by Davis, Barry
Tamesha yawned again as the scene unfolded below. She turned from the window and climbed into bed. She soon fell asleep but her unconscious mind was busy.
Where could she hide when the monsters finally came?
Plastered on the large window out front of Wiley's Harlem campaign headquarters were numerous campaign posters featuring the smiling candidate bracketed by the slogan: SEND GOD TO CONGRESS - VOTE FOR WILEY.
In his office in the early morning with the door closed, Elias made busy at his desk, reviewing the overnight poll numbers. Wiley's support had actually risen after yesterday's incident. He smiled broadly and thanked God for poor black folks.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in."
Two men were standing there with Chi. The cheap suits screamed NYPD. Elias stood.
"Hello, detectives, what can I do for you?"
"Elias, they're asking about a missing reporter," said Chi.
"Mr. Turnbull, as we told Mr. Bright, we're searching for a reporter, Bernadette Brinkman, who was last seen outside of Reverend Wiley's home," said the oldest of the pair. The younger officer produced a photograph and showed it to Chi and Elias. It was a younger version of Brinkman, maybe mid thirties, dressed in a bridesmaid gown.
Elias and Chi shook their heads in tandem, neither recalled the woman from the throng of reporters.
"I'm sure Mr. Bright told you that we don't know anything about the lady's disappearance. After the reverend's comments yesterday, there were many reporters outside his house."
"We're aware of that, Mr. Turnbull, we were just interested in interviewing Mr. Wiley," said the younger cop. "Perhaps he had some contact with Ms. Brinkman?"
Elias smiled. "That's easy, detectives. After his ordeal, Reverend Wiley gave no interviews. He simply did some reading and retired early."
"Yeah, he retired. Early," echoed Chi.
"Well, I guess there's not more here for us to do. Let's go, Fred." The older detective turned to leave.
The younger cop followed his partner then stopped. He took a card from his wallet and a picture from the manila folder he carried.
"I'll leave the lady's picture and my card. If you happen to see her, give us a call."
He handed the items to Chi.
"Of course, detective," said Elias. "Chi, please show the detectives out."
"Sure."
Elias took the objects from Chi and as soon as they left the room he dumped the items in a trash can. Bernadette Brinkman's photo stared up at Elias from the trash.
A few moments later Chi returned to the office. Elias motioned for him to shut the door and sit.
"What the hell was that all about?" Elias asked.
"I don't know anything about this woman."
"The last thing we need is the cops interviewing Wiley. They'll either find out he's dead or they'll send him to the loony bin. Either way, we're screwed."
"I have to admit, E, I got second thoughts about this whole thing. Maybe this is connected to Wiley. Maybe God is pissed we brought him back."
"You're thinking too much, Chi. Way too much. Think about this. You're my chief of staff pulling 110G's. Driving a fat car in chocolate city with honeys coming out the ass. Think about that."
"That all sounds great Elias, but I just got a bad feeling." Chi shook his head.
"Hold it together, man. Seven more days, we get rid of Wiley and your bad feeling all at once."
Harlem socialite Dolores Capshaw's campaign headquarters was her penthouse apartment. Campaign posters lay about - the candidate, a youngish black woman with flawless near white skin, grins from the poster with this caption surrounding her face:
BEN THERE DONE THAT - CAPSHAW FOR CONGRESS
The candidate, in the middle of the busy apartment, spoke to an equally harried young man. "Humphrey, what are the overnights showing?"
Humphrey fingered his Droid until he called up the report. "We thought we could gain some ground after his statement during the breakfast."
"And?"
"We lost ten points."
"How can that be?"
Capshaw grabbed the phone from Humphrey. Her index finger furiously flipped page after page of the report.
"With him admitting a drug problem, it seems that all of Harlem's drug users and drug dealers got solidly behind Reverend Wiley. That's a significant block of votes."
