“Take a look inside,” he urged.
The girl opened the envelope, and when she saw all of the Ben Franklins staring back at her, she dropped it as if it were hot to the touch.
She leaned over the counter, and her chinky eyes peered at him suspiciously. “What is this?”
“It can be yours if you cooperate,” Edris responded. Macy had already acted irrationally, and Boomer’s murder was going to blow up the spot. Edris couldn’t bring more conflict to the situation. It was sometimes more effective to put a little sugar in the game, as opposed to shit. He was going to sweeten the pot for the young girl so that she would help him cover up Boomer’s murder.
“Cooperate how? I don’t understand what you want from me,” the girl replied with a slight tremor in her voice.
“Relax, sweetheart. If I wanted to hurt you, you would have never seen me coming. I just want to talk. You understand?” Edris asked. “Can we talk?”
She nodded her head, still nervous as she looked around the empty lobby. She had no choice but to hear Edris out because there was no one in sight, in case she needed help.
“Now, something happened inside this hotel tonight, and I need the surveillance tapes,” Edris stated. “How much would I have to give you for you to give me the tapes and forget that you ever saw me?”
“I ... I ...” The girl stammered, unsure of what to say or even what number to throw out.
“I’m trying to talk business with you, baby girl, so just calm down and put your big girl panties on,” Edris stated. “What’s your price?”
The girl knew that she could be fired for even thinking about giving over the tapes, but she had a feeling that this could be a bigger payday than she would ever see in a week’s check. She thought of all the bills that were stacking up at her house and of the college tuition that was due in a few weeks. “Five thousand dollars,” she said, feeling as if she were reaching. The girl never expected Edris to pay her that much money for one measly tape, but she had no clue who she was dealing with. Edris did not immediately respond, and she was worried that she had gone too high.
“If that’s too high ...”
“There is twenty thousand dollars in that envelope. You can have it for the tapes and for you to forget about this little conversation,” Edris proposed.
The girl slid the envelope behind the desk and was too excited to contain the sly smile that spread across her thin lips. “What conversation?” she asked.
Edris chuckled and nodded his head. “My girl. Now, the shit is going to hit the fan soon, and when it does, you don’t know shit and you didn’t see shit,” Edris schooled. “Now, show me where the surveillance is.”
The girl led him to the back, where the recording system was set up. Edris had the girl leave him alone, because he did not want her to notice Macy’s face on the tapes. He didn’t need her looking over his shoulders. He ran the tapes back and watched as Macy walked through the lobby and up to Boomer’s room. He could only imagine what had gone down inside. He immediately popped the tape out of the recorder and then erased the data on the system for the entire day. He pocketed the tape and then emerged from the room.
“Give me your license,” he told the girl.
“What?” she questioned.
“For insurance. You will be completely safe as long as you keep up your end of the deal. If you talk about this to anybody, especially the police, I’ll know where to find you, and I’ma come see you. My next visit won’t be so friendly,” he warned.
The girl removed her license with hesitance. She made a copy of it behind the desk and slid him the copy. “I won’t say a word.”
He folded the paper and put it in his pocket with the tape and replied, “You better not.”
He walked out of the hotel like a ghost. It was the first and last time that the place would ever see him.
Chapter Seven
Fatima lay in bed restlessly as her mind spun uncontrollably. It had been two days since she had spoken to Boomer, and she wished that he would just come home.
“What if something happened to him?” Fatima asked as she turned to face Macy, who was reading a copy of Black Enterprise, catching up on his finances before he went to bed.
Macy heard her question but acted as if he were too distracted to respond. Guilt filled him because he knew that she was waiting for a child who was never coming home again. He wanted to tell her what had happened, but she would never understand. He knew that Fatima’s love for her son outweighed any love she had for anyone else, even herself. He could never let her find out that he was behind Boomer’s death. It was a wrath that he knew he did not want to see.
“Macy?” she whined.
He looked up from his reading and saw the apprehensive look on her face. Her tired, red eyes revealed her worry, and she looked as if she had aged five years overnight. He reached over and pulled her near him so that she was snuggled against his body, resting her head on his chest.
“You said he was high when you spoke with him, right?” Macy asked.
“Yeah, but—”
“Don’t panic, Tima. You know how Boomer gets when he goes on his binges,” Macy said as he rubbed her hair gently. “He’ll turn up. Don’t stress out over this.”
“You’re probably right,” she whispered as she shook her head. “I can tell you this: If he is okay, I’m going to kill him when I finally see him. He can’t keep doing this to me. The drugs and the recklessness, it all has to stop. He’s my baby, and I can’t be up worrying over him like this. He has to get help. Macy, you have to help him. He loves you and he looks up to you.”
Her words penetrated his heart, and he felt a small pain in his chest. “I will, baby. Get some sleep,” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he kissed the top of her head. He folded the magazine in his hands and reached over to the nightstand to turn off the lamp. The darkness helped conceal the sin he had committed. He didn’t know if he could keep up his lie if he had to see how badly Fatima was hurting.
