The Ghost of Blue Ivy

by Parker Paige

  The streets were covered with melted snow, and the wind was brisk. Blue Ivy stood on the corner of Lake and LaSalle, in dire need of a taxi. A cringing chill from the brutal gusts of wind hammered against her, but was too impatient to button her coat or slip on her gloves. Finally, in the back of the Yellow taxi, she sat, her eyes glued to the window. She relived the events that transpired that evening, and she didn’t like it. She obtained what she wanted, experienced her life the way her sister did, and almost completed an affair in the men’s room. So, why did she feel so awful?

  The fun was ending, and she no longer enjoyed the person she had become. She wasn’t sure if it was because Bruce rejected her, or if it was because she was never truly happy in her sister’s skin in the first place.

  How would she ever be able to face Camina after what happened? Surely there would be no end to the animosity in the office now.

  Blue Ivy fumbled with the locks to her apartment door, her hands unable to remain still long enough to insert the key. Once inside, she clicked on the hall light. She was unable to pinpoint her disarray of emotions.

  Was it regret?

  Was it disgrace?

  Or was it humiliation?

  Perhaps, it was all of the above.

  She stood by the door and did not move for several minutes. How could she have done what she did, behaved like a bargain basement hussy, half dressed with a man that cared nothing about her, and of all the appalling places, the men’s room. The shields of reality came colliding in.

  Was this what her life had been diminished to?

  Getting even and having fun?

  No longer was she the nice person she once used to be, the person Lee fell in love with. Her mind raced through bits and pieces of her past, toppled with a large dose of enlightenment.

  Lee, her doctor and many others had all warned her, but she was too hypnotized to listen. Her transformation felt so right at the time, but not now. She was so unhappy and disappointed with herself. All she wanted was for things to return to the way they were before.

  She stood immobilized with her back against the door, her head back. Still wearing her coat, she was in deep thought. The startling ring of the phone caused her to jump. Somehow the ring sounded much louder than ever before. She never thought she would ever be afraid to answer her own phone, but she was. She stared at the phone for several seconds, trying to decide if she should answer, then let voicemail pick up.

  Standing at the kitchen counter, she couldn’t pour herself a drink fast enough. She tried her best to make sense of what happened and calm her nerves. The worst thing that could happen would be that she lost her job and that she and Camina would never speak again.

  If that was the worst scenario, why was she such a wreck?

  So much she wanted to write it off as just another adventurous experience, but in her heart and in her head, it was much more than that.

  A lot more had transpired.

  It was shame in all of its glory from where she stood, and all she could think about was how she could make it right.

  A long night awaited her.

  Trying to fall asleep proved a true challenge and an even greater challenge to silence the taunting thoughts that played over and over in her head. It was embarrassment at its finest.

  How could she suffer so much embarrassment even after the fact? Reoccurring disturbing visions of herself plagued her mind. All she remembered was sitting on Bruce’s lap in the men’s room, and the thoughts caused her stomach to churn. All through the night, she tossed and turned until she could toss and turn no more. She was unable to erase Bruce’s face from her mind. Finally after wasting most of the night twitching and switching, she ended up wrapped in her red and white polka-dot comforter.

  On the floor.

  Sound asleep.

  At six-thirty the next morning, Blue Ivy awakened, exhausted, to her buzzing alarm clock. She managed to only secure a few hours of sleep and her body felt it. With her head throbbing, she mustered up the strength to climb out of bed and make her way into the bathroom.

  She stood in front of the mirror, looking at her looping curls sagging over her head. Before she stepped into the shower, she wolfed down four aspirin, hoping her head would stop pounding long enough for her not to accidentally slip and fall.

  Her immediate thought was to call off work, the norm for her these days, but she couldn’t. Not this time. She needed to show up for work if only to make sure her job still existed. Most of all, she needed to face the aftermath of her actions. After weeks of coming in late and leaving early, most of her luxuries were used up. As lenient as her boss, Lillian may have been, if word spread about her performance in the men’s room, that would be it for her, red hair and all.

  It was time to face the drama even if she didn’t want to.

  Blue Ivy stepped from the shower and didn’t have the desire to apply a stitch of makeup to her face. She lacked that kick-ass attitude that transported her to this place of humiliation and disgrace.

  How she referred to herself as Blue caused her to spit in the sink. That was not who she was, something so many people tried to tell her, but rebelliously and foolishly, she refused to heed.

  Her eyes scanned down to the butterfly tattoo on her breast, bringing back memories of all that she had done. She no longer admired the way that her looping red hair hung at her shoulders, and she pulled it all back into a ponytail, the way she used to wear it. This simple look provided her with a sense of sanity, which was almost how she felt─slightly sane but very simple.

  The forty-fourth floor.

  Blue Ivy stepped off the elevator, and to her dismay, saw the mass of officials. It was like a weekend convention as police officers swarmed the office. Detectives questioned everybody while employees gossiped with one another.

  Down the corridor, through a mob of people, Blue Ivy saw Camina Givens, speaking with a detective as if she were the spokesperson for the firm.

