by H. Q. Frost
What Breaks a Man? © 2016 by H.Q. Frost
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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"Guard!"
I hear the word screamed over and over but not before a blunt object penetrates the flesh below my ribs and is yanked toward my back, leaving a sizable gash. The pain is searing and quickly begins to drain the energy I had, but I don't stop fighting. Tracking down the person responsible is futile in this mass war that started between two inmates and rapidly grew.
A battalion cracks over the curve of my neck and shoulder and it drops me to my knees, but I don't let go of Rupert and he goes down with me. There's so much commotion and my vision is getting foggy. Wait… it's not fog. It's tear gas and as my lungs seize, the last thing I see is my only friend in this place, Rupe, holding his slashed neck.
3 DAYS
"Dominic. Focus on the question. Who was the initial altercation between? You seem to be the only person to witness the fight start."
The only genuine man in this hellhole was murdered and they want me to focus on questions. I woke in excruciating pain because inmates aren't treated with the same respect as victims outside the prison walls and they aren't given a full dose of pain pills. Fuck 'em. I don't need pills. I can get through this like I do everything else. Grit my teeth behind closed lips so no-one witnesses my weaknesses.
"Rupert and Amos." I look the warden in the eyes but she can't hold my gaze longer than three seconds.
"Did you hear words exchanged?"
"Nothing I want to repeat." I turn my head and clench my teeth as the pathetic pain pill begins to wear off.
"Dominic, we need your assistance. You're being considered for early release. This isn't worth protecting them over. You're the better man."
"Racial slurs, Ms. Pires. They slung racial slurs back and forth. That's the only reason I don't want to repeat it. Rupert told me everything, and he never once mentioned having a problem with Amos. I can't tell you with assurance that Amos started that fight, but it wouldn't be the first time he's started something with another inmate."
"Who had the weapons?"
"Amos for sure had something. He slit…" Clamping my bottom lip, I try to rid the image of Rupert's two kids from my mind. Those kids needed their father when he was released. "He slit Rupe's throat."
"And who attacked you?"
"No idea." I exhale heavy and rub my eyes. "It got out of control. You believe me, right?"
"About what?"
"My involvement."
"Yes, Dominic." She manages a smile but it's tired and sad and that worries me this will interfere with my request for appeal. "You should have never been here to begin with. Life's a bumpy road and it's up to you to smooth the bumps."
That right there is why I've put any trust I have left in Ms. Pires. She reminds me of a girl I fell in love with at seventeen. The girl that's been on my mind for the past seven years. The girl that taught me to be a smooth road, a good book, the man I want to be. I owe her something, and considering how the last contact I had with her seven years ago turned out, I think that something is to leave her the hell alone. But everyone deserves the chance to write the pages to their own book…
My mom hasn't looked me in the eye since I can remember. Her boyfriend, Tony, was more welcoming than her the day she picked me up. She hugged me like she didn't want to let go, but since I've been at their house, she hasn't said much to me. I can't say I blame her. I'm her ex-convict son. I let her down at the age of eighteen and she's been trying to maintain a relationship with me inside a prison for the past seven years.
She pops in the doorway to the room I'm temporarily staying in and her eyes stay focused on an empty dresser. "Dom, can I wash anything for you?"
"No, thanks. Can I help with anything? I feel like I need to be doing something around here. I won't be here long, just till I get a job."
"Don't worry about it, honey. Just stay out of trouble," she says before walking away.
My head shakes and I drop back to the bed, staring at the ceiling, somehow missing the ceiling to my old bedroom. Paint was chipping and it was cracked, much like the whole foundation of the house, but it was home. That home I was always trying to get away from. When I found out she sold the house, I had a mixture of feelings tearing through me. It was my childhood home. It was the last space I shared with my brother. It was shelter that held memories, more bad than good, but I miss it. I miss the time before I became this man. I've screwed up things in my past; there's only a handful of accomplishments I'm proud of, and now, trying to build a life on a refurbished slate doesn't hold much promise.
I've been out for six days and what I thought would be a liberating moment, has turned into learning how to adapt again. My mom isn't living in the same neighborhood, she's not around the poverty and corruption I'm used to. Since I walked through the door, I've felt as if I've needed to stay hidden. For her sake. To hide what I am and the possibility of shaming her.
~~*~~
"Dom, you get on the computer today?" Tony smiles at me but I can't imagine the guy likes me in his house.
He's been nothing but welcoming, but I can't imagine having your girlfriend's twenty-five year old son that you had to lock up living with you is what he expected in his future.
"Dom was fixing the pool," my mom says before I can respond; I nod.
"Oh, alright." Tony's gaze is still on me when he asks, "Any luck?"
"All fixed." There's pride in my mom's voice, but I'm not sure how.
I just nod again because she's not going to let me talk.
"What was the problem?"
"It was the pump wires," she replies and my eyes land on her.
