Reborn

by Lisa Collicutt

  Nadine came back to our table just as we finished eating. “Can I get you boys anything else?”

  “What else are you offering?” Sean asked out of the corner of his mouth. The two men gave her curious but sly glares.

  “That’ll be everything,” I said relieving her of her service, before any more lewd remarks were thrown her way by my overheated companions.

  Sean cocked his head and watched Nadine walk away.

  Justin sat back in his chair patting his newly bulging stomach. “You ready for the Red Room, Shane?”

  Whatever that was, I wanted no part of it. I had other plans. “No, thank you. I think I’ll get going.” I gave them the first excuse I thought of. “First day on the new job, you know?”

  “That sucks, man,” Sean said.

  I stood, casting a shadow over the table. “Maybe next time. Nice meeting you, Sean. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Justin.”

  “Okay, dude,” Justin yelled above the music as I walked away. “But you’re gonna miss the strip…”

  The rest of his words were lost in the loud music as I rushed through the crowd and back out on the street.

  Neon signs and streetlights lit up this part of Savannah like a lightning storm at night. After declining an offer from a hooker, and a good deal on drugs, I found someone who pointed me in the direction of the bus stop that would take me to Savannah State.

  I was at the mercy of this electrical-driven garden, as I set out alone in search of its finest flower… Desiree.

  he mood inside the bus was serene compared to the club. The ringing in my head lifted. I sat in front, on the middle of the seat, dominating both halves. From a jacket pocket, I pulled out the street map of Savannah, and starting at the red arrow pointing to the motel, I followed—as best as I could from memory—the bus route that took me to the club, circling the place with a pen, to the street I was on now.

  When we turned onto College Street, the swirling frenzy of anxiety in my stomach erupted. I didn’t know how Desiree would receive me—whether she would be happy to see me, or angry with me for locating her. What if she was with the boyfriend Melba had told me about? The closer I came to finding Desiree, the more I thought maybe I shouldn’t.

  When I saw the Southern Bean Coffee Shop sign, I released my grip on the edge of the seat and stood before the driver had a chance to alert me, as I had asked him to do.

  People, holding paper cups and divided into different sized groups, chatted and laughed in the parking lot. As I walked past them, toward the building, my eager steps turned to measured ones, as the groups of mostly African-American men and woman glared at me. Ignoring a few snide remarks, I continued toward the door. Being the odd man out, I didn’t want any trouble.

  Five large men leaned against a bicycle corral next to the door. I gave them a respectful nod as I walked past.

  “You lost, Captain America?” one man said—the bulkiest one of the group.

  I had no idea what that meant, unless it had something to do with the small American flag logo embroidered onto the left sleeve of my T-shirt. I thought it best to ignore the comment.

  Once inside, rich aromatic scents filled my nostrils with every breath. Caffeine euphoria floated throughout the crammed room. Most people talked in groups, while loners buried their faces into their laptops and other devices. Being taller than most, I searched above the crowd for that vibrant head of red velvet. I didn’t see it.

  So as not to look any more out of place than I assumed I did, I stepped to the back of one of the two lines, and inched my way toward the counter, without a clue as to what to do when I got there. As the line progressed, I concentrated on what the people in front of me ordered, and how they paid. Before I was ready, my turn was up. I pulled two one-dollar bills from my pocket. Behind the counter, a young guy waited on the line next to me. The girl waiting on my line suddenly rushed off toward the back with fresh coffee dripping down the front her white top, leaving me stranded. One of the bills I held fell to the floor. I stooped to get it, and when I straightened, my heart lurched at the surprise awaiting me.

  Desiree stood before me, only the counter between us, looking formal in black pants and a tucked-in white shirt slightly wrinkled. Her hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, with a few loose straggles framing her face. Her stunned expression fixed on me.

  In that moment, we owned the room.

  “Solomon,” she said, her eyes big and glowing under the ceiling lighting. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was looking for you.”

  “For me? Why?”

  “Because… I missed you.” The only truth I knew spilled out, along with my newly swollen heart.