  As Blue Ivy approached the corridor, she saw Camina remove the jacket of her black and gold, shoulder-padded designer suit jacket, as if to show off her ruffled blouse to the detective who stood before her. Unexpectedly, Camina turned and her eyes met with Blue Ivy, and for that brief moment, Blue Ivy witnessed a fallen smile on Camina’s perfectly structured face and immediately, Blue Ivy turned away.

  The biggest crowd seemed to have settled in the reception area, and Blue Ivy wanted to stay clear of it.

  Down the congested corridor, Blue Ivy headed towards the spiral stairs, which led to the lunchroom. She needed to find out where the excitement stemmed from and most importantly, the who of the body bag removed by the police.

  Up the spiral stairs, Blue Ivy accosted Rollie fast. After twelve years with the firm, he knew everyone and everything. Rollie was sure to give her the skinny of it all.

  “What happened?” Blue Ivy asked him.

  “Don’t you know? Bruce Colby was murdered last night in the men’s room.”

  Blue Ivy’s heart could have stopped. “Murdered?”

  Rollie displayed a disturbing stare. “Don’t look so surprised, Blue Ivy. I saw you coming from the men’s room last night, or at least I thought it was you,” Rollie paused. “It looked like you.”

  Blue Ivy stared past Rollie into space. Already he suspected her, which meant she was in big trouble.

  “Blue Ivy, did you hear me?”

  She slipped out of her momentary trance, and collected her worries. “Did you say anything to the police?”

  “I answered their questions.”

  Blue Ivy stared down at the floor, and tried to give the impression of indifference. “What did you tell them?”

  “I told them I saw a red-haired woman coming from the men’s room last night.”

  “Did you tell them it was me?”

  “No.”

  Relief swept over Blue Ivy’s face as Rollie continued. “I told them it could have been you. Or Laura. Or Camina. They’re going to want to talk to you. All three of you.
”

  Blue Ivy turned her attention away from him, trying to figure out what to do. After a long silence, she abruptly made a U-turn away from Rollie and headed down the stairs like a woman with a purpose.

  “Where are you going?” Rollie called out to her.

  Blue Ivy didn’t look back as she continued towards the elevators and through the crowd. Though Rollie continued to call her name, she purposely ignored him. Finally, she reached the bank of elevators in a fluster. More concerned with her surroundings, she accidentally buttoned her coat incorrectly. What she wanted to do was sweep off to the ladies’ room and guzzle a taste of Chardonnay from her travel mug, but there was no time. Only seconds passed before the elevator arrived, but it felt like forever.

  Camina had nothing to hide or so she believed. With Blue Ivy and Laura unavailable, she was the first to be questioned by the detectives and glad about it. As soon as possible, she wanted to clear her name with the hope of narrowing the number of suspects to one.

  In the chilly conference room, she patiently awaited Detectives Uhler and Lane. She anticipated them bursting through the door with a slew of unnecessary questions, most of which she had already answered. And all because she just happened to be one of three redheads in the firm.

  Although she had good reason to harm the late Bruce Colby, she was not the one with the identity problem. She hadn’t behaved like a slut, half-naked in the men’s room like someone else she knew.

  Namely, Blue Ivy.

  She shared no responsibility for his death, nor did she feel any remorse. Still, she was on the list to be questioned and there was no way out of it. Determined not to let this whole interrogation business smolder her, she scooted her chair up against the long table, straightened her jacket and slipped out of her three-inch heels. She forced herself to relax. The sooner she answered their questions, the sooner the detectives could move in on the true culprit.

  The door opened and Detectives Uhler and Lane moved towards her. Detective Uhler appeared to be the one in charge. He wore wire-framed glasses, and his grey sideburns matched his grey wrinkled suit. He possessed a soft look with a little extra weight here and there on his thick frame. Right behind Detective Uhler, Detective Lane closed the conference room door, then planted himself in the seat across from Camina. He wore black bifocals, which did not complement his stylish leather jacket.

  Detective Uhler pulled out his tiny note pad and scribbled something down, probably something along the lines of: Suspect No. 1. From the corner of Camina’s eye, she studied Detective Lane as he studied her.

  “Do you know why anyone would have wanted to kill Bruce Colby?” Detective Uhler asked Camina.

  Camina hesitated for a moment, then raised her shoulders.

  “Is that a yes or a no?” Detective Lane asked.

  “I don’t know. Why don’t you talk to Blue Ivy? She’s the one with the identity problem.”

  The detectives exchanged quick glimpses at each other as if secretly communicating.

  Detective Uhler seated himself across from Camina and after a moment asked, “What do you mean identity problem?”

  “Just what I said. She doesn’t know who she is.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “In the last three weeks, she did a complete makeover of herself, colored her hair, and did a complete revamp of her wardrobe in the hopes of becoming more like me. And right about now, she’s capable of almost anything.”

  “Like murder?” Detective Lane asked.

  “Anything. That’s who you should be questioning right now. Not me.”

  Detective Uhler gave Camina a firm stare, pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and cleaned his glasses. “Ms. Givens, all of that information about Ms. Rose is very interesting, and we appreciate you sharing it with us, but let me put it to you this way.”