Tony clears his throat. "Marilyn, I'm talking to Dom."
"I'm sorry." She puts her napkin to her face and her eyes close.
"It's cool, mom." Looking at Tony, I open my mouth but my mom's sniffle makes me jerk to look at her. "Mom?" Rushing over, I reach for her until I see the bounce of her shoulders as confirmation she's crying.
Fuck.
"Marilyn?" Tony stands but he's not moving so I pull her to stand and wrap my arms around her.
"What's wrong, mom?"
"I'm sorry," she sobs and I shoot a glance toward Tony, almost feeling as if I should let him handle this.
I want to do it. I want to be my mom's comfort again, but I don't think that's me anymore.
"What's wrong?" I repeat.
"You're so smart, Dominic," she cries and my brows furrow. "You lost seven years." Her arms grip me tighter.
"For the choices I made," I assert because that is the facts.
"I can't lose you again. It's been hard without you."
My gaze flits to Tony because I don't know what she means by 'It's been hard without you', but I don't like the sounds of it. It puts me in a real predicament because if he's been hurting my mom, I got no problem being locked u
p again to make him pay. Then at the same time, she's in tears because I haven't been here.
"Tony's dealt with so many days of me breaking down because I missed you, Dom. And your brother." She lifts her head and looks at him with a thousand apologies in her tears.
"Marilyn, Dom's back. Everything is as it should be."
Like hell it is.
I feel better knowing my assumption he's been hurting her is probably wrong, but things are not as they should be. My brother should be here with us. I shouldn't have spent the last seven years in prison. And not because I didn't deserve it, but I shouldn't have done that to myself.
"I'm here now, mom." I rub her back and kiss her head, still uncomfortable by a woman in tears.
"You don't have to move out when you get a job, honey." She sniffles and begins to wipe her face. "You can stay as long as you need, and if you're more comfortable here with me and Tony, you could just pay rent and take over the basement."
My mouth opens but before I break her heart anymore tonight, I just hug her tighter and tell her, "Thanks."
"Dom, I have a job I want you to take a look at. Finish eating and I'll pull it up online."
"Cool." I look into my mom's face and she gives me that smile she's mastered for other's sake, but there's no sense in worrying about what's bothering her.
I can't take back the past seven years.
~~*~~
"It's not glamorous," Tony says pointing at the description on the screen. "But it's a start. This is just a stepping stone. I tried to get you into the precinct for maintenance but…" He trails off because he won't say the words that will stay with me forever.
"I'm a convicted felon. This is cool, Tony," I mumble after reading the landscaping description.
Yard work for rich people. All my dreams are coming true. With him at my back, I roll my eyes. I don't want him to think I'm not grateful. Any income is a start.
"How do I apply?"
"The job's yours if you want it. My brother owns the company." He points to the name in the corner of the screen, 'Durante Sons'. "My pops hated I stuck with being a cop and wasn't going to take over the business with Rory. But we gotta do what we want, not what others want from us." He leaves me sitting at the computer, wondering if that was a jab at me, but I don't feel like analyzing his words.
I glance over my shoulder toward the door then quickly do a name search: Nyla Wood. There're several results, but in the image search, none are her.
"Dom?" my mom's voice comes from down the hall.
I quickly exit out of the screen and stand, fumbling just in time for her to walk in and see my panic. She gives me a knowing look. The only problem with that is she doesn't actually know, and I can guarantee she thought I was looking at porn or something.
"What's up?" I head toward her and she clears her throat, looking down with embarrassment.
I'd rather her think I was looking at porn than trying to stalk my ex. Not that stalking is beneath me. After all, that is how I won Nyla over the first time.
"Did Tony show you the position?" Her eyes go wide and cheeks turn red before she blurts, "The job position?"
Rubbing the back of my neck I tell her, "Yeah. I gotta tell him I'd like the job," and head toward the basement to get away from the awkwardness.
"I'll tell him, honey," she calls down the stairs.
"Thanks, mom." Entering the bedroom, I close the door behind me and stop a minute to sulk over my search that turned up nothing.
Seven years is a long time without someone, and maybe I'm not over Nyla because I didn't exactly get the chance to get over her. I got locked up with no chance to let someone else try and help mend the broken heart she left me with. I'm not hell-bent on finding her and trying to make amends, but if things fell into place for me, I wouldn't complain.
That night still plays through my head to this day. The night I thought she was coming back to me. I've never been a what-if type of person until I was locked in a cell and the what-ifs started driving me mad. If Rupe hadn't become my cellmate, I'm not sure I'd still be here today. It wasn't his first time being locked up, and thanks to him, he taught me how to survive in there. But I felt for the guy. Not that he wasn't at fault for being locked up again, but the guy thought he was a product of his environment. He had the same mentality I did until I met Nyla. Only problem with Rupe was he had ten years on me and still couldn't take fault for his actions that kept getting him fucked over.