  As if suddenly coming out of her trance, Desiree flicked a concerned gaze to the right, then to the left of me, which brought me back to reality and to the room filled with people.

  “Hey bud, take it up in the back seat of a car. I want my latte this year.” the guy behind me said. A small wave of laughter followed.

  The pink in Desiree’s cheeks deepened. “You have to order something,” she said, barely moving her lips.

  “Right, um…”

  “Coffee, double, single, right?” she said when I hesitated.

  “What?”

  “Two cream, one sugar. I think that’s how Auntie Mel made it for you.”

  As she talked, she worked in motions faster than the guy waiting on the other line. And by the time the first girl came back with a clean shirt on, I had the coffee Desiree had fixed for me in my hand.

  She turned her attention to the girl. I stepped aside to let the not-so-patiently-waiting people behind me have their turn.

  “You okay?” she asked her.

  “Yeah, thanks for covering for me.”

  After a brief conversation, Desiree turned back to me and said, “Meet me over there.”

  She pointed her dimpled chin toward a less busy corner of the room.

  By the time I watched two cars squeal out of the parking lot together, causing a small traffic jam, I sensed her behind me. I turned to face the room and Desiree standing beautifully before me, almost as close as she’d been that day in Solomon’s den. But with the amount of space afforded, everyone stood close together.

  Her smile gripped my heart.

  “So, where did you come from? Auntie Mel told me you went back to South Carolina. Back to your girlfriend.”

  “She did?” Of course she did. She didn’t want her niece messed up with someone like me. “I don’t have a girlfriend. I just left Melba’s house yesterday. I’m staying here in Savannah.”

  “Wow.” Her raised eyebrows fell into a frown. “She lied to me. I called the next day after…”

  Her gaze lifted from the center of my chest to mine, with a new touch of pink glowing on her cheeks.

  The memory of our bodies together in Solomon’s den seemed to come from inside my heart, and not my head. I felt my own heat rise to my face.

  “It doesn’t matter. She was just trying to protect you—”

  “From you?” She looked appalled.

  No, from the evil demon who is terrorizing me. “Don’t be angry with Melba. She helped me a lot in the past couple of weeks. I know how much you mean to her. She only has your best interest at heart.”

  The closeness of the corner wasn’t enough. I longed to reach out and touch the smooth skin on her face, pull her to me and feel her breath on the crook of my neck, like I shamefully did so many times in my daydreams. But I had to let her make the first move. She had to want to be with me as much as I wanted to be with her. Then everything would be right.

  Her expression softened. “So, you missed me?” Her bottom lip disappeared under the top one.

  More than I can say. I nodded. “Yes, I missed that enormous smile of yours.”

  A grin lifted her cheeks, and her gaze lowered to the floor, then back up again.

  “Like that.” Oh, how I missed it.

  Someone in the crowd bumped into Desiree. When
she lifted an arm to catch her balance, her hand hit my coffee cup, spilling a dribble on the floor.

  “Why don’t we continue this conversation somewhere else?” she suggested, looking at the splash.

  “Sure.”

  I sat the full cup of coffee on a ledge and followed her outside. The strings on the little black apron she wore tied at the back wiggled from side to side as she walked. I was reminded of Nadine, back at the Fox Den, and how she dressed for her job. I didn’t think I could stand to see Desiree wearing skimpy garments like that in public.

  She glanced over her shoulder at me. “My car is over there.”

  The hostile brood of five I’d seen on the way in still stood together, shooting me hateful glares. Once we were past them, the biggest of the bunch broke away from the group.

  “Hey, Desi? Where you going with Captain America?”

  “Shit,” she said low. “That guy’s a jerk. Just keep walking.”

  “What about that date you been promising me, girl?”

  While Desiree sped up, I slowed and turned. The obnoxious guy stopped in front of me. His four buddies hovered nearby. And behind them, the crowd seemed interested in what brewed between us.

  With her hand on the car door handle, Desiree yelled out, “I never promised you anything, Tyrell.”

  Tyrell’s bulk in width made up for his lack of height. His T-shirt looked too small, skinned on over his muscles. To anyone else, he might have looked impressive, but to me, he was a bug I wanted to step on.