"I was counting on those votes. Ever since Reagan came out with his 'just say no' campaign, the drug community has always voted Republican. Darn, I just knew they were going to vote for me." She stomped her Christian Louboutin's clad feet. "Who else did we lose?"
"We lost the race card crowd. They apparently think that this whole thing has been made up by the white man to get Wiley. They're all in Wiley's corner now."
"We need some dirt on Wiley."
"Yeah, drug use just doesn't get you as far as it used to."
"Try to find something really damaging."
"We'll start digging."
"Hurry, there's not much time left."
By mid morning Jan lifted her head from Wiley's bed. It took a few moments for it to register that there was no one lying next to her. Jan leapt from the bed. Wiley was gone!
Jan pulled on her clothing, her boots. She ran out of the room. Forgetting that he can't respond, she shouted his name.
"Ben! Where are you?"
In a few minutes Jan had searched the house with no success. She retrieved her cell and made the call that she was dreading.
"Chi Bright. Speak."
"Chi, he's gone."
"You mean..."
"He's gone. He's not in the house."
"Start searching outside. I'll get Elias and come right down."
Wiley strolled down Harlem's Lexington Avenue, the venue bathed in sunshine. Last night's meal had given him new vigor and locomotion. His arms swung at his sides and he wore something more than the same blank stare.
He had even dressed himself in a gray suit, white dress shirt, black Nikes and no socks.
As he walked along, several of his constituents recognized him. They shouted out greetings or other words:
"Good morning Reverend!"
"Hey Wiley, when you gonna get these streets fixed? Don't keep walking, you hear me, nigger!"
"Reverend Wiley, what a pleasure it is to see you!"
"What you doing down here Wiley, your limo broke?!"
Wiley reached an intersection. The sign blared "DON'T WALK" and cars were speeding through. After the briefest hesitation Wiley stepped out into traffic. The cars braked but not quickly enough. A cab crashed into him and lifted his body into the air.
Wiley landed in a heap on the opposite side of the street. The cabbie exited his vehicle and came running over along with several onlookers.
"Oh my god, they hit Reverend Wiley!" someone shouted.
"Somebody call an ambulance!" Several cell phones were produced, some calling '911', others to record the scene for posting online or sale to the mainstream media.
Wiley's body was face down, his left leg at a grotesque angle.
The cabbie, a small man of Eastern European descent, patted his victim on the shoulder. "Hey, the ambulance is on the way. Just lay still, buddy."
With that, Wiley turned himself over. Staring at the cabbie all the while, he grabbed his damaged leg and straightened it. There was a loud crunch as he did so. The crowd groaned. A young man up front fainted.
Wiley stood. He brushed off his suit and patted his Afro. The crowd parted as he walked away.
"But the ambulance?" asked the cabbie.
Wiley stopped, turned to face the man. "God ain't got nothing to do with it! Time to ride the white wave!"
Wiley let out a loud grunt as he continued down the street. The crowd, several dozen now, watched as one, a dumbfounded mass of humanity, as their representative walked away.
They were either too stunned or too afraid to follow.
In front of the Wiley home Elias stood outside the li
mo. He leaned over to talk to Chi, behind the wheel.
"You cruise around, he's got to be close by."
"How far can a zombie go?" Chi asked.
"I don't know, but from here on out, we keep him under lock and key."
Elias took off down the street, heading in the direction of Lexington Avenue.
Wiley continued his sojourn down the broad avenue. An old woman, holding the hand of a kindergarten age girl, approached him. He halted as the woman blocked his path.
"Reverend Wiley, this be my granddaughter, Braunkisha. She be o'ly five year old but she wants to ax you a question. Go ahead child."
Wiley's eyes travelled from the old woman to the face of the child.
"Reverend Wiley, my daddy keeps hurting Mommy? Can you help me?"
Wiley stared at her with a blank look. "Bring ya momma in and I'll heal her too!"
The old woman stood open mouthed. Wiley lifted his head and quickly walked off.
The young child jumped up and down, tears coming out her eyes. "You see, granny, the congressman gonna help Mommy!"