It's in my past. I need to focus on the now because we're only given one chance to just breathe. I've already done a hell of a job suffocating myself since I was a kid. Nyla was my oxygen, and only having fresh air for a few months really fucks with your brain.
Thoughts of suffocating makes me think of my brother. How he died. Then the why he died becomes weights on my chest. I flip over my picture of him that's sitting on the shelf. Just for the night.
While I ride the bus to a neighborhood setting I'm more accustomed to, the city passing by tells me I've been away too long. I've only been to Seattle once and don't remember much about it, but with no car, and being released back into the world, I've been exploring. The city's not perfect, but it's an upgrade from what I used to consider home. Right now though, I'm headed to a shady neighborhood that's poverty stricken and full of crime. I know this life and mentality and if my mom hadn't gotten out of the hood we grew up in, I'd have returned to it when I was released.
This address in my head is only there by memory and each day I put it off, the memory fades, so I'm fulfilling the dying wish of someone I considered a true friend before I forget it all together.
With my backpack on my back and fingers wrapped tight around the straps to protect what's mine, I approach the shabby house with the dead front lawn and weeds as a garden. The knock of hollow wood echoes when my knuckles hit the splintering front door. One good kick and this door could be snapped in half.
"Who is it?" a wary female voice calls from the other side.
"Iesha? My name's Dom Sestak. I knew your boyfriend."
The thud from her unlocking the barrier confirms that there's nothing to the structure of this door. The petite woman that pulls it open has a mixture of emotions on her face and I'm not sure if I should run, hug her, or take cover.
"I heard a lot about you." She wipes at her nose and that's when I notice she has tears in her eyes.
Inwardly groaning, I step inside when she gestures but I don't hug her because her body language tells me not to even get close.
"I uh…" Don't know. I don't know why I came. Well I do. It's to give her and her two kids money, but I'm not sure why I didn't just mail a check. "Rupe was my only friend when we were away." I glance toward the kitchen and see a half naked baby in a high chair and another shirtless child kneeling on a chair while they eat.
"He said the same about you. That you were a great man. You taught him a lot." She bats at her tears and I look down, feeling awful for making her cry. "He promised this time he got out he wouldn't be goin' back and he said 'cause you were teachin' him right." She smirks and wipes her face again.
"He was a good friend and a great guy." Not sure what else to say, I leave it at that because I wasn't teaching him shit.
Everything I learned in there that kept me alive was because of Rupe.
"Thanks. We were just sitting down to eat."
"Sorry, I just came to give you something."
"Want to sit with us?" she asks while walking to the sink.
Right now I want to kick myself for showing up.
"No, I don't want to intrude. I just have this for you." Pulling my backpack off my back, I unzip it and when I glance up at her kids, what I see makes me freeze. My mouth hangs open a minute and my throat goes dry as my heart rate speeds up. "What're you doing?"
"My man's wronged a lot of people," she says in tears as she stands in front of the kitchen table while her kids hide under it. "You can't trust no one."
"I just have money," I blurt and pull the envelope
from my backpack, watching her flinch. "Holy shit," I whisper, never having felt so out of place. What the hell did Rupe put them through? "I'm not here to hurt you or your family. Are there people that want to hurt you?" I ask a little too loudly and the older of the two children starts to cry which causes the domino effect with the younger. "Iesha, are you in some kind of trouble?"
Why she let me in her house and is now afraid of me has me confused and wanting to get the hell out of here.
"There's always trouble when it comes to Rupe." Her shaking hand wipes at her nose and has me glancing back toward the door for an exit.
Thinking she might need some help, and wanting her to understand Rupe never wronged me, I insist, "He was my friend," while she pulls her kids out from under the table.
"Wouldn't be the first time. Why are you bringing me this?" Her eyes flash to the envelope in my hand while she holds the gawking children in her arms, one on each hip.
"Are you and your kids in trouble?"
Seeing her reaction to me reaching inside my bag has me uncomfortable. Not for me, but for her, and I can't just walk away if she needs some sort of help.
"I told you there was always trouble. Friend or foe, it don't matter. Rupe had a way of rubbing people wrong."
"He never did anything to me. And I'd never show up at your place to hurt you or your kids if he had! Shit." I huff then blurt, "Sorry," as I look at the kids that look just like Rupe.
"Well, I don't want your money." She eyes the envelope again before anger turns her face as she looks at me. "I don't understand why you're bringing me money."
"To help you out. Because I have it right now and when you buried Rupe, I was still locked up and couldn't help you out in any way. So take it." I hold out the envelope but don't move from my spot.
The last thing I need is to scare her and her family more. I'm wishing I became an anonymous supporter, but I wanted to make sure the money would be used for her kids. I wanted to get to know her kids. I already know everything Rupe could tell me about them, and as he died he asked me not to let them grow up forgetting him.