  “This ain’t your part of town, boy,” he said goading me, trying to get past. But I stopped his every advance toward Desiree. “And that bitch over there, she’s one of ours, not yours. You feel me?”

  Tyrell’s blatant disrespect for Desiree was apparent in his tone, and his eyes exuded the kind of hatred I’d seen in only one other person, or whatever the evil Solomon was. As this guy stared into my face, an invisible band formed around my head, tightening. The balmy air became oppressive. My hands trembled with the need to hurt this man. I clenched them at my sides to keep them still.

  “He’s not worth it,” said a soft voice in my ear. “Come on.”

  Desiree laid a coaxing hand on my arm, but its soothing warmth wasn’t enough to pull me away.

  “It’s evident the lady wants nothing to do with you,” I said, sounding too formal for this group.

  Tyrell’s fingers curl into fists.

  “So I suggest you walk away while you’re still able.”

  A roar of laughter and shouts rang out in Tyrell’s favour.

  But my opponent didn’t laugh. Instead, he puffed out his chest, his head sinking into his thick neck. “You’re making this easier all the time, punk.”

  In the same instant, he reached past me and grabbed Desiree by the arm, yanking her forward, before I had a chance to stop him. When she collided with him, he wrapped a thick arm around her and squeezed her to him. Her puny struggles were useless against his rage.

  He’d just made this easier for me. I lunged at him. His tight T-shirt wasn’t easy to grab on to, but when I did get a hold, he released Desiree and pushed her toward his buddies, who grabbed her and held her.

  Sudden hostility toward this man raged through my body until every muscle, vein, and tissue ached to be used. The crowd’s noise became a heavy drone as my ears plugged from the sudden rush of adrenaline. My clear vision changed. Now I looked through two windows and not my own eyes. My body was in front of me, on top of me. I lurked inside a suit of myself. So I didn’t see when Tyrell lifted his fist to smack me in the side of the head.

  But I felt the blow, something like slamming into a boulder might feel.

  Individual voices around me became one annoying, ringing sound. Someone jabbed my left arm, making me stumble in the opposite direction, which resulted in someone pushing me from my right. I stumbled backward into a tree.

  “Fear makes you weak,” said a deep, loathsome voice in my head. “You’re a man. Act like one.”

  A memory came into view. An older man stood before me on a green lawn, his black hair sporadically speckled with gray. Squint lines formed around his eyes as he glared at me. He was the only human I ever feared.

  He held out an arm to me; something dangled in his hand. “Take the whip, boy. It’s time you learned how to rule this manor.”

  I lifted a shaking hand toward the seasoned strip of leather. At the same time, the street crowd came back into focus. My hand curled around something beside me. I tugged at it.

  Tyrell rushed at me, the palms of his hands colliding with my chest, but his shove barely budged me. Another round of jeers rang out. Another fist smashed into the side of my face, temporarily stunning me. A metallic, salty taste mingled with saliva on one side of my tongue. Again and again, I tugged at the thing my hand gripped until I unknowingly succeeded in stripping the tree of a long, thin branch.

  “Whatchu gonna do wit that, redneck, roast a marshmallow?” someone else called out.

  Each laugh, each hateful remark built my anger, until I was a tower of rage about to topple and demolish them all.

  As Tyrell’s fist came up again, I saw something shiny tucked against the inside of his arm, glinting off the streetlight. I brought my arm forward, and with the makeshift whip, struck him hard across one side of his ribs, but not before the weapon he had concealed cut me. I lashed out again, ignoring the sharp sting on my forearm and the fresh blood dripping down the back of my hand. Again and again, I cracked the stick across his arms, shoulders, and back. Each time I struck him, a power beyond anything I’d ever known fuelled me onward. Tyrell ceased fighting back and instead took a protective stance, crouching away from the assault.