The doorbell rang, and Fatima shot up, throwing the covers off of her body. “That’s him!” she assumed, knowing that no one else could be at the front door at 2:00 A.M.
She threw on her short silk kimono robe. Macy was barely out of bed before she was racing down the stairs to answer the door. She snatched open the door, and her anxious face fell in horror when she saw the two police officers standing before her.
“Hello, Mrs. Sigel,” one of the officers greeted. His tone was respectful, and even though she didn’t know him, the officer was well aware of who she was. As the mayor’s wife, she was very well known throughout the city.
“Officers,” she said back. “Can I help you?” she asked as she tightened her robe.
Macy finally came down the stairs and stood by her side. He put his hand on the small of her back. “Jamison, Williams,” he greeted as he reached out to shake the young men’s hands while calling them by name. “Please come inside.”
They stepped into the foyer and hesitantly directed their attention toward Macy.
“Mr. Mayor ... um, we ... we’re here about your son.”
Fatima’s heart sank when she heard those words. “No ... no ...” she whispered, already knowing the news that they were about to deliver.
“I’m sorry to deliver the news that he has been murdered.”
“No! Macy, no!” Fatima shouted as pain took over her entire body. The wind was knocked out of her, and she doubled over as if she had been punched in the abdomen. She gripped her stomach as she let out an animalistic howl. “No! My baby!” She broke down, not caring that she had an audience.
Macy went to her side, and she collapsed into him as she cried her eyes out on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Tima. I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered. She didn’t know the true meaning of his words, but he was apologizing because the burden of Boomer’s death rested on his shoulders. He was the one who had pulled the trigger, and now he was forced to watch his wife fall apart.
“Thank you, ge
ntlemen. Please see yourselves out,” Macy said without ever letting Fatimah go. She was hysterical and so weak at the knees that if he let her go, she would hit the floor.
“When you get a chance, we need one of you to come and view the body to confirm that it’s him,” the officer said in a low, hesitant tone.
Macy nodded, and the officers left as Macy catered to his wife.
Fatima could hardly contain herself; she was sobbing so hard. “Oh my God... . Macy, he’s dead,” she screamed sorrowfully.
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m going to take care of you, ma. Shhh, everything is going to be okay,” he whispered as he tried to soothe her. He had known that she would react this way, but seeing it made his conscience heavy.
The two of them had never had any secrets between them, but Macy’s actions had polluted their relationship. This was a secret that he could never tell her because he knew that she would never understand. Forgiveness for this act was something that Fatima would never lend him, and as he held her tightly, he told himself that he could never let her find out. Boomer’s murder would be something that he took to his grave.
Fatima went numb after they identified the body. Seeing her only child lying so stiff in the city morgue killed her. It was as if a vital part of her had died right along with Boomer. She completely withdrew inside of herself and allowed Macy to take the lead. She didn’t make one funeral arrangement. Macy planned everything and spared no expense. Fatima appreciated Macy because he held her up in front of the cameras and the crowd. He would send Boomer home with class and style, ensuring that the last memory that people got of him was a positive one. What she thought he did out of love was really out of pure guilt.
Macy tried desperately to pull Fatima out of her funk. He needed her to be at her best at all times, and Boomer’s death was taking a hefty toll on her. A great sadness had taken over her spirit.
Boomer’s death was nothing but bad press for Macy. As an elected official in the city, people were having a field day and labeling him as a man who had strong ties with L.A.’s most notorious drug dealers and gang leaders. Things grew increasingly tense as he tried to maintain a good image. Everything had to be carefully calculated. He couldn’t make any spontaneous moves without it being scrutinized. Not only were his policies in jeopardy, so was his character, and the last thing Macy needed was this unwanted attention.
He was well aware that he had brought it upon himself, and he tried everything to right his wrongs, but it was useless. Fatima was completely torn up over Boomer’s death, and the lady who usually made him look good could barely even hold herself together. All of the chaos had been a direct result of Macy’s stupid actions. I should have never gone to see Boomer with a pistol on my hip, Macy thought with regret.
Los Angeles was a city that would build you up just to tear you down, and Macy was feeling the pressure. He had set himself up to win, and all of the cards had been stacked in his favor until Boomer had deviated from the plan. Boomer was the only piece of his puzzle that didn’t fit. He wasn’t a part of Macy’s American dream. His drug addiction and reckless behavior had made him the bad seed in the family. The way that Boomer was living, Macy knew that one day Boomer would become a problem. Never in a million years did he expect to be the one to rock him to sleep.
As Macy stared out of the window of his office he shook his head, hoping that the entire situation would become yesterday’s news sooner rather than later.
“When are these mu’fuckas going to move on from this?” he asked rhetorically.
Big E, who sat across from Macy’s executive desk, shrugged his shoulders and replied, “I don’t know, but the longer they linger on it, the more attention they bring to it. That means the spotlight and all eyes are resting on you right now.”
“That’s a problem,” Macy said in a low voice. “We still have people on payroll inside of the police force, right?”
Macy hadn’t wanted to grease political palms or make friends before, but he was glad that he had. The connections that he had been hesitant about making were the same ones that were going to save his ass.
