons: for them. If only I had the chance to do it all over again. I would hustle less and love them more, because at the end of it all the things were left behind. The money, the cars, the houses, even the power, all stayed on earth. They were possessions to be bought, sold, and traded. What God allowed me to take with me, what crossed over from the realm of the living, was love. The memories of those I cherish are like pieces of treasure in a heart-shaped chest and I now know the purpose of life was to fill that chest up … to fill my heart up. I want that for my son. I want that for my wife. I hope I get to witness that as I look down on them from above because I’ll be watching, closely. I’ll never be far. I know they will mourn my passing. I know my absence will make Miamor angry with God, but I’ll leave her heart up to Him because I know only He can change it. He knows how much I need her, here with me, in this beautiful oasis, so I’m confident that He will repair his relationship with her. I have no doubt about that. Miamor lacks the understanding that she will see me again, that much is guaranteed. Time doesn’t exist up here. So, when we are reunited it will feel like a separation never existed, but those decades that Miamor and C.J. have yet to live would feel long to them. Days will be hard. Loneliness will settle in and tears will fill endless nights. I pray that the bad days don’t last long for them because I’m still right there, not in flesh, but in spirit, and I always will be.
CHAPTER 20
&
nbsp; Death always seemed to be the thing to bring families back together. Weddings and funerals, Breeze thought. It was the only time black families got together and as Breeze stood over her brother’s body she wished like hell that it had been a wedding that had brought her back to town instead. Carter looked so peaceful that she would have thought he was simply sleeping if she didn’t know better.
She shook her head in disgrace. None of this made any sense. Carter was a man who had survived everything. Wars with Haitians, conflict with Mexican cartels, threats from Saudi princes … he had come out of all those circumstances unscathed. Or so they thought. The weight of all those things had cost him. No one knew how heavy the crown could be except for the king. Being the one to make life-and-death decisions, being everyone’s protector, being the oldest child is what had caused his heart to fail him. He simply carried too much and Breeze knew that the fracturing of their family had been the thing to break him.
Carter had come into her life so late that now she wondered what life would have been like if she had known him when she was a little girl. She felt like she had been robbed. He was the brother she loved the most, but had spent the least amount of time with. Breeze had the privilege to walk around Miami without worry because of Carter’s influence, because of Monroe’s influence, because of Mecca’s as well. All three of them were in the grave now. Prematurely, she was stripped of her entire family. She was the last of the Diamond children and the loneliness she felt being in the world without her siblings made silent tears escape her. It didn’t seem real. A heart attack? she thought, dismally. Not even a bullet to the chest could kill him but a heart attack did. She shook her head in utter disbelief.
Breeze thought of Zyir and was grateful for his memory loss. For the first time, it didn’t seem like such a bad thing. Losing Carter would have broken Zyir and Breeze would have never been able to put the pieces back together the same. Carter’s impact on everyone around him was so magnified, so intense, that his absence would change the fabric of their lives. His death wasn’t one that would be forgotten.
Time simply could not heal this wound. Breeze had tried to move on from Miami. She desperately wanted to leave it all behind. The only connection she hadn’t severed was the phone calls she accepted from Mo, but Carter’s death had brought her running home. Carter Diamond had left a strong legacy for his children. While being his seed was a gift, it was also a curse and an early invitation to the grave seemed to be one of them. She had attended one too many funerals in her lifetime and as she looked back to her daughter, who was being occupied by one of the funeral home’s workers, she promised herself she wouldn’t be next. She turned to the funeral director. “Nothing but the best for him. He was one of the good ones,” she said.
“Of course,” the man replied as he rolled the white sheet over Carter’s face.
Breeze rushed out of the room and scooped up her daughter before racing outside. She gulped in the fresh air as soon as she exited, trying to erase the stench of death from her nostrils.
She knew that she would have to be the one to tell Miamor and that was something she was not looking forward to. Over the years, they had developed a bond that was unbreakable, but Breeze was at a point in her life where she wanted to keep Miamor at a distance. It wasn’t personal. She wanted to keep the entire city of Miami and the past that came with it at bay. Miamor had played grim reaper for so long that death was attached to her. It was as natural as water or air for Miamor and Breeze couldn’t allow that type of energy to infect her life. Not anymore, not since motherhood. Breeze told herself that this would be the last time she allowed herself to come back home. After she buried Carter, no one would see or hear from her again. If Zyir could erase his memories and start anew, she could too, but first, she had to make it through the funeral of Carter Jones.
* * *
Miamor’s chest was weighed down by chains. It was heavy and the burden of the loss pulled at her, enticing her to crumble. She felt her legs shaking, withering in the height of her despair with every step she struggled to take. Nothing had ever hurt this bad. She wondered if others could see her pain. It felt like an ugly scar, one that caused gawkers to ridicule. It had to be the reason why all these inmates were staring at her as she made her way toward the exit. They could see it … the devastation … the heartbreak. She wore it like an accessory.
