Riddles

by Rhonda Crowder

  Walking down the concourse, I felt my cell vibrate. Tory called. I thought about answering, but decided against it. I really didn’t feel like explaining my sudden departure. I had to figure some things out before discussing anything with anyone else.

  I rejected, and put my phone back in my bag, I nearly walked right into husky body, big enough it seemed to be a tight-end.

  “Watch out, Ma,” the familiar male voice said.

  “Oh, shit!” I looked up and found myself staring into Diablo’s face. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “On my way out the country. What’s up with you?”

  “I’m going to Cleveland. Where you going?”

  “To handle a little business.”

  “I’ll leave that alone then.”

  “You can join me when you get done in Cleveland if you want to,” he said flirting.

  “Now, why would I do that? I don’t know where you’re going?”

  “It’s somewhere I’m sure you would enjoy.” He smirked. “Seriously, I’ll be in different parts of Europe for a couple of months. If you want to join me, hit me. I’ll make the arrangements. I’d love to kick it wit’ you. Nothing serious. Just kick it. I just love to be in the company of beautiful women such as yourself.”

  “I’ll do that. But I better be moving so I can get where I’m trying to go now.”

  “Don’t stand me up.”

  “I’m flattered!” I said as I felt the vibration again. I nodded at him, and continued on my way. I noticed a news stand. Seeing how I had some time to spare, I perused the selections of books but didn’t find anything interesting. I shifted my attention to the magazines, most of which I had already read. Being the type of person who found it very difficult to walk out of a store without buying something, I ended up with several bags of soft candy.

  When I arrived at my gate, I reached for me laptop to do a little research.

  I checked the daily headlines, but there was nothing appealing enough to take my mind off of my initial intentions for surfing the web. I went to Google and entered Emerson’s name. I waited patiently for it to load but it seemed as if it took forever. Finally, the page came up and in full view I scrolled the hits until I saw a link that read “Emerson Jones for Senate 08.”

  Get the... outta here, I thought while clicking on to his campaign website. “I haven’t been paying that much attention to current events,” I said. The gray-haired gentleman in a business suit seated next to me leisurely glanced in my direction with a grimace on his face, but I continued to look at the mini screen.

  The homepage popped up and Emerson’s name flashed onto the screen, Georgia on my Mind played in the background.

  Ain’t this ‘bout a ...

  With all kinds of crazy thoughts going through my head, I searched his website to see what he was up to. There were pictures of him shaking hands and smiling with citizens and a description of all the things he’d done to help improve DeKalb County.

  “So, was this the reason for that phone call?” I said aloud as I opened the candy.

  I backtracked to Google and continued to look through the results. When I got to the second page, I saw a link that contained a reference to him. It appeared to be a political blog, so I pointed and clicked to be routed to that website. Slowly, the window opened and the headline stated that Congressman Hank Johnson faced some possible challengers. Knowing Johnson took Georgia’s Fourth Congressional District seat after the ordeal with Cynthia McKinney, I continued to read. The article revealed DeKalb County CEO Vernon Jones may drop out of the senatorial campaign to run as Emerson entered this race.

  I rubbed my head.

  Although I wasn’t surprised by the revelations because I knew he would eventually, the timing took me aback. It really made me wonder. I didn’t read further because I heard the boarding announcement for my flight.

  Since we broke up, I didn’t care to hear about Emerson or what he did. He left me heartbroken and with child. So, I tried hard to not follow his career. Difficult to say the least, the media tracked his progress. They loved him. With his handsome face and charming aura, he always exhibited the traits of a rising political figure.

  Shortly after I had Markie, Shirley Franklin became the first African-American woman mayor of Atlanta. Good thing for Emerson, his elitist family maintained strong political connections. It didn’t take long for him to gain a seat on her regional commission’s board and eventually became district attorney – the youngest to ever hold the position. I guess Emerson’s family felt like the timing seemed perfect to send their son to Washington, especially with Obama making his bid for the White House.