Jan reached the scene of the accident. The crowd was still buzzing.
"Has anybody seen Congressman Wiley?"
A shopkeeper heard the question. "Have we seen him? Who hasn't?" He shoved a Droid in her face and she watched the YouTube video of his miraculous resurrection.
"Where did he go?" she asked as she handed the man back his phone.
"I don't know. He got hit by a car, got thrown up in the air thirty feet, broke his leg, then he broke it back and took off."
"What direction did he go?" she tried again.
About a half dozen people pointed south. Jan sprinted in that direction.
A few blocks later, the avenue led onto a bridge. Jan got to the crown of the bridge, her breath ragged. She looked in all directions. No sign of Wiley. There were few buildings around. Mostly vacant lots except for a small school building on the opposite end of the bridge.
Jan rushed inside the school, bolting to the visitor's desk. An older woman stood behind the desk.
"Excuse me but I'm looking for Congressman Wiley. Have you seen him?"
"He walked past here about fifteen minutes ago. Are you from his staff?"
"Yes," Jan said. She smiled, collected herself. "He didn't say anything, did he?"
"Sounded like he was talking to someone about nuts, but I don't hear too well," said the woman.
"Oh, God. Do you know where he went?"
"I think he's in Mrs. Tolliver's class."
"Where?"
"Down the hall, second door on the right."
Jan sprinted out the room.
"But you need a hall pass...," the old woman called after her.
Jan got to the room. As she approached, she heard the singing. "The itsy bitsy spider came down the water spout, out came the rain and washed the spider out!"
Jan entered the room. There was Wiley, holding hands with an adult female who had to be Mrs. Tolliver. Linking hands with that pair were nearly a dozen children. The group was singing and acting out the song. Wiley's arms spread out as they all sang "Out came the sun and dried out all the rain!"
As she released his arm, Mrs. Tolliver and her class made a climbing motion with their fingers. "As the itsy bitsy spider climbs up the spout again!"
Jan was stunned as Wiley made the climbing motion along with them. He seemed to be evolving – somehow becoming more aware – more human. As the music ended, the class cheered.
Mrs. Tolliver quieted her class. "Okay children, what do you want to sing next with Congressman Wiley?"
'Hokey Pokey' someone shouted.
"Okay, everybody get in a circle!"
The dozen or so children assembled in a circle. Wiley looked around and slowly shuffled into place. The singing began again.
"Put your right leg in!"
The students put their legs in. Wiley followed along. Jan watched, astonished.
"Put your right leg out!"
Again, all participate, including the dead man.
Jan walked over to Mrs. Tolliver.
"Then you shake it all around!"
"Can I help you?" asked the teacher.
"Yes, I'm part of the congressman's staff. I'm afraid to say we lost track of him. How long has he been here?"
"About twenty minutes. What a surprise! He just showed up. He stood there staring into the classroom. I recognized him, of course. I invited him in. He was little quiet, so I suggested that we sing some songs with the children."
"Amazing."
"I didn't know he was such a nice man. So warm and loving with the children. I thought he was just another crooked politician. If people knew the real Ben Wiley, they would be surprised."
Jan smiled broadly. "No truer words were ever spoken."
She and Mrs. Tolliver joined the circle.
"Do the hokey pokey and turn yourself around and that's what it's all about!"
Jan smiled as she held Wiley's hand.
She now had a new plan, one that would turn the tables on that witch Mrs. Wiley and Ben's less than loyal chief of staff.
FIVE
They thought it best to bring Wiley back to his home, a place familiar and safe, especially with Mrs. Wiley still enjoying the Hamptons.
Elias, Chi, Jan and Wiley were in the study. Jan was seated as Chi and Elias paced about. Wiley stood against one wall, slowly performing the hokey pokey.
"So, he just walked out?" asked Elias.
"He just walked out," answered Jan for the umpteenth time.
"What were you doing when he walked out?"