  Camina’s eyes vacillated between Detectives Uhler and Lane while Detective Uhler continued. “A witness reported seeing a woman about your height and build, with red hair, coming from the men’s room right around the time Bruce Colby was strangled.”

  “And?”

  “You’re tall, have red hair, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but I’m not the only one.”

  Detective Uhler pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Ms. Givens, we are well aware of the other two redheads on staff here.”

  “Well, why don’t you talk to them?”

  “We plan to,” Detective Lane stated.

  “Does that mean I can leave?”

  Detective Uhler ignored her question and continued. “Did you see Bruce Colby yesterday?”

  “Are you going to ask Blue Ivy these same questions?”

  “Don’t worry, she’ll have her turn,” Detective Lane said as he stood up.

  “And what about Laura?” Camina asked.

  “She called in sick this morning, but we’ll talk to her too.” Detective Uhler paused. “Now,” Detective Uhler said. “Once again, did you see Bruce Colby yesterday?”

  “Of course I saw him. I work for him.”

  Detective Lane interrupted. “You mean you used to work for him.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” she said.

  Detective Lane continued. “Did you see him last night after hours?”

  “I saw him yesterday before I left.”

  “Before you left for where?”

  “Before I left for my doctor’s appointment.”

  “What time was that?” Detective Uhler asked.

  “About four forty-five, five o’clock.”

  “And that’s all? You never saw him anymore after that?” Detective Uhler asked.

  “That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”

  Detective Lane stepped towards Camina. “Ms. Givens, were you having an affair with Bruce Colby?”

  “No.”

  “No?” Detective Lane asked, doubtfully.

  “No. Do you want me to break it down for you? No. Bruce was married. I may have had a drink with him, but I have no interest in married men.”

  Blue Ivy’s coat was nearly off by the time she reached the inside of her apartment. She trampled through the litter of Macy’s shopping bags, which she never seemed to throw away. She swung her shoes from her feet, unbuttoned her blouse and made her way towards the bathroom. Off with her skirt, blouse and then her pantyhose.

  She was wearing only her lace panties and bra when she bent down to her bathroom cabinet and yanked out everything that she could secure with her hands.

  Laundry detergent.

  Bleach.

  Bathroom cleanser.

  Glass cleaner.

  Bubble bath.

  Tampons.

  Soap.

  Finally, all the way in the back of the cabinet, she found what she was after─A box of dark brown hair color.

  She refused to be caught up in a nasty investigation, lumped together with two other redhead suspects. After all, red wasn’t even her natural color. Though dying her hair at this time was probably not a sensible move, it needed to be done.

  Her blushing red hair symbolized transformation, discord and regret. And she wanted out. She could no longer be the person she so much wanted to be just a few weeks earlier, the person who fell under the spell of excitement and adventure.

  It was worth a concentrated effort to try and make things right again. And ridding herself of the red hair was just the beginning. More changes were to follow.

  Blue Ivy massaged the dark brown hair color into her hair fast. Her heart pounded as the brown hair color penetrated her curls, knowing that soon her hair would be back to its natural brown color. She liked to think that solving her problem was as simple as coloring her hair, but she knew differently. She was still a suspect, red hair or not.

  Episode 14

  DETECTIVES UHLER AND LANE WERE in the midst of drilling Camina about the nature of her relationship with the late Bruce Colby when a uniformed police officer entered. “Detective Uhler, I need to speak with you outside.”

  “Excuse me,”
Detective Uhler said to Camina.

  When Detective Uhler stepped outside the door, Camina’s eyes met with Detective Lane. He was watching her and she was watching him. With the door ajar, Camina could hear bits and pieces of Detective Uhler’s conversation with the uniformed police officer. Soon Detective Lane stepped over to the door, closed it as if he noticed Camina’s inclination to listen in.

  Minutes later, Detective Uhler returned to the conference room, sat down next to Camina and before he could say anything, Camina asked, “What was that all about?”

  “We pulled a copy of the sign-in sheet from security.”

  “And?”

  Detective Uhler referred to his notes in hand. “You said you left the office at about 4:45. Is that right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well. According to the sign-in sheet, you came back and signed in at six o’clock.” Detective Uhler moved his glasses upon his nose. “But there’s no record of you signing out. How do you explain that?”

  His question stumped her and frazzled her nerves, causing her to swallow hard. She would have to explain after collecting her thoughts.

  “We’re waiting,” Detective Lane stated.

  “I did come back,” Camina said. “But only to get my purse.”

  “And then what?” Detective Lane asked.

  “Then nothing. I grabbed my purse and left and I didn’t sign out because when I was leaving, the security guard had stepped away, and I was in a hurry.”

  “When you came back, did anyone see you?” Detective Lane asked.

  Before Camina could answer, Detective Uhler interrupted and rephrased the question. “Did you see anyone?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?” Detective Lane asked. “I mean you can think about it if you want to. Maybe you forgot.”

  “I ought to be able to remember if I saw anyone or not.”

  “Well, you forgot that you came back to get your purse,” Detective Lane said.

  “That was different.”

  “Whatever you say, Ms. Givens,” Detective Lane said.