  I didn’t give a damn if he ran for higher offices or not. I knew he would one day seek bigger platforms and my background as well as our baby would completely dampen any hopes at success if anyone learned about us. I got that. I surrendered, bowed down to it. I knew he worked hard for it. I wanted him to succeed.

  But, I guess he had to be certain? I thought. He wants me dead? Maybe his parents.

  He couldn’t prove it, but he was the only person I could think of with strong enough motive.

  But damn, I hadn’t ever thought he could be that cold.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Driving along Interstate 71 North into the city brought back so many memories of much simpler times. Crossing the inner belt bridge, seeing Terminal Tower against the skyline signaled to me that I officially made it home. After I drove my rental around Dead Man’s Curve, I decided to exit at East 55th Street and Marginal Road to just sit and look at Lake Erie for a few minutes.

  I wanted to ponder my life in a familiar place.

  Even though the dirtiest of the Great Lakes, I found peace in looking out across Erie and imaging the Canadian border all the way on the other side. I remembered when my mother and stepfather would bring me to the lakefront park to play as a child. On the outside looking in, to those who didn’t know us, we appeared to be a normal family. And, people always said I “favored” him. Ironically, my stepfather wasn’t as much like most of his counterparts who had at least a dozen or more children scattered about the country.

  Despite it all, Ms. Anna raised him to be a gentleman.

  I left the lakefront and drove to Ms. Anna’s home in Shaker Heights. I slowly stepped out of the car and walked toward the side door. I put my key in the hole then turned it. To my surprise, Markie stood on the other side at the top of the steps.

  “Mommy,” she yelled then jumped into my arms. “I missed you!”

  “I missed you, too!” Because my little snaggletooth child had grown to the point where I could not carry her anymore, I put her down and made her walk ahead of me. The smell of Ms. Anna cooking all of my favorite foods intoxicated me. “Markie, where’s your Nana?” I asked.

  “In the bathroom,” she said.

  “Look at you. You’ve grown since I last saw you,” I said while taking a seat at the kitchen table and holding her out in front me. With copper colored skin and narrow lips, she resembled her father. “How’s school?”

  “Excellent. I love it so much. I’m going to be in a play.”

  “That’s great. Mommy will be right there cheering you on.”

  “I love you, Mommy, and I miss you,” she whined.

  “Oh Markie, I miss you, too. Mommy promises we’re going to spend more time together real soon. I just want you to get the best education so you can have the best life has to offer. You understand that, don’t you?” I said before looking up to see Ms. Anna entering the kitchen. I kissed Markie’s forehead then stood to give my godmother a hug.

  “My, you’ve lost some weight since the last time I saw you,” I said as I backed away. “Markie’s gaining, you losing. What’s going on round here?”

  “Your child eats me out of house and home,” Ms. Anna said in her soft, crackling voice. She walked over to the stove, and peeked in a pot on the stove. “And, how are you doing? What brings you up here at the spur of the moment?”

  “Mark
ie, go upstairs and find a book you want me to read tonight while I talk to your Nana.” I gave my baby another kiss before she took off. I waited until the coast cleared to speak openly. The last thing I needed was an upset child. She comprehended very well.

  “Ms. Anna, someone’s trying to kill me.”

  She stopped and turned to me. “Chile, what you to talking about?”

  I repeated my last statement then filled her in.

  “If it was meant for you, then why ain’t you dead?” she questioned.

  “I figured they killed the wrong person. A hit gone bad.” I told her of the resemblance between me and Malibu. She continued to look confused so I tried to give her all the pieces to the puzzle, including my “Baby Daddy Did It” theory.

  “Well, Chyne, I guess it’s time for you to tell me who that child’s father is,” she said.

  I obliged.

  “What you done got yo’ self caught up in?” she said looking over at me. “Why don’t you just move back home?” she asked.

  “I’m really thinking about it. But his reach can expand as far as Cleveland if necessary.”