She was escorted by two guards, one on each arm as they walked her toward the light of the free world. Her shuffled steps made her feel as if she would fall as the chains at her feet tripped her up along the way and although she had worn the cuffs on her hands before, today they seemed to bite into her skin extra tightly. Miamor felt everything. On this cloudy, rainy, gloom-filled day, her emotions were magnified. She knew the sun wouldn’t shine for the occasion. She was surprised it had risen at all. Not even the flowers would bloom on such a tragic day. It had taken God seven days and seven nights to create the beauty of the earth and it had only taken one thing to destroy it all for her. She would never see awe in anything of this world. With the death of one man, everything stopped. Life. Significance. Love. Joy. Purpose. It all ceased to exist. Carter Jones, first-born son of Carter Diamond, was gone.
How did this happen? she thought. She was desperately hoping she had been misinformed. Perhaps it was Zyir who had died, or C.J. or Mo, or Breeze, or hell, just any-fucking-body except Carter Jones. Oh, she could feel the ache in her bones. It settled in deeply, penetrating her like the winter winds on a freezing day and all she could do was feel it. Miamor felt no shame that she was wishing death on all her loved ones because any one of their deaths would be easier to deal with than his. He had been the man to thaw her cold heart. He was life for Miamor and although Miamor knew there was a God, the only person she had ever worshipped was Carter.
Miamor had done so many bad things in her lifetime and she had waited for karma to circle back to fill her with regret. The prison sentence wasn’t severe enough. To a woman like Miamor it was simply a waiting game, but this … this death, this unexplainable, unfair, and unexpected loss was unfathomable. It was her karma. To love Carter and then to lose him was the most traumatic thing she had ever felt. Had there been someone to blame, to murder, to exact revenge upon, it would have made it easier. Every hustler has his day when the grim reaper sends a shooter at his door. If he had fallen victim to the game, Miamor could have understood, she would have been able to wrap her mind around the how of it all.
His heart just stopped beating. It just stopped working, she thought. How does that happen?
She had a million questions. The who, what, when, where, why, and hows of this death plagued her, but no one had the answers. It had simply been his time. Only it wasn’t his time. We didn’t get a lifetime together, I didn’t get to see his beard turn gray, or watch him raise our son. He was supposed to grow old, we were supposed to grow old together. Her thoughts were torture and her uncharacteristic tears fell as effortlessly as the rain from the sky on this ugly day.
Miamor couldn’t even appreciate the free air as she stepped outside because without Carter the entire world felt like prison. The only thing that would make her feel free is if God snatched the breath from her lungs and allowed her to make the journey with him into the afterlife. If she could, she would purchase that one-way ticket without hesitation. She would lay down her life for him. Never would she have taken these years behind bars if she had known he wouldn’t be there waiting for her at the end of it all. Miamor lowered her body inside the unmarked transport car and leaned her head against the window. God please, she thought. She didn’t know what she was praying for. Death was the one thing that couldn’t be undone. The way this had occurred felt like the cruelest joke.
When the car pulled up to the cemetery the pit in Miamor’s stomach filled with bile. She was sick, physically and mentally. Her emotions were all over the place. Miamor saw the casket sitting high over the plot of dirt that would serve as the final resting place for her only love. She wanted to throw hers
elf into the pit right along with him. The casket was pure gold and it shined. It was only fitting. Carter had gone through life as a king and the beautiful custom box was made just for him. There were only a few people in attendance. Carter wouldn’t have wanted to make a spectacle and she couldn’t help but wonder who had decided on the intimacy of the occasion. The details were supposed to be up to her. She knew him best. She was his queen, his wife. She should have been there for him to plan his memorial and cry while picking out flowers and the words that would forever be etched on his headstone.
Miamor bypassed Breeze, who stood holding the hand of a beauty of a little girl, tears staining both their cheeks. Miamor was almost sure that the little girl was only crying because of the uncontrollable sobs that left Breeze’s lips. Another woman was present, someone Miamor didn’t recognize, a stunning beauty who bore no tears but whose solemn expression told Miamor that she was saddened, but not grief-stricken, from losing Carter. It was like the woman was managing her pain, controlling how much she let show, and Miamor wondered how anyone could have such incredible restraint. She needed some of that restraint in this moment because with every step she took, sorrow added one more brick to her back. It wouldn’t be long before she was folded over, unable to carry it all. Her breakdown was inevitable. Her feet sank into the wet grass with every dreadful step and she wished God would just open the ground and swallow her whole. I just want to go with him, she thought.
She stood directly in front of the casket and lifted her shackled hands to touch the top. She recoiled, surprised how cold the metal was. She shook her head. “I need to see his face,” she whispered. “Open it.” She turned to the groundskeeper that stood off to the side at a respectable distance. He was like a vulture just waiting for the family to leave so that he could throw Carter in this ominous hole.