“Yeah, they are in place,” Edris responded.
“Good. I need Boomer’s murder buried. This can’t get out,” he whispered.
Macy realized what was on the line; not only was his freedom in jeopardy, but also his marriage. Everything he had done to get to this level of success would be in vain if it was all taken away because of Boomer.
He closed his blinds and turned toward Big E. “Make sure this goes away as soon as possible, and I want those fucking news vans off of this property,” he snapped.
Macy watched from the window as Edris went and did his job, ensuring that no one got into the building who wasn’t employed there. He couldn’t allow this situation to get out of hand. It was containable at the moment, but Macy knew that one more negative encounter was all that was needed to send his world spiraling downward.
It wasn’t the act of murder that disturbed Macy. He had put in work before, and he understood what came along with taking the life of another. But this one had not been planned, and it hit close to home because it was the biggest mistake that he had ever made.
As he watched the media pack up their things and drive away in their TV news vans, he sighed in relief. Macy just hoped that this would not escalate because he truly believed in karma, and after the sin that he had committed, he knew that nothing good could lie in his dismal future.
The seams to his life seemed to be coming undone, and with Fatima devastated over Boomer’s untimely death, she was no longer the glue that held everything together. As a couple they had never been so vulnerable, and as a man, Macy had never felt so low.
What type of man does that to the child he raised? he thought somberly. He remembered teaching Boomer to ride a bike. It was Macy who had stayed up with Boomer teaching him the ins and outs of sports as they watched different games together. Before Boomer began experimenting with narcotics, the two had been close, but that seemed so long ago. The world had corrupted things too much to go back to those happier times, and whether he wanted to admit it or not, things would never be the same.
Chapter Eight
It was the day of Boomer’s funeral service. The cemetery yard was packed, and cloudy skies loomed over the city on that day. Macy’s bodyguards acted as pallbearers as they carried the silver-plated casket to the burial site. Supporters and family friends gathered around the rectangular dugout that would be Boomer’s final resting place.
Macy stood next to his wife, consoling her as she cried in his arms. They both were draped in all black, mourning the death of their loved one. Macy had mixed emotions and began to regret what he did after seeing the pain and suffering his wife had endured because of his spontaneous action. Macy’s conscience was getting the best of him because every time he looked at his wife, he saw Boomer.
As the casket was set on the foundation, preparing for it to be lowered into the ground, the spectators looked on as the preacher began the sermon.
Damn, Boomer. Why did you have to do this to yourself? Macy thought as he shook his head in shame. A veteran of the street game and having past experience with people who held envy in their heart, Macy knew that if he didn’t kill Boomer when he did, Boomer would have eventually done him in. Macy regretted it, but it was necessary.
As the preacher finished up the sermon, a slightly heavyset lady with a big black hat stepped out of the crowd. A soulful voice emerged from her vocal cords as she began to sing her own rendition of “A Change Is Gonna Come.” It seemed as if her voice was touched by the angels, and her song only ignited more tears within the audience.
As she sang, the casket was slowly being lowered, and that was when Fatima lost it. Her knees buckled, and Macy had to catch her from falling.
“I got you, baby,” he whispered into her ear as he held her up. As he looked at his wife falling apart, he really contemplated resigning as mayor. He began to question his choices in life. Here he was, a
real street nigga in a political realm. He didn’t fit in and he knew it. No matter how many fancy suits or rich friends he had, he still was a boy from the ghetto. The only difference was that he made it out. However, you can take the boy out of the ghetto, but not the ghetto out of the boy. Macy knew that the hood mentality was still in him, and burying Boomer was the proof.
Light rain began to fall, and while other people assumed that it was just an act of Mother Nature, Macy knew that it was tears of the late Boomer.
Meanwhile, Case was on the other side, itching to get to Macy. He had always had a slight jealousy issue with Macy. He believed that Macy purposely kept him underneath him and stunted his growth in the drug game. He believed Case only gave him a chance to grow once he himself was out of the drug game. Case didn’t understand that it wasn’t Macy keeping him from growing, but his own brute approach and lack of business skills.
The birth of the green-eyed monster that society calls jealousy came into play years ago. It was when Macy didn’t allow Case to meet the out-of-town coke connect. Case always believed that he and Macy were equal partners until that day. Case could remember it like it was yesterday... .
It was the year of 1998, and crack had just reached full stride in the black community. Macy and his squad of goons had the whole city on lock and afraid. He ran a flawless operation with over fifteen operating crack houses within the city. Macy was virtually unstoppable. Macy was what you called a people’s champ. The community embraced him even though he was the one responsible for tearing it down.At the time, Case was Macy’s head street general and mostly handled all of the dirty work for him.
Friends since childhood, they had a bond, and both played an integral part in the operation. Macy was the brains and Case was the muscle. They both understood their role and everything was smooth, but as the old saying goes, once envy enters, reason leaves. This was a prime example of that saying, and it didn’t show up until Macy was on his way to Florida to visit his coke connection.
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