  “The summer is coming up. It may not be safe for either of you down there.” She shook her head and walked over to the cabinet pulling out dishes. “Right now, let’s eat. We’ll work this out later.”

  I awoke the next morning feeling strange but got out of the bed and went into the bathroom to get dressed. As I walked through the hall smelling the aroma of breakfast, I heard a male’s voice. I bypassed the door for the top of the staircase in attempt to listen closer. My stepfather’s boisterous tone resonated. I rushed to freshen up so I could see him. And, like a kid, I hurried down the steps and turned the corner to enter the kitchen.

  “Long time no see, Sunshine,” he said as I entered the kitchen. He stood up from the table and opened his arms. I gave him a hug.

  “That’s ‘cause you ain’t been down my way.”

  “Looks like the ATL’s treating you very well.”

  “Me? Look at you. Jet setting across the globe, cameos in all the hottest videos,” I continued. “You got the world mesmerized by a pimp, huh?”

  “Baby girl, you know this pimpin’ never dies,” he said.

  We all laughed and Ms. Anna continued to cook. “So, what’s this I hear about somebody tryin’ to KO my baby girl?” he asked. I looked at Ms. Anna and she pointed her spatula at Pimp.

  I explained. He took a really deep breath and then said, “You know who it could be?”

  “Not a clue. But, one person continuously comes-” I said just as Markie entered the room.

  “Good morning, Mommy. Good morning, Nana…” she said in a sing-song kind of way until she saw Pimp. “Paw Paw!” she yelled then ran into his arms. He picked her up onto his lap and gave her a hug and snuggled her face.

  “Good morning, Princess,” I said. Ms. Anna smiled at her as she wrapped up the meal. Since Markie entered, I didn’t want to finish talking to my stepfather about my problems in Atlanta. I decided to use the time to run back upstairs and finish getting dressed.

  We all sat, ate like a family, and I realized how much I missed being home. Being a Sunday, I decided to take Markie to a movie. I sent her upstairs once breakfast ended so she could get ready and I could finish telling Pimp about my situation. I suggested we go into the basement.

  Ms. Anna stayed behind to clean up.

  “Like I said, her father is the only one I can think of with motive.” I flopped on the couch.

  “Who is this nigga? And, why would he want you dead?”

  “Emerson Jones, DeKalb-,” I attempted to explain.

  “That motherfucka! Ain’t he running for Congress?”

  “That’s the point. He must be scared I’ll expose it. But, I signed all kinds of papers and took the money and never said a thing.”

  “Get the fuck outta here,” he exclaimed. “You mean to tell me that bastard is the father of my grandbaby? I hope you taxed his punk ass! Why you ain’t never said shit?” he asked while shifting his weight as he sat on a stool and leaned on the bar.

  “That’s how true I stayed to our agreement. I figured he got what he wanted. Me and my baby . . . Well . . . We don’t want for nothing.”

  “You still dancing?” Pimp asked. “I thought that’s how you paid your bills.”

  “By choice.”

  “You know you playing with fire, right? You ain’t talkin’ about some joker out here in the streets who could end up at the bottom of the lake and no one will miss his ass. I did teach you to aim high, though, but didn’t know you crossed class lines. That’s old black money. He ain’t no poot-butt nigga. That’s fo’ sho.”

  “Yeah, but look where it’s got me. A single mother and possibly a baby daddy who wants me dead. That “poot-butt” nigga would’ve done nothing but duck child support.”

  He sat up and looked directly at me. “You ain’t got nothing to worry ‘bout, Sunshine. You know I’ma take care of you. But look here, though,” he said then flicked his nose with his thumb. “Give yo’ old daddy a few dollars since you sitting on a couple stacks, all papered up.”

  We chuckled.

  “On another note, you taking care of my roller?”

  I couldn’t lie to him. “Pimp, I drove your car.”

  “You ain’t been driving my car, Sunshine.” He said it more like a statement than a question.