  From somewhere in the crowd, a woman yelled at me to stop. When I had Tyrell reduced to a lump on the ground, I threw the stick on the pavement beside him and hauled him back up with my fists. His blood-soaked T-shirt, ripped to shreds, hung off him in tatters. In his eyes, fear had replaced the cocky rage he’d once exuded. When he stood on his own two feet, I released my hold on him. He didn’t fight back. My shoulders heaved as I fought to control my breathing, while glaring at the crowd and the fear on their faces. No one jeered now.

  Sirens blared in the distance.

  Tyrell’s friends grabbed him, got him into a car, then sped away. The small blade he cut me with lay at my feet. Desiree stood off to one side, alone, looking completely frightened.

  The crowd broke up. Desiree grabbed my wrist and tugged. I lifted my feet and ran with her. She was in her car with the engine running when I jumped in. We were a couple blocks away from the coffee shop when she finally spoke.

  “I-I didn’t think you would fight back at first, and then when you did… I didn’t think you would stop.”

  I’d already forgotten what went through my mind in those moments of rage, but I had whipped the spunk out of that boy, and I had felt energized at the time—not so much now. I remembered a power like no other covering me, filling me, consuming me like a swiftly growing disease. It had controlled my every move. Then there was that bullying voice behind it all, cajoling me onward. It wasn’t the evil Solomon’s voice; I was sure of that, but familiar, nonetheless.

  “Solomon?”

  Her voice rang softly through my ears in the compact car. Although I was overcome with distress from the recent fight, the closeness of Desiree dulled the ache of the battle scars.

  “Are you okay?”

  I took a deep breath and unstuck my bloody fingers from each other.

  “I’m fine. What about you? They touched you against your will. After that…”

  “Yeah.” Her bottom lip disappeared under her top one, again.

  “Did they hurt you?”

  “No, I’m fine,” she said.

  She glanced at my arm, then quickly back to the road.

  “Your arm is bleeding.” Her speed accelerated. “I’ll get you cleaned up when we get to my apartment.”

  The blue sofa in Desiree’s modest apartment
fit only two people. She sat sideways, one foot tucked underneath her, facing me as I stared out the large window at what looked like blue and red lights flashing in the distance. She worked gently to clean and dress the knife wound on my arm. After rinsing the blood out of the cloth, she brought it to the minor cut above my eyebrow. When she lifted hair off my forehead and pressed it back out of the way, I closed my eyes and concentrated on the warmth her hand brought to that spot on my head.

  “Stay away from the coffee shop,” she said, her face inches from my ear. “Tyrell’s got friends, and I don’t think you do, at least, not around here.”

  When I rolled my head to face her, she backed up her command with a pointed look.

  Silence.

  Then she slid her hand to my cheek, and my heart pitched forward.

  “I should never have gone there tonight,” I said wincing as Desiree poked lightly at the lump on the side of my head.

  “Sorry,” she said, wincing also.

  “You never did tell me where you’re staying.”

  I thought for a moment before confessing anything. I didn’t know how much she knew about Melba’s Hoodoo world that I was caught up in.

  She cocked her head slightly, waiting for an answer.

  “Right. I’m staying at the Rainbow Motel.”

  Her mood seemed to lighten. “I know it.”

  She changed focus to the cut, dabbed one more time, and then stuck a bandage over it.

  “Melba thought it best I move out… so the neighbors didn’t talk.”

  One corner of her mouth lifted along with both thin eyebrows. “Auntie Mel doesn’t have any neighbors, except for that bunch way up the road, so I’m not buying that.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “Did you want to leave?”

  “Desiree, there’s more going on than you should know about. The spirits—”

  A smile grew across her face. “Spirits? Auntie Mel’s spirits? She didn’t spook you with all that mumbo jumbo talk, did she? She’s conversed with ghosts for as long as I can remember. Of course, she believes someone is really listening.”

  “You don’t?”

  She shrugged. “All right, I admit I’m sort of on the fence. I never used to believe, but then I had this dream not so long ago; three Hoodoo priestesses from the past gave me a warning, said they were my ancestors, and that darkness drew near, and I was in danger, or something like that.” She paused a moment, as if deep into her thoughts. “That was right before I met you, actually.”