"Sleeping."
"You stayed here all night? With him?" asked Chi. He kept his distance from Wiley. He was slowly becoming afraid of the man….the thing. Maybe Brinkman had been here.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Someone has to keep an eye on him."
"That worked out real good. Why don't we just parade him on Channel Two News? All of Harlem saw him get thrown thirty feet by a car," said Elias.
"Break his own leg and then walk away," added Chi.
"So what, they'll still vote for him," replied Jan.
"Meanwhile we find you two at a school dancing. I thought he could barely walk." Chi looked at Elias, then Jan.
"What's next, rollerblading? What the hell is happening here, Jan?" asked Elias.
"He's changing. Ben is becoming more alive than you thought."
The men looked at each other.
"Ben? He's Ben now? A couple days ago he made your skin crawl," said Chi.
"I'm much more comfortable with him now."
"I think 'Ben' needs to be locked up till the election is over. And you need to be locked up permanent," said Elias.
"There's nothing wrong with me."
"There better not be. One week from tonight, I want to be celebrating his victory."
"And you will be," said Jan.
"I better be, and then Ben can take a walk."
"In cement shoes," laughed Chi.
"You can't. He's changing."
"He's dead honey. And in a week, Ben go bye-bye. Are you okay with that, Jan?"
Jan looked over at Wiley, still dancing.
"Yeah."
"Good. Now take the dancing bear upstairs and lock him in his room."
"I'm going to stay with him again."
"I don't care what you do. Just don't let him get away."
Jan rose, grabbed Wiley's arm and led him out of the room.
Once Wiley and the girl were gone, Chi got in his boss' face. "I don't like this, E. This really don't feel right."
"He is different," said Elias.
"Yeah, a lot different. So is she."
"You thinking we got to take care of her when we disappear him?"
"I think we need to walk away, now."
"Don't be weak, Chi. Remember those 110Gs."
"I remember 'em. I just don't know if this is worth it."
"It's worth it, I'm telling you
it's worth all this."
"I hope you're right. What about the World Affairs address tomorrow? You're not going to let him go?"
"Why not, the last time Wiley spoke in public we gained ten points." Elias laughed.
"We're already going to win in a landslide. Why risk it?"
"I don't just want to win, I want a mandate. Plus, we can always say he suffered a drug relapse if he says something wrong."
Elias sat in a small studio in CNN's Manhattan headquarters. A studio tech routed a microphone around his back and attached it to his lapel. The woman handed him an ear bud and Elias gave the woman – a young Hispanic woman with a gentle face, strong booty in tight knit pants and fist sized breasts wrapped in a black bra underneath a skintight sweater – his warmest smile. She smiled back and Elias made a mental note to get her digits before he left the building.
Maybe she'd be willing to do him in a broom closet?
He sure could use the release – Wiley's adventure was all over YouTube and this was his twelfth interview where he attempted to explain away what the human eye could clearly see.
The fine Latina appeared again. "Thirty seconds, Mr. Turnbull," she said. Her voice was husky and it turned Elias on.
Elias nodded and smiled. He heard a voice in his ear bud counting down then he heard the voice of Wolf Blitzer. A monitor underneath the camera that faced him featured Blitzer standing in his "Situation Room".
"Our guest tonight in the Situation Room is Elias Turnbull, chief of staff for Democratic congressman Benjamin Wiley. Congressman Wiley is an Internet sensation this evening following the posting of this video on YouTube." The picture splits in two – Blitzer on one side, the accident video on the other. "As you can see it apparently shows the congressman being hit by a car, then miraculously mending his broken leg and continuing down the street."
"I have to say Wolf, the congressman did not mend his leg. He straightened his leg. He then got up and continued on his walk."
"You're telling me, Mr. Turnbull, that this collision did not break the congressman's leg?"
Elias' monitor showed a recurring loop of the accident, NFL style with super slow motion. Wiley's leg clearly bends at a supernatural angle.