  “I drove your car, but I’m glad I did,” I said then told him about the road rage incident that I now suspect is connected to the murder. I could see his dark chocolate face turn red, but in light of it all, he calmed himself.

  “I can’t believe that darling little girl is by that chump. How you gone approach this?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I came home. To remove myself from the situation and to think.”

  “Look here. This is what we’ll do. Let me handle this. I got something coming up but.... ” He paused, seemingly to think. “We’ll go back to the ATL tomorrow. Start putting some things in motion. I know this detective broad down there. She can help you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Pimp and I returned to Atlanta Memorial Day evening. The moment we touched down in the city, my phone started to ring. Abe called.

  I lowered my voice and a smile came on my face as I spoke. I trailed behind Pimp as we made our way down to the baggage claim, pushing everything but my conversation out of my head. Pimp must’ve noticed my inattentiveness.

  “You fucking that nigga,” Pimp whispered and pushed my arm as we headed out my my car.

  “Hey! I’m talking to you.”

  I nodded.

  “I need to meet him,” he said. “Soon as possible.”

  “My stepfather’s in town and wants you to meet him,” I said, popping open the trunk for our luggage. My phone beeped before he could answer. I saw Tory’s number.

  “What’s up, girl? Hold on.” I wrapped up with Abe.

  “Where ya been?” she asked once I clicked over.

  “I been kind of busy,” I said. I shut the car door and turned the ignition.

  “I been trying to reach you,” she said. “No answer. No returned call. Nothing. What’s going on with you?”

  “I went to visit Markie and just got back.”

  “What sparked that?” she said.

  “Long story. Can’t get into it right now. But anyway, what you doing later on tonight? Maybe, you can stop over and-”

  “Uh-uh, girl. I can’t. I got commitments to fulfill.”

  “Okay. But, let me call you back ‘cause these roads crazy,” I said while maneuvering through stop and go traffic.

  Pimp looked at me. “Until, we know for sure yo baby’s daddy is involved, don’t tell no one what you know,” he said. “Absolutely no one. We got to be careful. No telling who’s involved. Feel me?”

  “I feel you.”

  “I know you carry yourself proper-like ‘cause that’s how you were raised. But you don’t really know these people down here. Yo
u might think you do,” Pimp said and rolled down the window although I had the air on. “Someone can be trying to kill you cause of your association with somebody else. Mu’fuckas be paying their debts with other people’s lives, you know.” He stared at me. “Don’t trust nobody. I told you they don’t call this bitch ‘the dirty’ for nothing when you first moved down here.”

  “I really don’t fuck with too many people like that, Pimp,” I said and pushed the button to roll his window back up. “You know how I am. That’s why this shit got me tripping. I can’t help but think he’s behind it. If not him, his family.”

  We didn’t talk the rest of the way to my house. I pulled into my subdivision and stopped at the gatekeeper so I could introduce the guard to Pimp then drove through the small community until we reached my home. I only had a small roller and overnight bag. Pimp, on the other hand, had almost a dozen pieces of luggage including a huge vintage Louis Vuitton trunk.

  Good thing I drove my truck to the airport.

  He unloaded his pieces and took them to the guest room. Once settled, in a pair of pure silk pajamas with a matching quilted satin smoking jacket and slippers, he took a seat in the great room.

  “What you got to eat?” he asked as soon as I came down the stairs from unpacking and changing into some loungewear. “I’m starving.”

  I knew he hated frozen dinners so I decided to cook him a meal. He followed me into the kitchen. I threw a few slices of bacon on a baking sheet, stuck it in the oven, and scrambled a couple eggs in a bowl.

  “You’ll need to go back to Joker’s. I’m willing to bet that nigga gone show again,” Pimp said. He sat at the island on one of the stools. “I’ll have somebody in there watching your back.”

  “One of your people?”

  “Yeah. But she the real thing.”

  “She? Police?” I asked. I pulled a couple of oranges from the fridge, and put them on the extractor.